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"On this day, I go to Soverngarde."
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Jan 22, 2018 7:10:38 GMT -10
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Marquis (Marquise)
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Post by LycanHeart on Feb 24, 2013 13:40:48 GMT -10
As Trish followed the crowd back to the Sanctuary, Jay had asked her where she had come from. "Prison. I just escaped," she replied, as if it was something she did everyday. "I had tried to bust everyone out, but a certain traitor had messed with my plans. I had to leave first," she added as her hands balled into fists. "That traitor....if I ever see her again, I swear to whatever Gods she pray to, I'll gut her alive," she cursed as she recalled the demented traitorous girl.
"Be careful, or you'll end up like Margaret," Kyosuke replied as he walked ahead, the torso of Yenta swaying slightly as he navigated the tunnels. Trish looked at him with astonished eyes. "You....you remember mom?" she gasped, hurrying over to Kyosuke and tugging at his jacket, like a little girl seeking approval of sorts.
Kyosuke halted almost immediately. How /did/ he know Margaret? "Margaret's your mom?" Kyosuke asked, confused. Then again, how did I know her? "Trish, was it?" Kyosuke asked without looking back as he continued walking, the weight of the torso becoming slightly ominous. Perhaps it was from the fight earlier, when Yenta tossed him into that dream world. Perhaps it was from the rain. Or the cold. In any case, Kyosuke felt his strength waning. "Tell me everything you know about me. Please," he murmured the last part, as if it was something embarrassing.
"You....you've also forgotten about your dad, Mr. Shinobi?" Trish muttered, tears forming in her eyes, sorrow and sadness welling up in her. "I can't believe you've forgotten about me, Assassin. And I thought I was someone special to you," she ran her palm across her eyes, wiping away the tears. Sniffing in snot, she replied, "if I'm in the mood then."
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"Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!"
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Dec 5, 2020 9:20:08 GMT -10
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Marquis (Marquise)
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Post by smartblondie on Feb 24, 2013 13:42:23 GMT -10
Sydney chuckled at Luke's entertaining Cam's speculating, imagining it. Sounded like an interesting gal. Probably pretty energetic, if she shrieked at her brother's broken arm. Well, Sydney respected that, she supposed. Before any conversation could continue, however, the guards returned, making her blood run cold before they just dismissed them. Phew. No hiccups. She beamed at Cam, impressed, and stood, tossing her tray in the trash and brushing her hands off. She looked to Luke when he spoke again, and nodded, somewhat pleased about making a new..friend? Acquaintance? Ally? Well, whatever he was, it was nice to talk to someone who was her age, or roughly around there. Not that the older kids were antisocial, but they were much more withdrawn, less needy than the little kids who depended on her. "Sure, see you later." she agree, walking with them to the doors. A slight smile, content, maybe, was still decorating her face when the three reached the doors, where several guards waited. Probably just to escort she and the other dangerous kids to their cells, she told herself, knowing she was likely wrong.
"You three are wanted in the detaining rooms for questioning. Come along now, don't dawdle." one guard said gruffly, prodding Sydney in the back with his baton. Jeez, she was going! The three of them were marched down to a secluded hallway, with dim lighting and a chill to the air. Talk about creepy. Sydney's hopes were just starting to get up, maybe they'd have a group questioning!-when the guard stopped by one door, gesturing impatiently. "You there, little boy, you are here." he said, nudging him. Cam looked up at her, slight concern on his face, but she nodded, figuring he'd be fine. He released her hand and scampered in the room, and the heavy door slammed shut behind him, and Sydney's brow mashed together for a second, worried. She didn't have much time to mull over it, though, as the guards marched them to the next door. "In here, boy." the guard announced, pointing to the room. Sydney gave a tight smile to him in farewell, and then she was alone with the guards. They walked in silence a few steps, and stopped at the next room. "Inside, girl. Go." he proclaimed, and she sighed and trodded in, hearing the slam behind her. The room was dark, with only a bright white light on the table, in the middle of the room. Sydney took her place in one chair, across from the skinny, snakelike man. He was lean and tall, and looked like some strange insect, legs bent so much sitting in the chair. He had a long nose, small eyes, and greasy hair. She watched him with an impassive face, waiting.
"Hello, Miss Delacroix. Did you have a pleasant lunch?" he finally asked, a sneaky sort of smirk on his face that turned her stomach. Don't take the bait, Syd, she warned herself.
"I suppose, sir." she muttered, not giving anything away. He blinked but didn't comment, just opened a thick file.
"Now then, what do you know of a girl named...Trish Ravenfold? What do you know of her plans? Who is her outside contact?" he asked in rapid succession. She frowned and considered. Ravenfold, she thought, was a cool last name. But the Snake, as she was referring to him, wouldn't much appreciate that information.
"I only met her today, sir. I don't know anything." she said simply, receiving a doubtful look in response.
"I do not appreciate lying, Miss Delacroix. Not one bit. It was reported that you started quite the uproar in the lunch hour, and she assisted you. It was during this that she escaped. Now I want you to tell me why you helped this girl escape. What is her goal?" he snapped, and Sydney knew that this grilling was heading downhill fast.
"And I don't appreciate being called a liar, so I guess we're both unhappy." she said shortly, taking a deep breath. "I don't know her. She escaped by chance when all that went down. And I was only sticking up for a little girl who was being bullied by the guards." she said calmly.
His face was red, and Sydney wondered if his veins would start popping, like in cartoons. "You would be wise to hold off on the attitude, Miss Delacroix, or this will become a very unpleasant experience for you..."
Sydney smirked slightly, knowing she shouldn't go down this road but unable to hold off. Just a little bit. "What are you gonna do, count to three until I settle down?" she said snarkily, enjoying the look on his face a great deal. --
Cam shivered, the room dark and chilly. The woman who sat across from him was reading his file for a bit, staying silent. She reminded Cam of a hawk, with a beaky nose and her hair pulled tightly back from her face. She looked up finally, and clacked her nails on the desk. "So, Cameron, would you like to tell me what happened at lunch today? If you tell me where Trish went, we can finish up nice and early, and you won't have to spend any more time here. Just cooperate, okay?" she said in a fake sweet voice that was a bit disturbing. Cam pondered this for a bit, and then nodded slowly. She seemed pleasantly surprised.
"Well, first of all, I got to lunch late because the guard got to my cell late...Do you know why? His name was John. Do you know him? He's tall, super tall, and he has red hair, and.."
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Dormant
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I swear next time I make a character they are going to be Japanese
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Sept 19, 2016 22:08:23 GMT -10
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Viscount (Viscountess)
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Post by Specter Seren on Feb 24, 2013 14:15:41 GMT -10
~Deimah~
Since there were only sparse vegetables on her plate, Deimah finished eating in a relatively short amount of time. Usually, if the server knew her, they would try and slip her a little extra portion, just to be nice, she supposed. But since this lady was new, there were no such privileges afforded her. Even after all her efforts to appear trustworthy earlier.
For a few moments she sat in silence, feeling like Moses parting the ocean tides with the stream of children and guards that parted around her. Since she had been a rather social girl...not social in the chatty sense, but in the sense that her confidence drew people to her, allowed her to be flexible in making friends...Deimah had never really experienced the feelings of being a social outcast.
She supposed that it was something she had to get used to, though. After all, its lonely at the top.
As a guard entered into the room, ushering all of the kids to leave, Deimah stood with a sigh, as if the whole ordeal was all-too trying for her. In reality her mind was flickering with glee. Confrontations with her superiors in the facility were always interesting in the sense that a few carefully-placed words could allow her to gain so much. This confrontation would be especially interesting, as there was a lot more at stake than just a smidgen more trust or a petty allowance.
Brushing out her skirt and straightening her shirt, Deimah picked up her tray and set it on top of a nearby trashcan. At least the children were lucky in that the Aristocrats didn’t even trust them enough to do menial work such as clean up after themselves. Living in the facility could be a lot more drab if cleaning was involved.
Deimah hated cleaning. Such a misogynistic view of the world...making women clean because that’s what they were good for. Well, sitting around on pins and needles waiting for kids to come home from school and losing chunks of the family fortune bidding for Disney paraphernalia on eBay was all fine and dandy for some. She herself could never be content with such a vapid life.
Well, that’s what the agenda was for, after all.
As she lined up to be excused, running through a hundred different ways to introduce herself to the guard...what had been his name again...? Vincent? She noticed out of the corner of her eye the three from earlier.
[Of course...exiting together. How quaint.]
Mildly annoyed with herself, Deimah wiped the thought from her mind. Really. How petty would she be if every time she saw the three she would react in such a way?
After her meeting with Vincent in the office, there would be some serious reflection, Deimah predicted. First to settle her odd little problem with the three. Then...to amend the agenda.
Well, it seemed as if the fate of the three jolly companions would be less savory than her own, if all went correctly. As they were led out by a guard, Deimah could only guess what kind of meeting they were about to have.
What? Why on Earth would she want to? That would be endangering her already precarious position. Not so fast, Deimah. You have to earn power before you can exercise it.
With a polite nod to the guard as she walked past, Deimah made her way down the hallway back to the main cellblock with all the other kids. However, she took an early turn left, finding herself in a very short hall which used to be at the front of where the school’s office was. Before the tangled mess of authority that had been the admin’s officers, there was a single, albeit smaller, room where one of the lower-rung secretaries had taken nest.
Now, that room was where the guards made their home base, taking turns to watch video monitors and go through piles upon piles of mysterious files.
Deimah, privileged as she was, had only ever been allowed to stand outside the door dinky in appearance but grandiose in the possibilities it concealed. From the flashes of the Aristocrat world she could glimpse from the partially-opened guard-filled door, she could see rows of shelves all filled with binders and other sources of information leading straight to the Aristocrat’s hearts.
How she longed to be in that room, alone, one day. But that would have to wait.
With a polite knock Deimah folded her hands behind her back, waiting patiently with as neutral an expression on her face as she could muster.
Even though, before the whole “takeover,” Deimah had never really considered herself “beautiful,” per say, she had always acknowledged a certain sort of coquettish prettiness in her petite body and wispy hair. She had never had a problem finding a boyfriend, although none of them had really interested her very much. They were fun experiments...and while she had always sought to connect her heart with another, that feeling of complete abandonment which she had seen played out so many times in all she saw and read, had never come to her.
Not that it really mattered, she supposed. Not only was she still young, but she was goal-driven. Boys and feelings of reckless tended to only get in the way.
The stories Deimah most hated were those where the girl gives up her talent, hobby, or career in order to be with the man.
Really.
How could one every feel so strongly about someone else?
The slow, steady creaking of the door, evidently being dragged open by a careless hand, drew the girl from her thoughts.
“You can come in. Sorry, I’m a bit preoccupied with paper work.”
Being invited inside...Deimah smiled, obviously pleased. That could only mean good things ahead.
Inside the once so elusive office was much as Deimah had expected. Shelves which had once been filled with information on students and school affairs were now cluttered with mysterious white binders. Folders were piled in crates on the floor, and the walls which were both door and shelf free were taken up by TVs all showing pieces of the facility at different angles. All in all, the room was hardly impressive, and there was a distinct smell which Deimah’s daintier instincts impulsively drew away from.
Men. So unhygienic.
Nearest the door was Vincent, bent over a desk with a (rather out-dated) computer monitor and five of the files spread open with flurries of paper and writing utensils spread around them.
It wouldn’t take three guesses to let Deimah knew whose files those were.
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Post by elise13 on Feb 24, 2013 16:20:14 GMT -10
((The long post to end all long posts!!))
Luke nodded. Good, that was exactly the response he had hoped for. Any other response would have been very upsetting. After all, they had just fought together. He had earned some small bit of camaraderie at least. Luke slowed to walk alongside them towards the door. For a moment, it seemed like a normal day. They were just three kids finishing lunch. And then they were going to walk home. Maybe stop for ice cream. In this fantasy, Cameron was Sydney’s little brother and they were all good friends. He was not sure if they were babysitting or they had just let him come along to lunch. Luke decided they were meeting Jay and one of her friends for ice cream. His rather in depth idea was yanked off track by the words of the guard. As it turned out, they were not going out for ice cream. Part of Luke was tempted to complain. To just outwardly proclaim that this was all unjust and they earned a break. But the rest of him shoved that part down and tied it up. Luke was better off staying quiet and acting the part of obedient citizen. So he did. He shoved his hands in his pockets (ever the angry teen) and walked alongside Sydney and Cam. The hallway felt endless. It was dim, which he supposed was intentional. Cold as well. Had they gone down a flight of stairs? No. Perhaps the chill was also intentional. To put the interrogated children off their game. Or maybe just to make them uncomfortable. Luke was quickly grateful no one that thought to apply that to the cells, otherwise he would probably freeze. The provided blanket was thin, so would be useless against any actual cold weather. First gone was Cameron. Poor boy. They walked to the next door. Here, he was told to step into the room. He was trying to figure out the purpose of the order? To put a room between Sydney and Cam? Was there any purpose? Luke felt like there had to be a more significant meaning for the order the kids were plucked off. He supposed not, for he could find none. Luke nodded at Syd, pulling the door open. He barely got through the threshold by the time the guard slammed the door after him. Luke scowled, how polite. He shook his head, as if recovering from the door being slammed on him and actually looked in the room. There was a table, designed to seat two people. Barely. If two people were to try to eat on this table, they would have to be sharing a plate to be there comfortably. Despite the space issue, it seemed he was expected to sit down, if he was to gain anything from the look the man was giving him. The man was not as imposing as some of his previous interviewers. Perhaps they had finally realized that fear was not very effective at getting answers out of Luke. Not that anything really was. The man was not very tall, Luke could not tell his exact height since he was seated. But he was probably shorter than Luke. The man was clean-shaven, which was a relief for some reason. Many of the rougher guards had facial hair, which caused Luke to be a bit nervous around people with so much as a mustache. That was going to be a pain later in life. The man said, his voice gruffer than Luke may have expected, “Sit down already.” Luke had been so busy thinking that he had forgotten to sit. Or maybe he had chosen not to, he really was not sure. Luke sat down as he was told, despite what his subconscious had done before. He put on his best blank face and sat there placidly. Non-violent rebellion, he decided. That’s what it was called. Like Gandhi. Not really, but enough for the comparison to be valid. Luke would never be going on a hunger strike though. No matter how much he disagreed with /anything/. It was not worth the hunger. The man said, hands folded on the table, “What do you know?” Luke shrugged. That was vague. Too vague to get a dignified answer. Honestly, could the man have asked a dumber question? The man sighed, obviously annoyed. He tried again, “What do you know about the incident at lunch?” Luke shrugged again. A vein popped out on the man’s forehead. It was even throbbing. That was not good form for an interrogator. The man barely kept his cool for a minute. The questioner took a breath, the vein receding back into his forehead. He took a moment, obviously trying to extrapolate a question Luke would have to answer with words. Luke imagined that task was harder than it sounded. Shrugs were really an effective communicator. “Where’d you get that bruise?” He gestured to Luke’s jawline. Luke shrugged. Honestly, the man was not even trying. The man growled, slamming his hand on the table, “Tell me!” Not good form at all. An eight-year-old could do better. Fine, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but still. At the lack of response, the man tried a new tactic, “Luke, if you don’t answer my questions we’ll be here all day. Being uncooperative will get you nowhere. I have in my notes you hardly deign to answer the questions of the authorities. I think you fail to grasp the situation. You are living here for your own protection. If you went out into the world, those escapees- like the girl who escaped only this afternoon- would likely attack you.” Luke raised his brows. Really, that was what they were going with? The other kids were the problem. The man continued, “So now that we understand each other. Let us try this again.” “What do you know about this incident at lunch? With the girl who escaped.” Luke shrugged. He was not even lying. He knew nothing. She turned into the avatar and left; how what that his problem? The man sighed, the vein making another appearance. He added, “I know you got involved in the fight alongside Sydney Delacroix. You can be reprimanded for that.” Luke shrugged again, still expressionless. He could do this all day. The man reached across the table, grabbing Luke’s shirt collar. Luke scrambled to regain his balance, but half of him was uncomfortable being held above the table. The man yelled in his face, “Listen here, kid! You’re going to tell me what happened or so help me, you’ll never see the light of day!” More threats. And here he thought this interview would be different. Well, what was different was he was being tossed around a bit. And that vein was still there. It was starting to gross Luke out a bit. Luke managed something that looked like a shrug. The man threw him back, causing Luke (and his chair) to go skidding back. The man shrieked, his voice up an octave, “I’m reporting this.” Tattletale. Luke stayed seated, not sure what he was supposed to do with that threat. The man stormed out, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he was sure the man was gone, Luke hopped up. That was convenient. He checked the door. Locked. Darn. Well, he did not know what he would have done if it had been open. Probably nothing. He had no way to escape. And going to his cell was not exactly a step up in the world. Luke sat back down, crossing his arms and waiting for someone else to come and give him a hard time.
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Post by elise13 on Feb 24, 2013 16:37:08 GMT -10
Prison! TRISH WAS IN PRISON BEFORE!! Jay’s mind was overrun with questions to ask that she was not even capable of coherent thought. And by the time she resumed control of her faculties, an argument between the other two was already in progress. Man, she just missed something. She got too excited at the thought of Luke. If that girl did not have news about her brother, Jay would kick her. Now Kyosuke was resuming asking about who he was and the girl, Trish, Jay reminded herself, was sniffling about how she had thought she was something special. No, those were hormones showing up. That could prove inconvenient. And she called him assassin. Oh, so that really was what he did normally. No wonder he was already so quick to attack. At least he had a reason for it. Jay had been a bit worried that the gassing had done that to him. As long as he was like that before, it was fine. Not really, but less terrible than it was otherwise. Jay frowned, she did not know what to do. They were fighting and she felt like she ought not get involved. Jay attempted at sympathy, “Trish, he really is, um, amnesiac. It’s not like he is forgetting just you. So please don’t take it personally.” Kyosuke had known an awfully tearful girl for an assassin. Maybe he was her bodyguard or something. That would explain her thinking they were really close when she was teary and he was stoic. Or maybe his personality was different now. It was all a bit confusing. Jay really did not want to be involved. She had done her part as far as she was concerned. Finally, they arrived at the base. No one paid particular attention to their arrival. Jay yelled, “Kevin! I need your assistance! ASAP please!” She was a demanding person. Jay was at a lack for what to do with the body of the foreigner, so she was hoping dear Kevin would have an ingenious plan in mind. Jay said, turning back to Trish, “Now I have a question, Trish. This is very important. Have you seen my brother?” She realized that was no explanation. She continued, “He’s really tall. Like five eleven or something. He’s got blonde hair like mine. No it’s not like mine, it’s darker. And he, um, he doesn’t talk much. And his eyes are blue. And he has really straight teeth. Like freaky straight. But he never had braces. Sorry, off topic. His name is Luke. Have you seen him? Was he there? Is he okay?” At some point in this exchange, she had grabbed the girl’s shoulders, as if she could squeeze the information out of her.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 24, 2013 16:49:49 GMT -10
Kevin had been so completely engrossed in his work that he hadn't even seen the group walk in. In fact, he didn't take any notice at all until he heard Jay yelling for him.
He looked up. Interesting. So they'd found some new additions? Jay seemed very intent on her conversation (or more likely interrogation), of the girl. Kevin raised an eyebrow. The other one...why was he unconscious? He guessed he would find out soon enough.
Closing his laptop, he wrapped it carefully in his sweater and set it aside. Then he got up and made his way over to the group.
Kevin walked up beside Jay, adjusting his glasses as he scrutinized the newcomers.
"What happened?"
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"On this day, I go to Soverngarde."
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Jan 22, 2018 7:10:38 GMT -10
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Marquis (Marquise)
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Post by LycanHeart on Feb 24, 2013 17:25:03 GMT -10
Before Trish could get anything else from Kyosuke, she was violently shaken by the girl who look like the leader to the whole group of children they had arrived at. Darker blonde hair? Blue eyes? Straight teeth? That would be.....Luke?
"Ah, that guy's your brother, then yeah, I've met him," Trish replied amidst that violent shake. "I...I suppose you're right. Amnesia was not something that can be easily dissipated or even explained," she continued on, watching Kyosuke dumping that unconscious person onto a pile of schoolbooks. "Has he ever been this talkative before?" Trish asked nonchalantly at the girl who was pestering her with questions, the leader.
Kyosuke sat down at a nearby chair, checking his inventory. So far he has a pair of kitchen knives, a combat dagger he nicked from the same dead soldier he stole the pants from, six scalpel he stole from the hospital when he was getting medical supplies, and a butcher knife he had took from the same store he had stolen the kitchen knives from. Usually used to cut up bodies for disposal. Other different knives for different purposes, but he rarely used them. It was troublesome to get the scalpels, and the combat knife only comes once in a while, so if he could, he would prefer to use only the kitchen knives or the butcher knife.
That girl, Trish, said she knew him, and rather intimately. His eyes met hers, though they were more emotionless and more towards confusion. How did she know him? How long has she known him? Why were they close?
Why him?
How was it so?
Who was he?
Wait. He is more talkative now, she says? So he talks less when it was before?
Who /was/ he prior to the gassing?
Looking at the guy, Yenta, he now hoped that he would touch him again, let him dive back into his memories, to find his memories again.
If only it was that easy....
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Post by elise13 on Feb 24, 2013 18:51:11 GMT -10
Jay released the girl. She had met him. He was alive! Luke was alive! The girl had SEEN him. And he was alive! She knew he wasn’t dead. And she had been right! He was fine. He was living and breathing and the girl saw him. Jay realized he was nearby too then. After all, the girl could not have gone that far between her escape and meeting them. He was probably at the facility she had just been to herself! She had been that close to him! And he was alive. Jay could handle that. As long as he was alive and close. Everything would just be so much better. It was as if a new sun had risen that morning. Luke was alive. And she would see him soon. If Luke was there, maybe that meant some of the other kid’s siblings were as well. They would all be saved. Jay felt compelled to dance around and hug everyone. Even the unconscious boy, she was so excited. That would be inappropriate though, she thought. Hopping around like a bunny would also be inappropriate. But Luke was /alive/. Jay took a breath of relief to find her eyes were tearing up. Gah! She was such a girl. Jay rubbed her fingertips against her face, shoving those tears right back where they came from. No crying. She was a leader. Leaders didn’t cry. They were brave and cool-headed. Well, she had already lost the cool-headed award, but she still had her dignity. As long as she calmed down. Still, an exclamation bubbled out of her, “He’s alive!” Jay cleared her throat, “Sorry, got excited.” Yet she had yet to get that dumb grin off her face. Well, that was another matter for another time. Jay straightened up, trying to get back on track, “Right, well, we’ll discuss this further once we settle the matter of that guy.” She added, “As to your question, not really…? He doesn’t talk much, if that’s what you meant.” Jay shouted, “Kevin!” She turned, finding him right next to her. She winced, “Oh, Kevin, I’m sorry. You were right here. I was distracted. Did you hear her? She was at the facility. We have to get her a list of names and descriptions and see...Ahem.” She was talking too fast. She needed to calm down a little bit more. Geez, she thought she had already sorted this. Jay took a breath, “I mean, there’s this guy now.” Jay pointed at the unconscious boy, who was lying haphazardly on the textbooks. That was a terrible place to drop him, even if he was a prisoner. She would take care of that in a minute, she decided. Jay explained, “Kyosuke spotted him.” She summarized the previous events, down to the bizarre details of the fight. “And I told him to stay down and he didn’t, so I knocked him out. Now we’re here. It’s been about five minutes or so. We don’t have too long,” she finished. She had covered all the information Kevin might need to know, including the whole peculiar “milady” thing with Kris, which she found to be both amusing and frightening. They would discuss Trish later. Away from her ears preferably. Not that they were telling secrets, she would just rather not discuss it in front of her. But there was the matter at hand to deal with. Jay asked, “So I don’t know if he’s good her bad. He’s a kid though, so I feel a bit bad doing something terrible to him. So what should we do? Should we tie him up or something?” She looked over at Kevin, shrugging and knitting her brows together. She really had no idea what to do with a hostage outside of what she had seen in movies. Jay added, “Actually, I don’t think we have any rope, so that might be out.” She shrugged again.
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"Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!"
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Dec 5, 2020 9:20:08 GMT -10
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Post by smartblondie on Feb 25, 2013 10:10:20 GMT -10
So this was going well. Sydney sat still, almost lounging in the chair, keeping eye contact with the interrogator. He was wheeling between a creepy calm and foaming at the mouth. Bipolar little sucker, wasn't he? He'd been angry at her sarcasm, and nearly slapped her right then, but he seemed to be taking in her disheveled appearance. They wanted her broken, not dead. Couldn't take risks, at this point. For once, she was glad she had gotten a little worn and torn today. First time it had paid off for her. Unfortunately, she was better at coping with physical pain than psychological or emotional. Little quirk. Obviously threats didn't do much for her. So now it was silent, as the Snake rustled through her file slowly, thinking. So silent that through the thin walls, Sydney startled at the sound of a gruff yelling voice coming from the room next door. That was..Luke's, she recalled. Well, seemed like he got a real peachy guy. "Ahem." the Snake cleared his throat and she returned her attention to him, raising a brow expectantly. "Miss Delacroix, it is evident that you are a charismatic girl. Your record outlines that, evidenced in your school affiliations, and you seem to have become the voice of the people here in the facility. This would lead me to believe that you had some modicum of intelligence. So either you are more foolish than I thought, by withholding information, or are trying to be sneaky and get something in return." he said smoothly, going down a route she hadn't expected. Then he pulled out a paper, and slid it over to her. She sucked in her breath unconsciously, fists curling. Her little brother smiled up at her from a picture in the corner. The paper had a bunch of biological information, height, weight, all that jazz. There was a big red stamp across the page. "Terminated", it read. Like hell she wanted this. She glared up at him, and his face stayed smooth. "You care a great deal for your brother, am I right? You are defiant because of his death. I can give you the man who shot him down, Miss Delacroix. I will let you personally terminate him, if you agree to cooperate. Just tell us where Trish went. Who else is in on this?" he proposed with a small smile. In the beat that followed, a door slam was heard from next door.
Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she met his gaze again. "You're willing to sell out and kill your own ally, your own coworker, for information? You're disgusting." she said in a low voice, venom in her tone. He gasped like a fish for a second, then snarled angrily, and flew out of his seat, straight for her. She tried to move away, but he grabbed her by the chin and pulled her face very close to his. Creep.
"You insolent girl. How dare you speak to me in such a way. For someone who will be an adult in less than a year, you act like a young child. Your thick skull will not stop us from finding them, and if our patience for you runs thin before you are 18, your death will be much slower than your stupid brother's." he spat at her, eyes crazed. What a freak. She quelled the need to shiver, to flinch, to snap right back. She just glared at him, eyes level, and raised her brows expectantly, as if to say, "And..?" He huffed angrily, and released her jaw with a shove that was so forceful her chair clattered down, and she stumbled down. Anger issues, much? "I will return shortly, and perhaps then you'll be ready to use your brain." he said rudely, storming out. She scrambled up to her feet and chased after, but the door was shut tight and locked. She slammed on the door in frustration, but knew it would do nothing, so she slumped over to the table again, fixing her chair. Huh. He'd left her file. She shifted through it, curious. Papers, school documents, like transcripts, as well as detailed descriptions of behavior and her abilities. Pictures, too. She wondered how they even got some of these. One of her as a little girl, pigtails and a red dress. Another of her as a preteen, at her first real surfing competition. A picture of her and her brother in the hospital when she'd fallen down the stairs and sprained her wrist and he'd demanded to be with her. A picture from high school, of homecoming. Sparkly blue dress, heels. God, this was creepy. She was sickened by the personal things they'd collected, but couldn't stop looking. Her fingers trembled over a family photo, from just last year, of them at the lake house during Spring Break. How dare they take this. Without thinking, she had grabbed in and folding it carefully, and slid it into her pocket. Stupid, maybe, but they wouldn't notice one picture.
Anyway, she was already getting bored of this dim room. She walked the perimeter of the room, antsy and the frustrations of the day officially caught up with her. She didn't do well in total silence like this. Creeped her out. These freaks knew all of her personal life, knew about her family, what they were like, and she was locked up with a bunch of other kids. This was sick! Anger from before bubbling up, she punched at the wall, not so hard as to make a hole (That would be hard to explain) but chipping away several chunks of brick beneath the drywall and paint. She drew back, wincing, and scowled at her bloody knuckles. Whoops, that was the wall attached to Luke's cell too. Noise probably startled him a bit, but if his interrogator was gone, maybe they could communicate. She didn't do well with no human contact. Now she knocking on the wall with her other hand, seriously contemplating knocking a hole in the wall. Well, that might be a bit extreme. "Hello...?" she called in a hushed voice, feeling a bit silly. --
"...and then I finally got to the lunch room, and Sydney was there. Do you know her? She has long blond hair, to here, or maybe here.."
"O-okay, Cameron, thank you. I've heard enough, I think. I'm going to go consult with some of my coworkers, and we'll resume this later. Hopefully with some more important information, okay?" she said, looking puzzled. So he'd distracted a little bit with his mind. It wasn't so bad, just enough to make her not care that he was babbling. This power thing was kind of fun.
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May 16, 2024 18:43:03 GMT -10
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Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2013 12:30:56 GMT -10
Kevin blinked rapidly in surprise as Jay shouted in his ear. After recovering from that though, he quickly became alert, listening to every word. So, this girl had escaped. And judging from the goofy grin that still held onto Jay's face, her brother was alive...
His eyes widened, and he looked hard at the girl. Maybe she knew about his sisters! Maybe they were alive, maybe they...
No.
He closed his eyes for a moment, pushing back down all the questions he wanted to ask. They would have to wait for another time. He had to stay focused.
Clearing his throat, Kevin looked over at the boy, sprawled unceremoniously over a pile of textbooks. Well that was an injustice. To the books, that is. He'd have to make sure they weren't damaged, later.
"I don't think tying him up is necessary. You took care of him before, if he makes trouble it shouldn't be hard to get him back under control. Although, we should probably have him guarded by someone until he wakes up."
He glanced back over at Jay. Now that they had someone in their group who had first hand experience in the facilities, they could start seriously planning a raid. Hopefully the girl had helpful information.
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"On this day, I go to Soverngarde."
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Jan 22, 2018 7:10:38 GMT -10
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Marquis (Marquise)
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Post by LycanHeart on Feb 25, 2013 13:09:50 GMT -10
Kyosuke had been listening to the conversation between the leader Jay and the hacker, Kevin, for a while now. While he was not totally convinced that whoever they were looking for would still be alive--I mean, if Trish escaped, the others would be in high alert--then the job of rescuing them would be a difficult one if they had not done infiltration work beforehand, and personally Kyosuke had entered the building, not as a prisoner, but just to scout the compounds.
"The compounds are guarded by three shifts of guards that rotate shifts every eight hours, and the time gap between each is a mere five minutes," Kyosuke muttered as he cleaned his knives. "Each shift of guards consists of four clusters, with each cluster a bunch of four armed soldiers and enforcers. Each corner is set up with a watchtower that would alert the others when they see impending enemies or suspicious units. Unless we take them out, there's no hope of even getting close to the compound," he raised a scalpel to eye level and closed one eye, checking the blade for imperfections.
"As for the boy, be careful of his powers. His touch sends hallucinations to the mind, so I would rather have him grounded," Kyosuke said out loud to Jay, warning her of the youth's abilities. He was not sure what does it exactly do, but he knows the youth can be dangerous.
=========================================
Sitting on a chair beside Kyosuke, Trish watched as her childhood hero sat about cleaning his assortment of knives. She was tempted to ask about the whereabouts of his usual assortment of weapons, but held it in. Perhaps he had also forgotten about his father and his efforts to save her from her mother's treacherous grasps.
Perhaps.....perhaps he really had forgotten about her.
Amnesia, eh?
"How...," Trish spoke up, shattering the awkward silence between the two of them. "How did you lose your memories anyway?" She thought she had to find something to break the ice, something to say, something she can relate or remind him of her. Little did she know, that the conversation would have an adverse effect on the young girl's heart....
"I...I do not know," Kyosuke replied, his fingers stopped polishing the kitchen knives for a while, the scalpels done and glistening gently in the dark lights of the Sanctuary. "I only remember standing outside the school where I believe I was attending, and that was it," he answered honestly. True, he only remembered that, and he carried nothing of memorial value, not even a gift from his parents. Did his parents ever gave him gifts?
Then, remembering that he asked Kris to get him a few sharpening stones of various grinds, he got up, placed the kitchen knives he was polishing, and muttered a quick, "I'm sorry," and walked off to find the Chameleon girl.
He felt bad, but it was nothing close to affection.
More like, apologetic sadness.
What was he to Trish?
=====================================
He.....he really had forgotten about me..............
Tears welling up in her eyes and controllable no more, her hands covered her face, muffling the sobs and cries of a young girl whose heart was wounded, amidst the darkness of the underground Sanctuary that was to be her new home.....
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Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2013 15:42:19 GMT -10
Seeing that she was no longer needed, Kris had stood back from the group, taking everything in. After everything calmed down, and the group headed back, she followed quietly, stopping at the ladder to retrieve the things she had left.
The bag of groceries didn't seem to have gotten too much water on it, fortunately it was just slightly damp, and the plastic kept out everything else. That was a relief, soggy food was never incredibly appetizing.
She hefted the bag onto her shoulder and turned to her sweatshirt, still soaking wet and hanging on the ladder. Reaching into the front pocket, Kris realized that she'd left her iPod in there. Hurriedly, she wiped it off as best she could with the end of her tank top and tried to turn it on. She sighed, 'Oh good, it still works.' The mp3 player was the only thing she had left, and consequently it had become very important to her.
Oh right, there was that other thing. That kid, Kyosuke, had asked her to get sharpening stones for his rather extensive knife collection. Kris sometimes got special requests when she went out on her...shopping trips, but nothing like this before. She was pretty sure he thought he was a ninja or something. He'd better appreciate it, they'd been a pain and a half to find. But whatever, anything to keep people happy, right? She figured the least she could do was pick up a few little things when people asked. But what confused her was the fact that Kyosuke had gone to the trouble of having to explain to her in detail what he wanted. He had a similar ability to hers, right? Seems like it would have been easier to go get them himself.
Shrugging, Kris retrieved the package from her sweatshirt and stuck it on the top of the grocery bag. Shouldering it again, she went off in search of ninja boy.
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I swear next time I make a character they are going to be Japanese
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Sept 19, 2016 22:08:23 GMT -10
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Post by Specter Seren on Feb 25, 2013 16:33:40 GMT -10
~Deimah~
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
The office, being quite cramped enough with all its furniture and paperwork, had room enough only for one chair at the computer desk where Vincent now sat. Therefore, Deimah remained standing in her neutral position. It reminded her, actually, of the time she had tried out for the class play in elementary school. They had been doing some watered-down rendition of the already boring “Little Red Riding Hood.” Deimah, of course, had wanted to play the part of the Wolf. But on the day that the casting was announced, the young girl was dismayed to see that she had been given the lead - Little Red.
[“But mother, Red Riding Hood is stupid. I wanna be the wolf! He’s a lot more fun!”]
Her mother, teachers, and friends had all made light of her, thinking that she had just been silly. How darling she would look in the cute, frilly little red dress! And it was true, her hair had been a bit paler back then, and when her mother had spent the hour curling it and putting on her stage makeup, Deimah had looked rather pretty.
Regardless, that play had marked the end of the girl’s theatre career. The part of the wolf had been, obviously enough, assigned to the class “bad boy,” who liked to chase the girls around at recess.
Silly.
As Deimah drifted back in memory, her audition-perfect stance never wavering in its eerie stillness, Vincent continued to scribble some note or another in one of the pulled-apart files on his desk. A quick flick of the eyes told her whose it was, too.
The blondie’s.
Deimah slowly blinked, wondering just how well-backed up the Aristocrat’s file system was. If they had paper copies of everything...did that mean there was no digital record? Digital records would be easier to hack into...or at least, they could have been, if she had possessed such skills. But due to her brother’s involvement in such frivolities, Deimah had distanced herself as far away from computers and their ilk as humanely possible in the modern world. If she temporarily “borrowed” a file, though...how long until it would be noticed...?
“There. Sorry about that. First time we’ve really had an escape at this facility. Not exactly used to the protocol, yet. What a mess.”
As the guard turned around he eyed Deimah oddly, as if he already regretted even parting that much information to her.
[Oh come on...]
Deimah believed herself justified in thinking she had at least earned that much trust.
“I can only imagine.”
Instead of voicing her concerns, Deimah only obediently dipped her head, allowing the long, wispy hair to swoop in front of her face, coming out from behind her ears where she usually liked to keep it.
“Yes...”
As she lifted her head, the young girl saw that Vincent, still staring at her oddly, didn’t seem ready to make any sort of move just yet. What was he waiting for? The awkward silence hung in the air, made all the more unbearable by the piercing nature of Deimah’s eyes which, even in front of her superiors, she could never truly control.
“As I understand it...you were rather involved in the incident yourself.”
Vincent swiveled back around in his chair, reminding the girl how much she disliked it when other people had swivel chairs and she did not, this time selecting a different file from the desk. Hers. Deimah instantly wondered what was in it, and if there was anything to make it especially different than the blonde girl’s he had been writing in before.
“I thought I would try to lend my services. I apologize if this help was unwanted.”
Even though she had been pretty confident of her success the minute she had been invited inside of the room, the way that the guard was dancing around the point of things was beginning to make the girl wonder. Couldn’t he just praise her already? Or at least her let know what his true motives for summoning her were?
“Listen,” the sudden more serious and to-the-point tone the guard took on surprised Deimah in a pleasing way. Finally.
“You’re a smart one, I can tell. Not even 15 yet and already I see in you the mind of one matured far beyond that age.”
Oh? Now this was unexpected. That was quite the compliment, for a guard to be paying a kid. Deimah had always suspected that the guards hated the children. Then again, they were human beings. And what human could honestly hate an adorable little kid?
“Reminds me a bit of my daughter, actually...”
If Deimah had been interested before, this latest development was enough to send her in a tizzy...at least, it could have been were she prone to such weaknesses. Instead, the calculating girl instantly filed this information away. An Aristocratic guard with a daughter complex? And he must have it bad, too, if he had felt the urge to mention it to her, who should have been relatively unimportant. Information like that could be used in a variety of ways. She’d even sell him out to his fellow men, if it ever came to that. But in the meantime, if he favored her more because of it, that was all the better.
“I wasn’t aware you had one.”
Perhaps it was safe to try and push the issue just a little more.
“No...Not really. Not anymore.”
Or...perhaps not. Well, still, a point to keep in mind, about this Vincent guard, anyways.
“Anyways, that is all beside the point. Since you seem to be on a similar page to us, I’ll give it to you straight. I’m sure you know something of your standing here at the facility...?”
Deimah just continued to stand, not really feeling any sort of answer was necessary. And sounding too prideful could be a trap.
“Well, one thing is for sure. You’re different. But you’re still a kid. So it’s been...difficult, trying to figure out what we should do with you.
This time Deimah nodded, ever so slightly. This was it. Something big was definitely in store.
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"On this day, I go to Soverngarde."
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Jan 22, 2018 7:10:38 GMT -10
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Post by LycanHeart on Feb 25, 2013 16:33:46 GMT -10
It did not take long for Kyosuke to find Kris, who wore almost the same wardrobe as he did. Or perhaps it was just coincidence that they both wear hooded jackets. But that made finding her easier. If they're both un-cloaked or un-shrouded.
"Kris, have you gotten the sharpening stones that I have requested?" Kyosuke immediately asked the younger girl about the shopping list that he had given her.
In his eyes, Kris seemed to be another assassin-to-be, another assassin material that he can shape and mold to be efficient in both combat and infiltration. But such training usually begins from young, and the scene of eviscerated evidence and severed limbs may not be everyone to stomach. Even the intruders that Kyosuke had disposed of were done after everyone left him to do his job.
Then again, he is interested in her abilities.....
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Mischief Managed!
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Post by elise13 on Feb 25, 2013 16:42:21 GMT -10
((There now Sleeping Beauty can rise again!))
Jay looked back at the awkward body. This still seemed a bit suspicious to her. Maybe she was feeling a big guilty about that matter. But he had started the whole incident, so it was his own fault he was going to wake up with a backache. Jay mumbled to Kevin, “Yeah, he was not much of a fighter, I suppose.” She smirked, “Who wants to be a babysitter first is the question.” Jay would take first watch. She would like to be nearby to keep an eye on him. In fact, she would really prefer to stay there the whole time. Not that she mistrusted anyone else, she just liked having control. Maybe that made her a control freak in a way. Well, she was a control freak, she could deal with that. Jay was called away from her thoughts on how others might see her by Kyosuke’s sudden outburst. As if he had been reading her mind about her brother, he started telling them about the security on the building. She paled. A hand flew to her hair. He was more serious about it than even she was at this point. And it was terrible. There was so much security. On the bright side, Kyosuke had an eye for breaking through security. She supposed it was his past getting involved there. He must have done that sort of stuff before. She imagined that was something assassins were used to doing. Staking out buildings. And she thought that she had been checking the building out. But Kyosuke had been doing a much better job. Though he probably had more free time on his hands. After all, she led a mess of kids, he could run off whenever he felt like. Jay finally decided to laugh it off. She teased, “It’s not like we’re planning on breaking in tomorrow.” She added a bit more seriously, “Of course, we’ll definitely come back to that when we start making preparations. We’ll keep it in mind. Jay raised her eyebrows, power? That explained so much! No wonder Kyosuke had been unconscious. He was hallucinating. Weird. Jay looked back at the body. She had about a million questions about that. Though none of them very sensible. It was a unique power. Very different than anything she might have expected. And unconventional too. It was certainly not a standard power like that of the elements or even the power over electricity or technology. All that seemed standard. Not to say that she cared. Of course she didn’t care. No, this kid was trouble not a science experiment. Still she was curious. Jay queried, “Are you sure? Just by touch.” She walked over, instructing, “If I pass out, then I’m sorry. I just /have/ to know.” Jay poked the boy’s cheek tentatively, wincing. She took a breath, she was fine. Jay said, “See. No need to ‘ground’ him. We’ll keep an eye out, of course.”
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