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Lazarus Radek

"I hate people, but I love gatherings."

0 · 303 views · located in Subject 11

a character in “Subject 11”, as played by Wolkenser

Description

Image

Name: Lazarus Radek

Nickname: None

Age: 43

Gender: Male

Height: 7'9" ft.

Weight: 1,870 lb.


Job: Elite


Skills: He is very skilled in combat, both short-ranged and long-ranged, although short-ranged proves to be more effective in some occasions thanks to the advantages he holds such as the immense power he is able to hit with.


Weakness: Agile and speed-based foes are usually who Lazarus has the most trouble with. Due to his colossal weight and mass, he is quite slow when trying to make quick moves and often prefers to turn and retreat back into long-ranged combat when this happens. Removing his gas-mask also deteriorates his breathing greatly, having it being his auxiliary respiratory system. Without it, all Lazarus can manage is weak, struggling wheezes through his destroyed jaws and modified throat, thus exhausting him fairly quickly and slowing his reactions. But it is highly risky to attempt this since the foe would be within his reach and at great danger.

Personality

Personality: Lazarus is an extremely cold and stoic man... machine. Human-machine. Emotions are something he has lost the grasp of a long time ago. In difference to how most of the security staff seems to act, Lazarus can't be bothered into abusing or being violent with the mutants out of pure spite. He follows the orders he's given without questioning and does nothing else for he knows nothing else. The nature of these orders, however, make him come across as relentless and cruel. If he happens to interact with any of the mutants, his sentences are brief and spoken out as simply a sharp statement, but the cyborg gives no signs of resent, disgust or even mockery towards them.
Sometimes, a flicker of his human shade surfaces in one way or another. But "these moments" are so imperceptible that he mostly justifies them as being part "of the witness's perspective", which isn't too far from the truth.


Fears: Complete disability; having his actual body and system removed or destroyed.

Equipment

Weapons: Lazarus carries a stun-gun with him at all times for small incidents. His right forearm is also modifiable into a very deadly plasma-based gun, however he rarely carries any charges with him, so after the 20th shot it's generally useless.

History

Background story: Lazarus was a normal human once. A simple soldier often in exhausting and torture-like training which left him pained for weeks, a pain which he had no choice but to swallow back before manning up. Ever since he was young he had been destined to be a military, as was family tradition, and covered in sweat and blood he tried his best to be better than the rest of the soldiers and climb through the ranks with unyielding persistence.
That was, until a deadly mistake changed his life and sole existence forever; a foolish, petty, reckless mistake.

He remembers little about the incident, and makes no effort to recover it. He merely recalls a blast of blinding light followed by scorching heat and finally complete numbness overwhelming all of his senses. The rest was pure blackness and agony. Endless, hallucinating agony. Echoes of droning machinery and speech far too quick for him to understand chases Lazarus only in occasional nightmares and flashes.

Now, his life continues as a nearly inhumane being; a cyborg. A machine that carried more wires and systems than he did organs and veins. What was left of Lazarus' spit of a body is heavily protected by a thick and powerful titanium and iron armor and what keeps him alive is the large support system attached to his armor's back and through to his very spine, monitoring the functioning of the organs Lazarus has left and basically keeping him from dying. From the moment he was saved from the grips of death and restored, even if it's a half-life (as some people blatantly put it) he would devote everything he is now to serving and defending the purpose for which he was assigned for to the fullest of his abilities.


Other: Due to his close-to-robotic functioning brain, he provided to have certain immunity to mind-controlling or manipulating abilities from the mutants. A chip implanted onto the limbic region inside of his brain detects an abnormal change on the information and closes upon itself immediately, locking changes out from happening. This also causes Lazarus to forget the events that take place shortly after the "lock down" was triggered, be it a conversation, fight or simple patrol, and until it is removed by either the automatic timer or a maintenance staff member.

So begins...

Lazarus Radek's Story

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It wasn't long after the screechy alarm echoed through the building that a squad of Elites was dispatched and later arrived at the scene. Rebels and mutants had breached MUH's security in a sneeze, and them along with the many other security guards were ready to make them regret their reckless decision.
It was obvious which of the rebels were humans and which weren't, as many times they fell quicker and lighter. Yells and screams of pain or anger managed to echo among the loud rack of the guns and flying bullets, but the opposed organization seemed to be sturdy enough. They had managed to get inside the labs after all, should they not be good fighters, this would be an even easier suicide mission.

Lazarus wasn't at all hard to spot between the fighting groups and heavily armored teams. The enormous cyborg stuck up like a sore thumb due to both his size and form. The thuds of bodies stamping against his thick armor was nothing but a whisper among the gunshots, yet when he rammed or hit with his heavy arms and even spiked iron boots, the cracks or complaints of pain from the renegades were loud enough to be satisfactory.
The man-machine's left hand stabbed and pierced on each of his foe's flesh with his long deadly claw, and if the rebel wasn't killed by his skull-crashing punches, the gushes Lazarus left behind guaranteed they'd die of blood loss or would be eventually be stomped by his large boots like all those who were unfortunate enough to hit the ground in his path. If they weren't healed by their mutant comrades, that is.

Although slow in movement, he was careful enough to go after the rebels who were distracted or just as slow. A hard thing to find among their ranks, since it seemed that most were fully aware of him. But he would not retort into long-ranged combat. Not yet.
There were many shooters already, and the mutants who fought at a short-ranged distance needed to be taken care of as soon as possible to avoid more losses.
But what was this?

For a brief moment, the Elite diverted his eyes towards the crowd and his metallic blue implant locked on a female scientist taking part in the struggle. Not far from her position was another man who did not at all looked like neither a security staff or a scientist. What distracted Lazarus further was the mechanical limb and left eye of the brunette male, and perhaps a tinge of sympathy crossed Lazarus' visible rough features. But the loud bang and clash of a bullet against his armor, missing his lowered face by a hair, snatched his attention back to the battle.
Once again, Lazarus had nearly kissed death. But much to his relief death had ignored him.

But now there was another task eating at his brain, which was to secure the safety of both the thick-bodied brunette and the female scientist. The latter resulting in disaster for the rest of the researchers, surely, should she be hurt or killed during the struggle.

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While apparently everyone was in awe at the small girl in uniform that had just appeared, the large man had just continued trying to bring down as many rebels as possible. He had ignored the bluffing rebel leader, who had just stepped up as if this whole scene was his audience and he was standing on a podium. Of course, he had also been oblivious to Subject 11's arrival and the conversations held between the rebel leader and her.
Admittedly, the silence that slowly fell on the once hellishly noisy battlefield was off-putting, but Lazarus would pay no mind and focus his attention on the rebels; specifically, the mocking human who kept dodging his attacks.
The white-haired cyborg attempted to swing a hit with his right forearm at the man's head, which was easily avoided, and then he tried to slash him with his left hand's iron claws. He didn't quite manage to stab or mortally injure the rebel, but he effectively delivered a deep gash on his shoulder and chest; in return, having a bullet graze right past his right pauldron and splash tiny sparks.
Taking advantage of the pain the man was startled by, Lazarus' enormous mechanical hand clasped his hair and violently forced his forehead to stamp against the sharp spikes from the pauldron, barely piercing his skull -more due to the force applied than the sharpness of the spikes themselves-.

It was then that the arrival of the Anti-Mutation squad members startled him out of combat. He watched as they rushed towards the previously mentioned mutant girl, who then proceeded to murder each of them before they could even do an ounce of damage. This was getting out of control, and so were the mutants; insulting them all as if the staff's lives weren't as valuable as the special mutants because whatever. They were very intelligent, weren't they? Judging their whole race and all of the workers in MUH because they were unfortunate enough to be treated in a way they didn't like. But they were perfectly entitled to maim and gore them? THEY were entitled to take away their lives because they resented every single guard, scientist and human for no reason? The mutants were nobody, just as the rest of them were nobody. Furthermore, the Elite was more than sure that the several violent outrages of each mutant had cost the corporation far more staff lives than the spiteful treatment had cost mutants.

A deep frown wrinkled the man's pale and scarred rough features, and his destroyed lips curled behind the dark colored gas-mask with anger and bitterness. Lazarus' mechanical eye locked and zoom on the insolent girls, his right hand released soft clicks as it clenched into a fist, however before he could raise a finger against either of the youngsters, the sight of a scurrying, plump man stole his attention; one that was heading for the inside of the labs.
The cyborg squinted his eyes, not able to discern the brunette's appearance further than, again, the mechanic limb he had which had distracted him before. The recent events and the amount of unknown people on the building, he could not afford to trust the man because some foolish biased wishful thinking that he was not another of the insurgents.

Although he couldn't quite be discrete or stealthy due to both his size and weight, the crowd seemed distracted enough with the mutant mass murderer girl and the other female scientist, who for some reason was laughing in a rather inappropriate situation. Thus, the man fixed his stare in the direction the other had gone before as he slowly walked between the groups of terrorized-looking guards assembled in the Hall and hurried along only to see the elevator doors shut at the end of the short corridor. A staff member? Taking note of the floor number the elevator directed to, and giving a glance over his shoulder to the crowd, Lazarus scooted in the direction of the emergency stairs; he had never been quite light enough to use the elevators anyway. At least, not since he had been built the mechanical body for.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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Reaching the sixth floor of MUH's building seemed to take a lot longer than he had predicted. Trotting forwards, he could handle. Trotting up the stairs? Not in a thousand years. His boots had stamped against a step and made him nearly trip more than once, and as much as he wanted to get to his destination soon, he wasn't about to go through the humiliation of falling just because he climbing up just a bunch of stairs proved more of a challenge to him than any other daily task.

Thinking about it, why would the man go to the sixth floor in the first place? It made him even more suspicious to be directing straight for the gathering room, where the mutants were. A very detailed explanation was definitely needed, what with the revolt going on downstairs along with a guard genocide, he couldn't afford to trust anyone even remotely foreign-looking. Stealing the ID of a dead guard was more than likely, so his presence in the elevator wasn't all too reassuring.

The yells from the Main Hall still managed to very softly penetrate through the metallic door of the emergency stairs, accompanying his blaring steps' subtle echoes on the wide, white staircase. The cyborg looked over the rails to the levels below, but he merely snorted and continue his path; misting the inside of his gas-mask just lightly.

As he slowly approached the appointed floor, Lazarus reached for his stun gun, which was awkwardly unfitting for his hand's fingers. If all went well, we wouldn't even use it. If not, it'd serve as a throwing object at most; far too heavy to dash after him right away. The sixth floor was probably crawling with other guards anyhow, and they'd possibly shoot him or subdue him faster than he could even attempt to.
Pushing the door open, he kept the gun low as he entered the floor and looked around briefly to look for the scruffy brunette. When he did, however, Lazarus immediately pointed the gun at the man and articulated a loud 'Halt', eyes stayed fixed and unblinking at the short male, pose stern and adamant as he approached with cautiously. He did have a rifle with him after all, and even if his thick armor was hard and sturdy enough to hold some bullets back, he couldn't speak for the exposed cables and circuits.

"Identify yourself." The man-machine's voice sounded definitely artificial, but contrary to most robots or computers, it was not monotonic or sounded like bundles of pre-recorded words that interrupted themselves prematurely. Although natural in terms of modulation, it had been made exaggeratedly low and hoarse, and whenever he spoke there was a soft rasping that accompanied his words. Still, it was understandable and definitely audible, but if the stranger didn't exactly hear, he would be more than glad to repeat himself even louder.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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The little scientist was trembling visibly - he'd had quite a few near brushes with death, but never at the hands of a huge, armed, man-machine. The pistol he routinely carried and his new-found rifle weren't helping any, he realised, and gave a little high-pitched noise. Lack had no need to halt - he'd stopped outside the lift, waiting for the guard to get there rather than making himself more suspicious. He fumbled with the ID card, hoping it wouldn't be assumed he was fiddling with a weapon. His bloodstained knife was strapped to his boot, well out of the way, at least. With a shaky hand, he offered the big man his ID card.

"D-Dr. R. T. Lack. I'm new here. I uh, I uh... I wasn't expecting all that shit to be happening when I came here! I just want to do my job! Please don't kill me, it'd be a, um... a g-great loss to the scientific community as a whole, as I am o-one of the, ah, lead dev... developers of biomechanics. In the world," he said, his fake left eye looking left and right and up and down, nervily summing up the siutation.

He twiddled his thumbs anxiously, looking up at the guard and trying to summon the same awful grin as the one on his ID to prove it was him. He admittedly had to hold back an anxious giggle when he thought, At least he doesn't sound like Microsoft Sam. Another throught crossed his mind after, telling him to shut the hell up.

"Look, I think, uhh... you can find me in the database! I'm one of you guys, I work for MUH! Y-you saw me shoo-shooting all those intruders, right?"

Oh shit oh shit oh shit I'm going to die.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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"Negative." The man replied, metal finger twitching on the gun's trigger.
Slanting his head, Lazarus stretched his left arm to take the ID card from the man as he kept babbling on, keeping the stun gun high as he lowered his eyes to look at it. His right blue colored implant hummed softly while it scanned the card, as his opposite grey eye's sight had been greatly affected since his small explosion incident, despite the surgeries it had gone through.
Yes, the ID belonged to 'Dr. R. T. Lack', but Lazarus had been taught to be highly distrustful and it was obvious that the man could be just holding up an act. Although it wasn't unheard of that new arrivals didn't receive any security clearance to few areas such as the gather place until days later; one of the many 'security measures' which just several minutes ago had been deemed useless by a bunch of rogues.

The cyborg flipped the card over a few times, eying the dark-haired man every now and then warily, arching an eyebrow at the awkward grin the brunette was giving him. He definitely was an odd man, but Lazarus could afford to play along and observe this 'Dr. Lack' from a close range to ease that slight paranoia he had grown to have in regard of the new staff members and mutants.
Lazarus gave an inaudible sigh, unnoticeable shouldn't it be for occasional blurring of the aqua polycarbonate plastic on the mask. Then, the Elite sharply handed the ID back and lowered the gun, yet his expression remained serious. But that was probably just his face.

"Very well, Dr. Lack," He huffed, putting the feeble weapon away. "If it could be possible to check the database at the moment, I would. But as you very well saw, the staff is occupied dealing with the rebels... and other nuisances." The last, Lazarus nearly spat out, furrowing the bridge of his hunched nose. The large man straightened himself, staring at the scientist in silence for a just a few seconds before speaking up again. "You shouldn't be wondering around unguarded, doctor, if you would be such a great loss to this scientific community of yours. Security is failing all over this place, and mutants wouldn't hesitate in terminating you should they get the chance."

His gaze looked over Lack, towards the doors leading to the scanners and to the mutant gathering place. It wasn't bitterness or resent what dominated Lazarus' features. It was simply caution. He didn't trust the mutants; he had no reason to. They killed his comrades, and most of them usually continued to threaten the guards whenever they got the chance to. He, of course, was no exception to this. But it didn't irk him as much as it used to. He had grown used to their spite and unreasonableness, but this person? Who knows how susceptible he'd be to believe their threats, although surely he'd been warned before? It was a constant issue in this place for all the staff that directly treated with them.

"I could render you assistance, if you wish. It is after all, part of my duties."

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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Warily, Lack took the card back like it'd explode. Oh great, now he was mentally 'translating' everything the guard said into Microsoft Sam-ese and a nervous laugh escaped his lips. Traitors, can't you stay shut for once? He flinched and watched him, expecting to be zapped any second. But then he put the stun gun away, and that gave Lack a little bit of peace, but those claws looked awfully sharp...

"W-well, I wasn't exactly expecting crazed gunmen and all that to go charging their way into the building. Uh. I was waiting to meet a fellow member of staff, not buckshot to my, um, ear. And, y-you know, in those kind of situations where two overpowered little girls start going, uh, apeshit, it's probably b-best to leave. Which is why I'm here. Do you know where I could meet another, uh, scientist?"

He paused, thinking a little.

"Although my ear was already kind of bad, so maybe this is a good thing. Th-then again, who wants to bet I'll be the one who has to, um, fit the new one all wonky in the bathroom mirror?"

The joke fell flat even for a Lack-standard joke. He stood in awkward silence, ducking his head down into his coat collar in a feeble attempt to escape all these going on around him. The guard scared him shitless, and besides, he wasn't sure how to deal with a man like that. At best, Lack was nervous around new people anyway, but this guy terrified him. He was so tall, for one. Lack cursed his curse of being a shortarse and considered the situation downstairs.

"You guys have snipers in hidden places down there? 'Cause those little girls are sure wreaking havoc. And letting slip the dogs of war. Well, actually, that's cry havoc, but it wouldn't make sense if I had said that and I'll shut up now," he mumbled.

The scientist looked very sheepish and somewhat earnest, wringing his wrists and looking up at Lazarus. He glanced over to the gathering area, vaguely remembering it from when he had his interview a few months back. Great, more places where he could be possibly used as a mutant's chew toy. He wondered if the guard would object to him writing a strongly worded letter right there. Understandably, poor Lack didn't feel his best at all, anxiety churning his stomach and feeling incredibly unsure of all this funny business going on downstairs. And now up here. He looked the place over, and saw an older girl hugging a younger one. Although he didn't know, they were Subjects 89 and 84. He offered a little wave and smile. He was a generally nice man, and didn't want the people he was working with to see him as a monster.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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A frown crossed the large man's features at the scientist's small nervous laugh, struggling to find anything even remotely funny in the corporation's current situation, or in what he had just said.
Effectively, Lazarus did but stare at him. Dr. Lack seemed - twitchy, talkative. And with a remarkably more florid language than the rest of the scientists used, but he made no comment on the matter as he didn't precisely mind it. With his current appearance and clothes, it was a wonder neither of the other guards had tried to shoot him back on the Main Halls. He didn't exactly look like one of MUH's scientists at first glance, nor a second or third. Changing his clothes was probably advisable, but it was none of his business. Let the man dress however he likes while he can; his superiors would be the ones to have the final word at any rate. He had to agree with some of the things the man mumbled, however. He'd doubt that anyone would expect insane gunmen to burst inside a supposed high-security building, though, but he couldn't express how much he concurred with his point about the girl mutants.
Scientists had been naive enough to overpower them without actually implementing any obedience chips or basically making them mindless. Sounded like a flawless plan.

"I doubt they'll attempt to dispatch any snipers, doctor. As to why, I cannot say. But I suspect a lack of preparation." He said flatly, arms lifting to merely rest one on top of the other, as crossing them was quite uncomfortable with that claw of his, bloodied from the battles earlier. It could be highly inconvenient sometimes, and he oftenly found himself wishing they could be somehow retractable.
"As to finding another scientist, they often mingle in the labs on the second floor and sometimes come to the gather room. But I wouldn't be surprised if they holed themselves up until this mess is over and done for, and I doubt that will be any time soon."

Lazarus's eyebrows lifted at the man's friendly wave towards the subjects, finding it a very rare sort of behavior in the scientific teams he had once or twice escorted inside. It kicked his brain back into remembering that Lack wasn't precisely on his trusting side as of yet, but the way the doctor spoke and acted was genuinely distracting. It was hard to focus on how he absolutely needed to be paranoid about every word, gesture and action Lack did when he was too preoccupied comparing him to the rest of the scientists in a non-critical way.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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The staring made Lack feel even more awkward. Fiddling with his fingers, he ducked his head and stared at his heavy boots. He'd always dressed that way. Well, apart from when he first started being a scientist and kept getting oil all over his nice clean shirts. Maybe he'd try to change the combats to something less hostile... jeans always worked. His beloved boots, however, would stay no matter what. The toes had steel caps. Good if he dropped something on his foot or really wanted to kick someone hard. Whilst part of his mind was being lax and thinking over the various things that had got him into the rather scary situation with the guard, another part was thinking over how he'd make his new ear, and more importantly, who'd be the one to fit it. The bathroom mirror thing was a joke, of course - the operation was not something he could be conscious for.

"Say, how old are those two mutants? The girls? No wonder they are off the rails if they're so young. The mind of a child going through puberty is effectively 'pruned' until they reach their late teens. Messing around with the heads of teenagers - all ethical arguments aside - is likely a bad idea, because of the process their brains go through during that time. And those brains belonging to, uh, mutants makes the situation fucked up beyond all recognition. Yeah, imagine, 'I hate you, mom, I wish you'd all just die!' from the mouth of a regular kid. Funny. From the mouth of one who can eviscerate you? Slightly less so."

He seemed a little calmer now when he was talking science rather than explaining why he should live. Funny, that. He shook his head, now making a list of what he could put in his letter to the head of this operation. Sheer incompetance seemed to be the dish of the day, and Lack wasn't happy. He was also pretty sure the guard was still suspicious about him. Hell, he would be suspicious of himself! He thought he'd better explain his clothes and pistol.

"You know, I'm a bit eccentric. They give you lessons on being an eccentric at university now, as soon as you go to study any discipline of science. You have to learn to cackle maniacally and yell, 'It lives! IT LIVES!' before they let you anywhere near test tubes and all that," he said, pokerfaced. Then, realising his little joke could get him even deeper, he cringed. "I joke. You're probably wondering why I'm dressed like I came off the street, right? You try getting oil stains out of nice white shirts. And blood. It's much cheaper just to wear more relaxed clothes. Also, when I was younger, a mutant broke into the labs I was working in, and there weren't many guards there. Being a fairly decent gunman, I snatched up the pistol of a fallen guard, but ended up used as the thing's personal chewtoy. After that, you tend to want to dress in sensible clothes and carry weapons. It's also why I'm... ahhh... on edge about a sudden fucking break in on the first day of my new job. Do they happen often?"

The explanation was all true, and he hoped that the guard believed him. He didn't seem so happy about the situation either, and that comforted the scientist. Evidently he didn't need to be listed in a strongly worded letter to the boss.

"So, what's your name? My 'R' stands for Rainer, but it's a stupid name. I've got a kid brother and sister, adopted. They call me Rainy because I always look grouchy, apparently. And ask me if I've done operations on the weather, and it's stupid and annoying and everyone picked on me because of it when I was a wee little thing. I generally go by Lack."

He was definitely more at ease now the gun was away and that the huge man had called him 'doctor' and answered his question without any discernible note of hostility. Still, Lack never seemed to shut up. Maybe he was just nervous underneath his somewhat collected, jokey demeanour. He wondered if he should start writing his letter down now, or maybe he could find another scientist as a witness to this inadequate protection of the place. He doubted it was the fault of the guards. There was, after all, a mutant gathering area, which smelt of danger to come. He really needed to get his hands on one of those anti-mutation guns. His mind suddenly sprang back to remember the angry young female doctor in the fight. He sincerely hoped she was okay. She didn't exactly look like she had much combat experience, and was right in the middle if the action rather than in a defensive position.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek
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"According to the records, subject 84 would be eighteen, and 89 twelve. Most, if not all of the mutants in this facility are adolescents or prepubescent children. I have yet to meet a mature subject."
Lazarus' locked his eye on the girls inside the gather room as he spoke, later looking at each of the young mutants while he listened to Lack talk.
His logic on teenage mutants was admittedly funny, but instead of laughing Lazarus issued a noise that sounded like a brief cough or choke.
He turned to look at the scientist when he began explaining his outfit and the reason for the biomechanic arm and eye he had; nothing less than an accident with a mutant. In a regular conversation, perhaps he would've made a cheap, lame comment like 'How unfortunate' or something spilling fake sympathy. But he said nothing. As a matter of fact, the sympathy was true and authenticate. He hadn't been mauled by a mutant, but he had been mauled by an explosive, and quite severely. For a fraction of a second, Lazarus could've sworn to suddenly feel every cable, circuit and titanium plate covering his incomplete body, but with a shake of his head and a small frown, he pushed it aside feeling weak and pathetic.

The abrupt movements of the several guards ahead startled him, and the cyborg watched as they subdued the previously mentioned female subject for what apparently had been a fight with another boy. He had been deaf to the girl's demands for information and would've been frankly surprised should the fights weren't basically daily.
The Elite slanted his head in the doctor's direction, still keeping his eyes on the mutant the other security members were dragging away.
"Lazarus. A pleasure, doctor Lack." He replied, looking briefly at Lack before returning his attention to the guards, already leaving through the elevator.

He couldn't help but give a low snort at the hostile behavior that generally flooded the labs at this point. He was also pretty sure to have heard gunshots, but he swept away the thought with the conclusion that it probably came from the many struggles at the entrance. He did want to help, and he had to some point. Combat was something he longed for, usually. But Lazarus felt uncertain about rushing back to the struggle. Not while the doctor still lingered about and nearly all of the security staff was already downstairs, fighting or dead. Luckily, he was prepared for whatever was to come thanks to the alarm. Should there be an emergency, he had replaced his plasma-based charges with Anti-Mutation ones, and he had yet to use any. It was evident by his blood stained appearance that his attacks had been physical. But he'd rushed against the human foes, and this floor was filled with hostile mutants. He was thankful that he hadn't used any of the charges as of yet, and sincerely hoped he wouldn't have any need for them that day.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89
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"All kids, huh? You don't get good readings from one age range alone," he grumbled.

He wasn't too fond of hurting people, but wasn't exactly against it where the pursuits of science were concerned. Hypocritical, maybe, but one couldn't hold interests in human and mutant rights as well as being in a job which naturally included experimentation on people at the same time very easily. And so Lack had to juggle his priorities around wonkily, donating to charity but carrying on with his work which often injured or killed people. It didn't make him feel very good, and when he'd started experimenting on people, he couldn't stand himself. Every night after work he'd felt sick he could do that to people, and used to drink himself to oblivion, until he'd found a doctor to help him with the brief episode of depression. And so he'd done the obvious when he began to recover; strived to improve conditions for the test subjects. It wasn't the same as freedom, but as head researcher in the last place, he'd put in place a series of rules for the other scientists to follow and made sure to communicate with the subjects above all else.

"Nice to meet you, Lazarus," he said with a grin.

The man's grin was awful. It was perpetually awkward and somehow salacious at the same time, even with no intent at all to look lustful. It was the type that got him odd looks from everyone, and the occasional slap. It might have been something to do with the way the scarred left cheek tugged at his mouth. However, it was certain that it was dreadful. He'd really be better off with a little smile.

"You know, if you ever want anything fixed up, changed or added in regards to your mechanics, I'm your man."

He seemed pretty proud about that. And he was! Lack had worked hard for years and years to be so good at his job, and he loved to practise and help and develop ideas. He didn't feel so terrified of this guard any more; it was nice to get to meet the staff he'd be with for (presumably) years to come. At least he wasn't yammering on about nothing now.

Loud noises, gunfire and shouting in some odd tongue caught Lack's attention. Guards were being massacred again, but much closer to him this time, and by the girl he'd waved to. He grabbed his assault rifle and staggered back a little, tense. Lack liked language. He wasn't fluent in anything, but knew bits and bobs of different things. Nothing like whatever the girl was yelling in, however. The tone was demanding, obviously, and before shooting or running off, he decided the best plan would be to calm her down, if indeed he could. After all, he wasn't dead yet.

"He-hey, honey, you want s-something?" he stammered, keeping his voice gentle.

He cursed himself for ignoring the situation. If he'd been watching, he might have known what set her off. He was all ready to try and pump her body full of lead, though, even though his bullets were the regular, human type and wouldn't hurt anyone. He glanced up at Lazarus, wandering what he'd do.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89
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The tall guard gave the scientist a very small smile. Not that he could see it with that respirator on his face, but the intention was there. He would've perhaps attempted a 'joke' of his own, but the new disturbances made him jerk his head around merely to see the OTHER girl in question attack the other guards.
With slow movements, the cyborg's left forearm's plates began to shift and turn with quiet whirrs and drones. The fingers and hands seemed to be retracting inside the mechanics, and it gave way to a medium-sized opening that gave a faint pale blue glow.

When the young mutant aggressive and crazed-looking jumped towards them, Lazarus' opposite arm pushed the brunnette doctor back, and his other arm lifted to aim straight at the girl's head, a deep scowl burrying itself between the man's eyebrows.
He did not fire, however, and even snarled at the other guards to stop in their tracks.
Whoever taught them that overwhelming a mutant was smart needed to be severely punched in the face. So many lives could be spared if they only reasoned before they attacked, and as long as he was present, they would do no such thing. There was a scientist's life at stake as well, and one who didn't know what the risks were and had no fault that those idiots believed they could just subdue anyone by rushing towards them.

Lazarus stayed quiet and completely immobile, arm still stretched infront of the scientist and squinted eyes unblinking. The only sound came from his large earpiece, which only hummed almost inaudibly in the silence of the tense enviornment.
More than stun guns, the guards needed horse tranquilizers. Outbursts like these never did have a good ending, and when you have a mutant speaking some satanic-sounding bullshit infront of you and you have no option but to fight or kill, you realize that the corproration needs a serious rearranging of their methods.

Doctor Lack better be good at communicating with hellspitting children, or they'd all be neck-deep in very serious problems.
He exchanged a stressed look with the short man, flared his nostrils and stared at the girl again, stoic and unflinching.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89
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Lack staggered back when he was pushed behind Lazarus, and watched his arm transform. He was curious, and almost forgot he was in a life-threatening situation as he wondered who designed it, as it certainly wasn't him. The whole armour was very un-Lack like, although he'd be very willing to fix it and make changes. It'd be different to do things other than make replacement arms and jaws and stomachs for once and maybe it'd help the guard as well! He peered from around Lazarus at the angry girl, trying to figure what she was yelling. Realising he might be frightening her with his rifle, he lowered it.

"I d-don't understand. You're talking f-funny, like..." here he tried to do an impression, "like that, and I don't understand. I can't help you, uhh, if I don't know what you're say-saying, hon."

He swallowed, still watching her, and wondered what the hell he could even do. He tried to think of his adopted sister Miranda, who was eleven, and what he did when she was acting up. Truthfully, there was no way Miranda could kill him, but maybe the theory was similar. Well, maybe it wasn't a good idea. When his siblings were staying around at his place and being pests, he threatened to cut their eyes out and do tests on them. If he didn't trust them in a room he had to leave, he'd remove his eye - suffering half blindness as a result - and tell them they were being watched by it. Obviously, that wouldn't work with her, and the only option he could think of would be to try to sweet talk her around and calm her down.

"Here. Do you w-want to, um, come with me for, ah, a cup of tea? Have a c-cal... calm down."

He kept his voice gentle and sincere, but still kept behind Lazarus. He'd just try and figure out what she wanted. In English, not Ominious Chanting. His stomach was in knots. His first day, no less... typical.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89 Character Portrait: Subject 84 Character Portrait: Mitchell "Mitch" Walker
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Apparently, Lack's attempts at communication had little to no effect on the female, who just continued with her string of gibberish in an apparently faster pace. Lazarus was tense, and presumably the rest of the guards were so, but if they dared move an inch, the cyborg's right fake eye would nearly glare holes on their heads. Truthfully, his stress was because of them, and not quite because of the mutant girl talking nonsense.

Not far from behind him came a cracking sound of a radio belonging to one of the guards. Lazarus looked at the man from the corner of his eye, clenching his jaw to avoid barking at him to turn that cursed thing off. The request that he made out of the radio's hiss was curious, though. A senior guard? The hell for?
Chaos was just stalking everyone in every corner, but Lazarus stayed put. Surely a security officer would've caught that, wouldn't they? He himself didn't carry a radio with him, and he had no idea if any of the others would be paying enough attention to the eventual transmissions as to attend them, but as he took in a sharp intake of breath to send one of the basics to the second floor, the elevator's doors opened to reveal that Subject 84 was inside. And the other guards? Probably dead.

He followed the mutant with his eyes as she climbed through the ceilings and dropped right in front of his arm. Ah, geez, how spectacular.
Without taking his gaze off of the girl, he lightly turned his head towards the officer behind him.
"Go to the second floor," The Elite hissed through gritted teeth, lowering his arm and, therefore, the now gun-shaped forearm that now acted as his weapon. He scanned the rest of the guards, nervous and impatient to do something about the two mutant girls ahead of Lack and himself. With a growl-like exhale, he gestured towards them. "And take those goons with you. Our rookie may need them more than I do."

Of course, the officer seemed dumbfounded by the request, and right at the bridge of protesting against Lazarus' order, but it was hard to go directly against the command of a superior they were trained to follow, and one as imposing and hard-headed as Lazarus wouldn't even listen to what they had to say.
The officer made a mute gesture at the men, and one by one they very cautiously retreated to the elevator, staying as far from both of the mutants as possible, murmuring quietly between themselves until the metallic door closed.

He turned back to the females in silence and scrutinized them closely. Yes, he had lowered his weapon, and so had the doctor, but he would not shift his mechanical limb back until he considered necessary to show a -not friendly- but at least a much less defensive position against them.
Lazarus' left arm, which had still remained in front of the scientist, fell only slightly. He felt much less upset now that the other officers were out of the way, but that did not mean that he'd stopped being wary of both of the mutants. But it was logical. The lack of hostility reflected towards them should calm them down to some extent. The least he wanted for now was an unnecessary confrontation, even though he'd possibly get in trouble for this.
Not that he cared much. MUH had lost so many soldiers that they couldn't afford to fire one of the well-trained staff, it wouldn't be sensical.

And Doctor Lack? The man had so far spilled everything BUT hostility. The cyborg merely pulled his weapon behind his back and held it with his other hand, perking himself just like the soldier he was and standing still like a statue but never letting down his guard. After all, he still didn't know the mutants well enough to predict their reactions.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89 Character Portrait: Subject 84
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All this activity was really putting Lack on edge. Now this girl was yelling at them, and she seemed like some demonic creature. He shuddered, hoping she couldn't get big enough to rip him to shreds. He'd likely have a nervous breakdown by the end of the month if he kept getting near attacked. Either that, or shoot someone in the head. He glanced down to his gun - the safety was off and it was loaded, good. Taking a steady breath, he tried to calm himself down so he wouldn't stammer as much. He was still close to Lazarus and really wished he had a proper gun for fighting these guys if it got that far, and it looked like it would. The way Lazarus sent away the other guards didn't exactly reassure him, either.

"H-hello. We were trying to, um... f-f-figure what was up wi-with Subject 89. Bef-fore she, you know, fuckin' k-killed one of us, ahahaha."

The laughter was certainly nervous, and the swearing didn't come over as hostile, more as desperate. The damn letter would be an arm long. If he got out alive. He wanted out right now. He was sick of seeing people dying because all these teenagers decided to have a simoultaneous shitfit. He stared at this new girl with his regular and mechanical eyes. Lack had smiled and waved to her earlier. He'd tried to help the younger girl (admittedly to save his own skin, but the thought still counted, right?). Damned if Dr. Rainer T. Lack going to let himself die because some kid didn't seem to get ambiguous or neutral positions in fights, or because this new company he worked for didn't get how to secure the building properly. That, at least, made him feel a bit more confident. His shaky stare turned into its more usual solid glower and he squared his jaw.

"And I-I'd be pleased if you didn't yell at us."

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89 Character Portrait: Subject 84
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It was evident from the Elite's visible features that the mutant was increasingly upsetting him, and Lack's nervousness, ineffective as it was, only contributed to the large man's anxiousness. His cold, metallic fingers tapped upon his forearm's plates in a weak attempt to occupy himself away from snapping at the teenager and presumably make the situation worse than it was.
He sure hoped the doctor was enjoying his first taste of their irritably proud and condescending attitude. Moreover, the transformation from the youngest girl irked him further, as it just underlined the already discriminative behavior so present in them.

With each word, though, Lazarus found it harder to restrain his tongue. His piercing eyes glowered solely at the oldest of the two and his hand balled into a fist behind his back as the wrinkles between his brows accentuated.

Subject 84 had been so far sheltered under the kind roof of his patience, but the soldier did not tolerate disrespect, yelling and shouting. And thus that roof was slowly beginning to crumble on top of her. Although he wouldn't physically assault her, he'd most certainly snap at her, and the grave thundering voice the simulator on his throat gave him startled people who didn't hang around and talked to the man very often, which would be satisfying enough.

Even so, when the girl calmed her tone, it didn't quite help her situation. She still seemed to be demanding, and to her first notion, Lazarus couldn't help himself any longer.
"If your yelling is the equivalent of murdering," interrupted the guard, harshly. "I'm unsure as to what answers you expect from a carcass. Usually, politeness seems to work better. A language foreign to you, evidently."

His retort was crude and spoken sharply, without wincing or recoiling. He was annoyed, and he didn't need or found any reason in hiding it. The recklessness from the subject was far beyond what he was willing to put up with, but if his position wasn't expressive enough of her failure at intimidating him, he wouldn't mind confirming it again; just for good measure.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 89 Character Portrait: Subject 84 Character Portrait: Mitchell "Mitch" Walker Character Portrait: Subject 22 Character Portrait: Subject 51
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-Lack-

Lack's clammy skin and flesh fingers clasped his new found gun, the mechanics in his left arm staying tense and ready to aim and fire. Despite how the girl had calmed down, both of them, he was still wary and could tell he'd still have trouble with his stutter if he tried to carry on talking with them. The way 84 'apologised' and spoke to him annoyed him more than anything - he was new, how was he meant to know anything about this? More than that, he'd be willing to listen and try and sort things out for these mutants! For a second, he decided maybe to step into the role of the angry monster scientist if everyone was so ready to believe that, but with his nobler reason, he deemed it childish.

"H-ho-how am I meant to know that? I'm new here! W-was I yelling? No. You're being a uh, a uh, a brat," he stammered. "Y-you know, I got chew... chewed up by someone like you, bu-but I don't yell and kill and m-maim everyone!"

He didn't raise his voice very much, and seemed more upset than angry. He was irate, yes, but more offended. Guilt about his job was swimming in his head as it used to when he was younger and first started. 'This job'll be great for you,' they said. 'Plenty of opportunity, great workmates, compliant subjects,' they said. Well isn't that a great big pile of bullshit if I ever heard one he thought bitterly, still glaring away. Of course, he could only glare with one eye and so it came out wonky and slightly comical.

"Ch-chaos? Chaos? P-p-people are dying! I-its a b-bit more than just cha-chaos! And I d-d-don't damn kn-know, I'm a fucking newbie here!"

-51-

There was a terrible wail and sob from down the hall where Mitch currently was. Two guards were dragging a skinny middle-aged man who was curling up on himself and flailing weakly down a hall. Seemed like 51 had gotten out and gone for a wander in the hectic struggle. Poor 51 wasn't all that dangerous, and spent most of his time screaming at other people about how they'd end in hell. The man cried out and screamed something uncomprehensible, completely going limp rather than struggling. He curled in a ball and covered his head, whimpering pathetically.

"Don't touch me!" he screeched when the guards went to grab him again.

Before they could take his arms by force and drag him along, he wriggled into a corner and cried hopelessly, shaking his head over and over.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 84
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"Normally, a shout and a yell are the exact same thing excepting the wording, commonly called a synonym," snorted the cyborg with a heavily sardonic smirk as his tongue rolled over his teeth behind the gas mask. "But I'm glad you're an expert in avoiding the point in my query. Conversation! Don't make me laugh."

Of course, Lazarus' remarks couldn't get any more sarcastic and bitter. He snickered, rather than mocked, and tried to maintain his lips in a straight serious line without much success. He was aggravated, and with nothing to punch but an internal, imaginary manikin, his rage was beginning to make a knot in his damaged gut, and the guard was more than sure that he'd start spitting bile any time soon.

Lack's presence was really the only thing keeping him in line at the moment, and the doctor seemed to be just as irritated as he. And with good reason! He had tried to show a friendly intent earlier, and the mongrel's attitude here was like spitting directly on a helper's hand. And they wondered why they were treated the way they did! They cried for injustice, the hypocrites! Did they not look at themselves on the mirror?
Of course not. In their mind, everybody was at fault for their own wrongdoings.

Lazarus couldn't have been more grateful that his treatment with these sorts of people was minimum. He preferred his gloating co-workers, boasting about how good their aim was, than the level of absolute degradation he received from mere adolescents; children who didn't know anything better in life than to try and constantly challenge the authority. Add mutations to that and the outcome was next to catastrophic; children who think themselves to be indestructible and holy and mighty only due to some crappy radioactive modification, and believed themselves to be over everyone.

He had never considered being thankful for his lack of a lower body; right now, however, he found himself constantly doing this. He only wished that all of the scientists would've experienced the 'magic' and 'beauty' of having a hormonally-unstable teenage son or daughter before using them for their idiotic overpowering experiments. Maybe then the constant killings would've been avoided by a good ninety percent.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 84 Character Portrait: Mitchell "Mitch" Walker Character Portrait: Subject 99 Character Portrait: Subject 51
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Confused and anxious, Lack watched the girl seem to argue with herself after Lazarus snapped at her. He liked the tall man - he seemed to be the only other person concerned about the levels of security and the attitudes of the mutants here at MUH. They both seemed to be irritable about the mutants killing everyone as well, which was always good. Best to be annoyed when your co-workers start falling. He still stayed kind of behind the man, wary of the two female mutants, moreso the younger one. At least he could communicate with the young woman whereas the girl had been speaking gobbeldygook and getting angry with him when he just tried to help her. When the older girl - Ria - seemed to turn normal and introduce herself, he relaxed a little.

"N-nice to meet you, Ria. I'm D-Dr. L-Lack."

Just as he was introducing himself to the girl, he noticed a beat up looking little boy and guard come out from an elevator. First his face filled with concern for the child, and then his bristled, angry that the guards were allowed to hit such young children. However, his sympathy drained away a little when he saw the guard fall to the ground and gasp for air after the boy seemed to mutter a word. Seeing the guard was conscious, he quickly made the short jog over and checked on him, his airway and heartbeat.

"Are you okay? What the hell was that about?" he asked, glancing back over to the now normal-looking girl and Lazarus with a questioning expression.

Maybe they could offer an answer. Did Ria know the boy? Had the kid even been beaten by the guard; was that just from an accident? Had the guard simply been defending himself? Or was that guard just an asshole who enjoyed kicking the shit out of children? He helped the man to sit up and glowered at the back of the little boy, no matter how young he was. His head was starting to ache from the pain of his now-quarter ear, but he ignored it as best he could for now. There were more pressing issues.

-Mephistopheles/51-

The hyena-skulled demon watched as the gun was pointed at its 'head' and sighed a little, shaking his head.

"I was being perfectly courteous, and you had to bring weaponry into the matter, hm? Why don't you put that down, and we can have a talk. Does my form displease you? I can look like many things which you may be more used to."

However, the creature stood. It was taller than 51, who was around 5'10. The demon stood around a foot taller, but somehow looked willowier rather than all skin and bones. He steadily watched the young guard.

"Lower the gun and I'll respect your wish. Call it a sign of good will. And I won't come within touching distance, although it's my claws that should worry you."

Once more, the skull snapped shut. The monster wasn't wearing the clothes 51 had been - rather it wore what looked like a lightweight leather armour decorated with small trinkets such as teeth and little gemstones. It stretched and appeared to yawn, then grumbled something to itself, cooing softly.

"You're frightening poor Hieronymus," he said.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 84
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The sudden temper outburst from the subject did but alter the Elite further, and with quiet and secretive movements, he pulled his gun from behind his back and held it low but at the ready, suspicious of the seemingly delirious female. The soldier didn't permit himself to act upon impulse, though, so Lazarus listened to her monologue and stuck his gaze on her until the abnormal features on her body began to fade away.

Even with the girl's new, much friendlier greeting, the guard remained doubtful and incredibly quizzical towards it.
He did not introduce himself, but merely moved back into his previous little tin soldier stance in front of the scientist, who he gave a brief look when he introduced himself in return. Then, the elevator doors resounded again in the hall; it was awfully active in spite of the firefight that was still going on a few minutes ago. Was it over?, the cyborg wondered. The question would remain unanswered until these mutants were back in either the gather room or in their cells.

His eyes followed the newcomers, both the guard and the kid until they were gone, instantly turning back towards the subjects in front of him. His frown had reduced in depth somewhat, and his features regained that previous coldness they had before his temper had been tried by 84's petty demon counterpart, returning that machine-like air he carried about himself.
It wasn't until Lack had trotted away from him that he diverted his gaze again, slightly unwillingly, to find yet another guard down.
MUH would need to do some serious recruiting the following week, unless they rather running out of staff.

At the doctor's question, the cyborg couldn't help but shake his head and slant it to the side as his implant zoomed on the unconscious guard's face, causing his expression to twist with confusion. It wasn't until that moment that his gun's mechanisms altered and converted back into his normal hand and forearm; even with the presence of the younger mutant girls that he constantly watched over. Surely if they tried something, he would have enough time to change it back, but by the body-language of the youngest, he wasn't so sure the other teenager would assault any of them and put her in risk.
At least, he wished that was her trail of thought.

As to the fallen guard and the youngster; he would've perhaps pondered or made up several conclusions, but that wasn't even necessary.
The doctor needn't but ask the boy what happened, or ask the guard when he comes along, whichever. At least this one had a chance to be taken to the infirmary; whereas the others needed to be taken to a morgue. A very, very large morgue.

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Character Portrait: Dr. Rainer Thorin Lack Character Portrait: Subject 124 Character Portrait: Lazarus Radek Character Portrait: Subject 99
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Carefully, Lack put him in the recovery position, crouching down beside him and waiting until he regained consciousness. He had been out for a while... the scientist gently checked his head for injuries, and then rummaged in his bag for a powerful little maglite. He carefully pulled back the man's eyelid and shone the light into his eye and watched the pupil dilate as it should. So it wasn't concussion, even though he must have hit his head on the floor. He clicked the light off and put it back into his bag, giving the situation a think. Checking the man's pulse, he decided to just wait with him and wondered what the hell the boy had done. He looked over at him in the room and frowned. He was only small, maybe he didn't know he could easily hurt or kill someone with his powers.

He sighed. It seemed like the onus was on him to sort everything out here. It was harder when you weren't the slightly grouchy, caustic boss with a foul mouth everyone knew, but he'd try his best. The organisation of the place really was a shambles, and it made him uncomfortable that he'd already shown his nervous side a fair few times today. He shouldn't have had to. He had just wanted to arrive, get shown around, and get on with his job. He figured he'd better go and ask the little boy, but didn't exactly want to leave the guard alone. Then again, he could just dart off and bring the kid over. He looked up at Lazarus.

"I'm just going to fetch the kid," he said, then headed into the gathering area to find the little boy.

He felt a little vulnerable surrounded by mutants, but realised that they probably didn't know his gun was loaded with regular ammunition. A rather... expressive girl was currently tending to the child, and Lack headed over. He decided it wasn't a good idea to offer his smile, creepy as it looked, and so just looked earnest instead.

"Hey, can we have a word? Over by the guy you knocked out? It's okay, I won't hurt you, I'm just concerned," he said, keeping his voice gentle rather than its usual unintentionally snappy tone.

Reminding himself this was a child, Lack offered him his flesh and blood hand. The mechanical one might have scared the child, who knew?

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