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Location: Cell Block C
Equipment: Bloodied jumpsuit
The vomiting stopped after a few minutes, that much he was happy for. His memories started to return as well, some of them at least. His name, his age he could guess at, who he was started to come in flashes of certain moments. Each flash shook his body, he clutched his head, it hurt, remembering hurt. He had gone feral and the process of civilization was a brutal and torrentuous one. It was a strange sensation, his psychological conditioning returning, his entire self, his soul if you wish, was changing in a matter of moments. Old wounds were reopened then seared closed, his life was returning in fast forward. All the illnesses of the mind returned, The Warrior, for that is what he called it, swept in and saved himself from his emotional turmoil. It brought back his bloodlust, it had saved him in the fire of combat. It was that part of his personality that was filled with darkness, it made him a sociopath. It helped the man to put a name to it, helped him differentiate from his own mind. His feral demeanor transformed into that of a grim soldier, a cold warrior, a sociopathic man. His gaze could shake men, he turned from beast to predator, animal to hunter.
The guards stopped in front of his cell, no doubt attracted to the lack of sound. They peered through the glass at him, he was on display and he knew it. His teeth itched, his body was recovering from what had been done to him though he still couldn't place just what had happened. They opened his cell door and stepped inside. "Time to go get you cleaned up, someone wants to see you."
Location: Showering Halls
Equipment: Nothing
They rushed him to the showers of one of the uppers levels. Where they transferring him? He was stopped in front of a metal door. "Strip." "For you? No."
This was met with an attempted punch to his face, he lowered his head so that the blow connected with the top of his head, one of the hardest parts of the body. The man's hand cracked and he shrieked in pain, clutching the mess that had once been an appendage. He twisted his body and sent a spinning back kick to the other man's head, it connected with a thud and the man dropped. The man with the broken hand had slid down the wall and a vicious knee was sent for his head, it too connected with a crack as the guard's head was sandwiched between the metal wall and an almost equally as hard conditioned knee. The man slumped, blood seeping from his ears. Before he could even crouch down to try and collect the key to his cuffs a heavy form pushed him against the door, the breath was taken from him as he was steadily being pressed against the metal. Hands yanked on him from every direction as the pressure alleviated slightly and he was thrown to the ground, a knee now being pressed into his spine. A strong forced smashed his face into the floor and held it pinned there, a voice called out from above.
"You're in trouble now boy. I'm going to enjoy putting you down."
The Mandalorian scowled as he was hoisted to his feet and was half carried, half pushed off to a section of the ship he had never been in before.
The ship was big. Anyone could tell that. The halls were long and narrow, and guards or cameras were always watching. I retrace my steps back to my cell. I stand at the door trying to remember which way I came from. I vaguely remember the middle hall and I walk down it. A little while later, some wrong turns, and a lot of luck later, I arrive at my old isolation cell. I see a young woman inside (Possibly @Jynx) lying against the wall. I tap on the glass, testing for a reaction from the person inside.
"Hey you! What are you doing?" A pair of guards run down the hall. "Step away from the window! Don't mess with it!" One guard pulls a blaster from his holster and aims it at me. The second continues advancing with a nightstick in his hand.
No way I'm going to get beat by these two. They don't look happy and I'm pretty sure they just want a fight. I feign innocence and fear saying, "I didn't do it! Please don't hurt me!"
The guard grabs my arm and I flip him onto the ground. I grab his nightstick and throw it at his partner. He dodges it, but it was only a distraction. I race up to him and yank the blaster out of his grip. I hit him upside the head with the handle and kick him to the floor. I turn and see the other guard getting up.
"Don't move." Of course, he moves. I switch my aim from his face to his foot and fire. A loud scream of pain erupts from the guard. I run.
The halls are filled with guards now and I go to the path of least resistance. Three unsuspecting guards barely see me before I'm racing past them. I keep turning down halls, dodging guards, shooting cameras, and trying to avoid being captured. No way they'll let me live after shooting a guard and 'messing' with one of their 'experiments'. The next turn I run into a dead end. There's an armored door, with a control panel next to it. I hear guards approaching. With a split second decision I shoot the panel. The door opens. I run inside and shoot the inner panel. The door closes. I see guards on the other side charging, but it's too late. I turn around and see two guard droids flanking a doctor with a remote.
"I asked them to bring me another test subject, but not this way." He smiles wickedly. I look in his eyes and see the evil, crazy, glint that all mad doctors have. "Well, I suppose we can begin operations. Seize him." The droids grab me, try as I might to avoid them or hurt them.
"Thanks but no thanks doc. I've already had my checkup." I protest.
"Oh, so you are one of the tough ones. Let's see if I can find you in the database. You do look familiar." He walks up to a control panel and starts typing.
"Oh, I'm in the database! Yay, I feel so special." I remark dryly. As I speak the droids put me on a table and lock the restraints in place. Solid durasteel. Not getting out of that. "So whatcha gonna do doc? I'm not feeling sick." I look around the room, desperately trying to find a way to escape. Nothing. On the bright side, I angered a bunch of guards. That was actually enjoyable.
Joran Del-Finn sat back at his table all thoughts of the ratman forgotten and went back to eating. As far as prison boats went, this one was not close to the worst Joran had been on. Sure there was the constant screaming and the more than occasional psychopath that roamed the halls but beyond that Joran had little to complain about. He had a bed and cell big enough for two that he shared with no one and the food was more than acceptible, when it came down too it however Joran while doing his best to bide his time paitently until his release could not help but feel there were some strange going ons aboard the purgatory.
"Prisoner one-one-three-eight!" The gaurd Joran had dubbed mynock for the man's unseemingly large ears called at him. Joran ignored him and continued to eat his breakfast.
"Prisoner one-one-three-eight!" Mynock called again. "Prisoner Del-Finn!" Mynock called smacking the table with the heavy club like stun gun that all the guards possesed.
"Prisoner Captain Del-Finn." Joran said correcting the man with a sly condecending tone that some, found charming and most found as a reason to slug Joran in the teeth.
"Time to visit the Doctor, inmate." Mynock said with casual indifference like he might as well of been telling a wall it was time to be painted. Joran's face fell and for more than a moment was struck dumb with fear, something Mynock did not fail to notice.
"Not that, Doctor."
Releif shot through him like a blaster bolt. He was only in for a visit with [member="Cathul Thuku"], the new psych doctor. Joran ate the last few bites of his breakfast and made his way off toward the office of Cathul.
Silas Miu awoke with a start from the blackness that had enveloped him the night before, screaming with the remembered pain. He still felt the pain, but it was a bit more in the background now, as if his body had simply grown accustomed to it. The small amount of light that filtered in from the lights outside of his cell illuminated his cot, as well as the other one that he'd noticed before. As it turns out he does have a cell mate. It also appears that all the stories he'd heard about prison were true. You get tossed into a cell with a giant, brutish cell mate who wants nothing more than to turn you into playtoy. Well, that's at least what Silas' addled mind could come up with under the circumstances.
His cell mate was a gigantic creature, with four huge, meaty arms and who snored heavily. Silas mused whether it was the pain or the snores that awoke him first, but couldn't decide. The creatures darker skin was barely visible as more than an outline in the lighting, but his massive form heaved up and down with each breath in his sleep. He hoped he wouldn't get on the aliens bad side.
Walking unsteadily towards the cell door, he gave it a hesitant try, learning it was open and he was free to walk about the ship, which he didn't know if that bode well for him or not. Maybe he could meet some friendly sorts and come up with a plan to get out of here. He soon reached a large common area, with a large group of fellow prisoners, a squad of heavily armed and armored guards and some medical personnel in place. Wandering over to what looked like the "pharmacy" for the prisoners, he finally asked for help. "Pain. I need painkillers." Silas was able to rasp out, his voice still unsteady and rough from the day before, especially with the strain of immense pain.
A thin blue mote of light beamed out from the small computer next to the disgruntled pharmacist, who's only response was a brief grunt and a sneer. After the blue light scanned him, the pharmacist grunted again, inputting a few commands and collecting some newly formed pills into a small cup, handing it to Silas. Silas, ever grateful, nodded his thanks and stumbled towards a water station to wash his medications down. 'Bottoms up,' he thought to himself, knocking the pills back first, then the water, tasting the awful pills for the first time all the way down his long throat. Shuddering slightly, he drank some more water, hoping the meds would kick in soon.
They did. At first, Silas didn't notice it, except for the numbing of the dulled pain. However, a small cretinous alien, devoid of most clothing approached him not too long after, smoothly letting Silas know that he saw him take some pills, and that any meds in this block belong to him. When Silas told the midget to bugger off, the alien nodded to someone out of sight, and Silas felt a pressure in his side. Looking down, a sharpened plastic utensil stuck out of his side, more towards his back. Funny, he didn't feel anything stab him. Looking behind him, a larger alien looked at him with mild confusion, probably wondering why he wasn't crying out in pain.
Silas grabbed the makeshift shiv, tore it loose from his skin and spun quickly around to face his attacker, driving the shiv up through the aliens thoracic region, probably impaling itself through its heart. A couple more feelings of pressure made themselves known to him on his back, and upon turning around again, he saw the smaller alien wielding two shivs, each covered in Silas' blood. Silas gave the small alien a cold look, dropping his own shiv, then quickly reaching out to grab hold of the small aliens wrists, twisting them sharply to prompt him to drop the shivs, then kneeing him under his chin. The alien fell to the ground as Silas stooped to the ground, grabbing one of the dropped shivs. "Try to rob me again, and I won't go so easy on you."
With that last statement, he drove the shiv straight through the aliens cheeks. The fight over, Silas stood up and assessed his wounds. Or lack thereof. 'Useful' he thought to himself, walking back to his cell, where he hoped to get the meeting with his cell mate over with.
Aerin awakes to see that his cell is open and a guard shouting at him "Wake up you useless scum, time for you to get to the commons!" the loudmouth guard had another behind him with a remote, it probably held the trigger for his implant. Aerin groggily gets up and shuffles to the guards with his hands up showing them that he has nothing on him. they had found his utensil droid and taken it just a day before, at least that is what Aerin guessed at, the one who had taken it had gotten a surprise fork through his hand, the droid had been a trap. Aerin keeps shuffling forward as the two guards hold weapons on him, the one with the remote a blaster pistol and the one who had shouted a blaster rifle. Yet Aerin was calm, almost happy, he was going into the general population, maybe to find some allies, but mostly he was glad that he'd have someone to talk to. Aerin looked back at the two guards as they led him to Block A...
Location: Block A
Equipment: Prisoner Jumpsuit, socks
... and as soon as they made it to general pop and the guards let him loose Aerin bumps into a certain Trando that Joran had dealt with, the Trando looks at the guards and they shrug, "Welcome the new meat, slime, get him acquainted with general pop." the guards leave Aerin in the clutches of Gulka the slaver. Gulka looks down at the human and hisses "New meat, Death here is Gulka." Aerin looks at the lizard man understanding what he meant after a few seconds "H-hello Gulka... c-could you not kill me just yet? I-I-" Gulka just chuckle-hisses "Go, hunt isss good, you sssshall fight in C sssoon"
Location: Cell Block A, Solitrary confinement.
Equipment: Jumpsuit,socks,Tusken Mask.
Subject Z-1999 was sweating in his sleep. He was rocking back,and forth as another round of nightmares plagued him. He had been suffering these for days now. He didn't even know who he was in his dark cell,he couldn't even see a thing as their was no light source except when the door was open. He didn't even know if he was Jakkor Kess,or Subject Z-1999 as he felt such sanity that he did have in this chithole was slowly draining away. The nightmares he often suffered were that of Order 66,or worse the grueling experimentation he endured weeks ago.
In the days following the experimentation Jakkor felt as if his muscles were completely numb. At times he could barely stand,or move any of his limbs,but he felt his connection to the force had intesified thanks to the new drug known as IEV-12 . Within days besides suffering in his sleep,and slowly losing his sanity in the darkness of his cell,he had begun training his new body so he could become stronger,and faster often doing various exercises dayly such as,push ups,sit ups,and running small laps around his cell.prepairing for the day when he would have his revenge on the sons of murglaks who did this to him.
One day when he was suffering horrible nightmares,and went about his usual routine, [member="Cathul Thuku"] the new shrink came in,and Subject Z-1999 was the first subject she had come to see. She excused the guards to wait outside the cell as she entered inside the dark room,of course the guards protested at first,but she told them that she would be fine so they let her in without anymore complaints.
Jakkor was rocking back,and forth talking to himself of course like all medical personel she had touched him to make sure he was alright.
The moment she touched him his eyes snapped open underneath his mask,and they were blazing yellow. When he turned over he saw a Twi'lek,and from the looks of it was dressed as a doctor. He immediately thought that she was going to experiment,and torture him,and Jakkor would make them pay by killing his first victim.
He let out a loud,and gutteral Tusken yell,and punched her in the right cheek hard while getting up as quick as he could to slam her into the wall. Moving to grab her throat,and try to choke the life out of her,he shouts to her.
"You! You think you can kriffing get the drop on me while I was sleeping eh Schutta. Well listen here you sick son of a Murglak! I'm going to karking strangle you nice,and slow! Then when you can't breathe anymore,I'll leave you alone in this hellhole,and kill everybody on this force forsaken place does that sound good to you eh Schutta!" He smirked underneath his mask,as his eyes were gazing right through hers beneath the red lenses.
(OOC: I'm posting now since Sedge has been thrown out into an escape pod)
Location:Cell Block A, visiting prisoners in Solitary confinement. Equipment: Socks, Jumpsuit, lightsaber
Cathul was under the effect of a Force Choke, having somehow learned how to use a Force Choke under the effects of the drug. But as he was a little inexperienced with the Force Choke, he had to close in on Cathul to actually use the spell. Using the Force was his to do. But she knew better than to use Force-alcohol: if anything, being drunk was a daunting multiplier for aggressivity. What she had to do was to restrain the prisoner or at least provide him another punching bag. Bruised and battered, she got nearly incapacitated by the numerous attempts [member="Jakkor Kess"] did at hitting her. But there was one thing that he did not do that would have nevertheless resulted in her being incapacitated: grabbing her lekku. But amid a sea of pain, screams and whatnot, Cathul finally manages to regain her composure
"Jakkor, eh, I mean, Subject Z-1999 has used a Force-choke on me: the drug made him more aggressive and makes him lean closer to the dark side. Administer the sedatives!" she warned over comm in a raspy voice from all these bruises. "I will, from this point onward, refer to select prisoners by their names"
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Thus far this drug is novel. We have no idea whatsoever about its interactions with other chemotherapies. We'll never know if we don't do something"
The select prisoners being, well, those who would forge their destinies with the experimentation as a backdrop. But administering the sedatives proved to be troublesome as he attempts to Force-choke the security guards that were assigned to Cathul for accompanying her into the cell and forced the wardens to assign a new security detail to her after the fact, while these two security guards had trouble with containing Jakkor. They were screaming and kicking, wondering whether sedatives actually will work. In the meantime, she slips back into her usual office, with that new security detail, where she has another patient to look after. One [member="Joran Del-Finn"] was already waiting for her so that he can get an evaluation.
"Forgive me for the delay, I had a troublesome patient, Jakkor I think was his name. He just used a Force-choke on me due to the effects of the medication"
Location: Cell Block B
Equipment: Prisoner's Jump Suit
I woke with a start, red eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness. I blinked the weariness out of my eyes as I looked around, pondering what could have woken me up. There was this strange itch in the back of my head that I could not quite place. I dimly remembered it being the object of my concern as I waded through half-consciousness to the fully awakened state I was in now.
I heard in the distance a quick yet still un-rushed march of steps coming towards my cell. The itch grew in intensity. What could it be!? It was rather annoying, occupying most of my cohesive thoughts. I leaned back against the wall of my cell, resigned to yet another show of perfectly uniformed prison guards marching by my cell.
And then it hit me.
I leaped to my feet as everything came back to me at once, my neighbor being dragged out of his cell, the massive droids that the guards brought as an escort.
And the plan. Most importantly, the plan. Oh, how badly I needed it to work.
The steps came nearer, and now I could hear the low metallic whine of the droids accompanying the prison guards on their march down the hallway. I prepared myself for intense concentration.
I began to use my natural Defel ability to diffract light around myself. Thankfully, the low light in my cell made it easier, but lacking recent practice it was still a struggle. The light bent until I became invisible in most light spectrums. The humans, and most other species, wouldn't be able to see me. It would be a problem if they could see in the UV spectrum of light, however.
Now fully invisible, I propped myself up against the wall of my cell in the darkest corner I could find, as insurance in case my concentration slipped and I lost my invisibility. I would still be cloaked in shadows and my fur would blend in, appearing as black as night in all light spectrums, except in UV. Then I would be a dark and gleaming midnight blue, which would show up easily in the UV spectrum no matter where I hid in the cell.
I prepared myself to make a mad dash for the hallway and take a left turn as I heard the steady clank of shoes marching in time with a nice baritone accompaniment of whirring mechanical motors, which sounded like the symphony of my doom.
The sensation was both auditory and visual. The loud thunk of a switch being thrown worked in symphony with the numerous bright lights that invaded his sleep and pulled him kicking into reality. Men in black with riot shields and net guns rushed into the cell and surrounded Rocu's bunk. Rocu hissed and whirled into a crouching position. He always remained visciously aloof from their plans. It was never his desire to go to the Death Floor and eviscirate his enemies for a temporary promise of peace and seclusion.
One of the armored men spoke through his mask, saying,
"You stink, monster. You're getting floor time to shower, stretch your legs, flex your tail, whatever, while the other inmates are sleeping. This is the first time we've ever let an inmate have such a privilege, so be nice and don't muck it up. Do you understand me, creep?"
"Yessss..." hissed Rocu. With that, the guards parted right and Rocu went left out of the open door, crawling on all fours. What fun.
The guards were trying to remain low key, but none of them fooled Rocu. He knew that he was being watched intently. They were likely looking for any reason to take away this privilege for good. Well, he was off the stims, so he wasn't going to give them a reason. The first thing that attracted his attention was all of the windows that peered directly into the darkened rooms of the prison inmates. There was only one light left on in this mess hall/rec hall. Enough light for the guards to keep a sight on Rocu, but not enough to disturb the sleeping prisoners.
He went to each of the windows, put his hands on the glass and peered inside each of the cells. Most of them were filled with sleeping prisoners who didn't notice the red-eyed nightmare, but others weren't yet asleep. Those ones who looked up and spotted Rocu had the most entertaining reactions. Their antics caused him to laugh, which made it appear as though he was baring his fangs. This caused an even more fearful reaction, which caused him to laugh even more. The transparisteel between them prevented the inmates from hearing Rocu's laughter. Eventually, Rocu resorted to showering, poking around the rec hall and finally resigning himself to making his way back to his cell. He went to sleep satisfied.
The lights aren't supposed to be turning on like that!? It's morning!! What's going on? These were the thoughts that ran through Rocu's mind. His door had slid open and he spotted something hanging from the wall next to the door. They looked like a pair of dark, aviator goggles. The light was hurting his eyes and the pain was only starting to grow. He cast a hand over his eyes and peeked through the slits of his fingers as he manuevered over to those goggles. Upon reaching them, he reached up, pulled them down and slipped them over his face. The world darkened, but it was perfect.
He poked his head outside the door and saw the back of one of the inmates before he turned right and disappeared around the corner.
They've got to be crazy, letting me out like this thought Rocu. He crawled on all fours down the hall way, his tail swishing from side to side. Eventually, he turned right, then left and he stopped in the doorway leading into the Mess-Rec Hall. Voices died down and all eyes turned, one after the other, to stare at the stranger in the doorway. Rocu, on all fours, tiltled his head and swished his deadly tail playfully from side to side as he stared back at everyone in the room. A broad smile touched his lips, revealing his fangs.
She could hear his screams.
She tried to reach him but her limbs failed to penetrate the curtains of blackness which surrounded her. Jynx's feet struggled moving through, her own screams caught in her throat. She looked down towards her hands: were they always this small - as they were when she was young. She tried to scream, to kick, to punch. Yet no body part would move. These emotions boiled under her skin and she felt the heat, the frustration build.
Was she waking from this dark dream? It almost felt like she was going to sleep again. All her limbs expanded to the right size and form to which she was familiar and her body felt swept away by the softness upon which she lay. With each sense becoming more acute she felt more relieved. Now, accompanying touch she was almost blinded by the light, her eyes rejoicing at any form of external stimulation. So she lay there staring at the light and taking in everything around her, the bed upon which she lay and the room where she was.
Jynx came to. The blinding light from earlier was now dim and the infinite softness of the bed where she lay was only a step away from being made of wood. Should she had stayed in that dream and escape this reality?
------------------------------------------------
It's a normal cell. A shower and clean toilet. A less than comfortable bed. And a table where she would presumably eat. And most importantly she couldn't hear the screams anymore. She turned over in bed in an attempt to sleep again lest the light of this silent moment grow dim and allow the voices of dear memories take hold.
- Location: Two Days from Nocrassol Orbit, Nocrassal System, End of Croke Reach Sector, Unknown Region
- Time: 22:32:55
- Destination: The City of Malia, Nocrassol
Plot Reminder:
The Herald said:
You are on the Purgatory, a massive prison transport that operates on the underground; every year, it departs into the galaxy and returns filled with heroes gathered from across all known space - both alive and dead. Some of you are here as prisoners, others as personnel, perhaps security or otherwise, all unknowingly serving a malevolent purpose. Your goal is simple: survive the next three days. Where you begin is up to you, so is where you go; some of you may choose to play along with the system, others might attempt to escape. Regardless, beware, the odds are stacked against you; something greater has been set in motion here and the ultimate outcome could weigh heavily on the very decisions you decide to make.
We or should I say, most of us are still here. I understand it's been a grueling experience waiting for everyone to post, but hopefully the new changes will resolve that problem. I'd like to take the time and just say, "GREAT JOB!" All of you have done excellent, the posts were enjoyable to read. While I've stated this before I'd like to reiterate it again, I will try my absolute best to try and portray the characters that [member="Jansal Corego"] has brought us. While on the subject I think we all should take a step back and hope that everything going on with our valiant storyteller, [member="Jansal Corego"] is looking up. I hope he returns sooner rather than later.
With that out of the way I would like to go over a few things before we continue.
- First thing, first. As we have previously been told in the initial starting post, EVERYONE, Must list, Location and Gear in every post. I can not stress this enough, it was a tedious amount of work just to make tiny notes of where most of you were by the second round of posts that came through, this isn't to say that I won't do it again, just I would prefer this to be a steady thing throughout the remainder of the the Thread. Another thing, if you are near another PC WRITER, Please list list them as (Nearby or (Prisoners/Allies/Enemies NearbyAny of those four options will do. Also if you would like your character moved from one cell block to another, please be more elaborate with your post. It's very hard to interact with someone that goes from Cell A, and magically pops up in a new area, without indication.
- Second, if you could, please toss a pm or a OOC reminder to [member="The Loremaster"], if you want a specific interaction to be done with any of the DM NPC's. This is only if you are worried you didn't get the message across in your post. While I would prefer less OOC in the thread, if you must leave a tiny note like [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] did in his previous post.
- Third, and definitely not least, time. What I'm referring to by 'Time' is the amount of time someone has before you have to post. Everyone has a life, I understand that, hell, why do you think it took so long to make this post? Real Life HAPPENS. Due to this, I will give every person a 48 hour time stamp, from the time the last person posted before them. If you do not post within the allotted time you will be moved to the bottom of the que, no questions. (This may sound rude, but many of us would love to make this continue forward. However, if this is too strict, and you would like to voice your opinions please pm me, or get as many of those participating that dislike the time restriction and announce it in the OOC thread. I am only human I make mistakes too.
Posting Order, which I made based on location. I think two rounds of full posting orders for each area should give a nice flow to the thread, constant RP at its finest. Because of this, please elaborate a change in location, that way we can move you to a different location for a new posting order later on. Also, I understand many of you can't post at certain times and that's perfectly fine, if you have a problem with the listed posting order below, please pm me with a reasonable position change, thank you.
PLEASE TAG THE PERSON THAT POSTS AFTER YOU!
Posting Order
Cell Block A: [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] [member="Joran Del-Finn"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Silas Miu"] [member="Aerin The Lost"]
Regarding DM Interactions, I will post sooner than the second round of posting if necessary for particular characters. So we can reach the second round of posting for each cell block's posting order, if this is confusing, pm me.
Side Note, I just want everyone to know that these are a few changes to the rules, due to our structure. This by no means, gives you an excuse to not follow rules previously established by [member="Jansal Corego"], unless otherwise stated here. If you haven't read them already I urge you to do so. Like Jansal, I will deal with any unfortunate forthcoming. This means, Drama, NPC Interactions, Posting Order, ect...
Lastly, Have Fun! Hope you like what I worked on below. Tried to get it done in a timely manner, so without further ado....
The droids buckled upright, the churning of their inner mechanisms clinking as they turned the corner. The rustic smell of old pipes above whistled as steam released like it always had. The large metal door stopped the three combat droids in their tracks. The automated cameras above turned to look at the three clueless droids, guns held tightly to their chest. The only thing that seemed to really keep the droids at bay, from placing their metal fingers on the pad in front of them, were two large turrets. The barrels were thick, made of the finest materials the Purgatory Project could find. Regardless, Lt. Vodnik ignored the company, the bright screens in front of him showed several patients undergoing operations. Lt. Vodnik was never one to indulge in the likeness to his own cell block, an unfortunate circumstance of his own. The loud banging from one of the droids slammed into his durasteel door, the resounding thrum of it made him annoyed. Hoping they would leave, the knocks continued. Grunting, Vodnik stood up in a furious manner, the large cranium revealing itself as he stepped into the light from above.
"What is it?" Lt. Vodnik asked, pressing the tiny button with his lengthy finger. His voice boomed from the two speakers on the outside of his safely armored domain.
"We have specific orders from Captain Llor Bel, he wants his report. We are here to escort you to him, Mister Vodnik." Said the droid, his computerized voice slipping through the other end of the intercom.
"Very Well." Lt. Vodnik replied.
It had been an hour since the nightmarish cell block he controlled was locked down. It was a strict routine, nothing came in or out after nine o' clock rolled around, unless of course the captain demanded his Lieutenants.
Lt. Vodnik grabbed his log pad, a stiffening grin reaching his face. His hardened jaw clicking as it formed. The captain won't be happy bout this. Vodnik thought to himself as he looked down at the log. The number of the deceased had risen, a statistic that made him disgusted, not because of the lives that were lost, but because he hadn't the strength to save them. They were rats, all of them, a disease to an already fragile galaxy.
The door opened, as the droids nodded at the Siniteen lieutenant.
"Right this way..." The droid said, turning with his subordinates in a leisured manner.
Lt. Vodnik followed, his door shutt as his turrets scanned the area for any intruders. He slipped into the darkened depths of the Purgatory's ominous clutches.
She wouldn't have it, not today, not ever. The prisoner before her yelped as she stuck the edge of the blade into his shoulder. Licking her lips, Lt. Authellia shoved another into the parallel shoulder of the disgruntled brute who tried to escape, again. Nodding to her guards, they scooped him up onto his feet. Authellia turned away, looking over the populated cell block below, that she, herself; saw as her kingdom. Her rule was absolute, nothing and no one, not even Captian Llor Bel seemed to intervene when she took the reigns of her cell block. The prisoners knew she was a demon beyond comparison to the other Lieutenants. Meeting her on unruly terms meant your demise, unless Authellia gained something from their survival. The Purgatory was less of ship and more of a nation, filled with Authellia's acclimated customs.
The steel rusty pipe was thick and held weight, the small curve at the end, perfect for bashing. The Zabrak female examined it for a moment and smiled. She turned to look at the helpless prisoner, who now continued to bleed on her floor. It was messy, but necessary.
"Why did you do it?" Authellia asked.
"I...I'm sorry...I...I" The prisoner was cut off.
"Victor, come on, tell me why you let him do it. If you tell me I'll let you have two free cell-walks. Dave and Crul would love to see you again. What do you say?"
"I can't they'll kill me! Don't you get it? I'm already dead if you release me back in there with those wolves!" Victor screamed, saliva spewing from his mouth as he tried to shake free from the guards that held him firmly.
No hesitation, the swift motion of the metal pipe connected. Victor's cheekbone crushed in seconds, teeth falling to the ground below. The waterfall of blood that came after made Authellia even more angry. The Zabrak swung again, this time from the other side. A large 'pop' frightening both guards as Victor's head caved in, his skull crushed from the impact. Letting go of Victor's body, the guards stepped back, standing straight and waiting for their orders. Victor's body slammed into the floor with a thud, his eyes swallowed into the back of his skull, death greeting him as the fine red liquid continued to spill outward.
Lt. Authellia, was having a bad day. Some of the new lab rats had taken an unlikely turn. This was something that needed to be stopped, abruptly; if possible. She put the pipe back down onto the metal cart, filled with tools designed for torture. She no longer needed them, at least not yet. The tiny shuffling of feet became apparent, metal clinks and clacks following behind.
"Lt. Authellia! We have a situation. Prisoner one-one-nine has...well come take a look!" The guard shouted sternly.
"Great." Authellia looked to her personal guards that were accessory to the dead body before them. "I want this cleaned up when I get back. I don't care how."
Leaving she proceeded down into the long corridor of the cell block, the prisoners hooting and hollering, as if they would ever have a chance. Turning again she followed the rushed guard in front of her. The four cells at the very end had little light, an electrical problem that needed to be fixed. The motion of the cameras watched them closely as the guard stopped, and pointed to the prisoner. The cell torn to shreds, glass filling the area. Authellia leaned forward, the cold steel bars were bent beyond repair.
"Well. What do we have here?" Authellia taunted, her small horns protruding from the tops of her head.
Her skin was hard to make out in the darkened corridor of the sectioned off cell. The light that hung overhead blinked, small flashes of the illuminating fixture showed her dull pink skin, black markings filling her face. The guard stepped out of place for only a moment and handed her a tiny clip board, a piece of parchment with the prisoners records staring back at her. Authellia's eyes dimmed, the experiments were getting out of hand, which meant success for the future.
"Nate...Simple, tell me. Do we not feed you? Allow you to shower, walk among the cell-block when requested. I assure you, we can make you much less comfortable. These walls, Nate." She looked around, observing the destruction of her ironclad fortress. "These walls are my home. Yet, you destroy them?"
Authellia smiled, the prisoner was an interesting spectacle. The ability to regenerate at such a pace was incredible. All in all, things had to get fixed, if not disposed of. Authellia looked away, another group of guards walking in from her heavily fortified bridge.
"Authellia, Captain Llor Bel wishes to see you at once." A tall guard said, accompanied by a few droids and Lt. Vodnik. She couldn't stand Vodnik and the fact that he still had access to other areas of the ship annoyed her. She should have had full control of all blocks, but that was for another time. Vodnik shook his head, the sight of Nate's cell pieced it all together. The surgery on him had worked.
"Can you not see that I have him to take care of. Tell the Captain, that I will not be joining them. If it's a routine report he wants, ask my personal guards upstairs to give you my log pad. Are we done here?" Authellia said.
The guard complied, arguing would have meant death. Vodnik turned away, as they left the Zabrak to deal with the problems of her block.
Llor Bel, isn't going to like it, but it will have to do. For now, [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] you're all mine....
Llor Bel sat, dignified; tapping his fingers on the console terminal. The patience he had was unparalleled, even in times of dire situations. Calm and collected he never grew nervous, unless Talron's dark presence was about. He had to make sure his lieutenants were going to comply with his plans. Talron had ordered it. Confused about the ulterior motive behind Talron's words from before made him squirm. Nothing was going to stop the effectiveness of his crew, not even the gifted on board that survived the inhumane surgeries that were being administered. Cracking his fingers the doors to his control room, opened. Spinning around in his chair he stood, stepping down from the platform above.
He scanned the area, one Lieutenant standing before him.
"What is the meaning of this?" Llor Bell asked, his voice holding true to his persona.
"Sir, we..uh." The guard was hesitant to speak, losing his focus as Lt. Vodnik squeezed between the droids and stepped forward, his dark brown skin revealing his oddly shaped head.
"What he means to say, Captain. Is that Lieutenant Authellia is preoccupied with quite a troubling outcome, you see one of the prisoners-" Vodnik was interrupted.
"Did I ask for your excuses Lieutenant!?" Llor Bel shouted.
"No, sir, I was only trying to keep you up to date, forgive me for speaking out of place. The reports from cell block B. I think you'll find them, disappointing."
"Hmm." Captain Llor Bel snatched the log from the guard that approached, before turning away the guard held out another. "Authellia's log, I presume?"
"Yes...yes sir." The guard stated.
"And Lieutenant Camimur?"
"He wasn't in his quarters, sir."
"Leave us." Llor Bel commanded, as the guards and droid quickly made their way out of the control room. Lt. Vodnik the only one standing before him.
Llor Bel wasn't too pleased. This wasn't anything new, his lieutenants always had a knack for disobedience. It wasn't something, as a captain, that made him feel discarded. The Purgatory held more promise than most. Even with it's shady existence and corrupted companies that backed them, Llor Bel was its stout leader. From the looks of it, however, his leadership meant little to the others. Those that were around him on his daily routine of early morning bridge inspections, knew him to be a cold individual. It wasn't something that could be projected in light of his softness as of late, but clearly his underlings needed to be reminded. Unfortunately, it would have to wait. There were far more important matters at hand.
His tired eyes observed the logs. His face became steel as he stepped down onto the same floor that Lt. Vodnik waited patiently on. Tossing the pad to Vodnik his nimble fingers slid through the air.
"One-Hundred and Eighty-Eight. Dead. What of the corpses Lt. Vodnik? Have they been disposed of?"
"Yes, Captain Bel. I've released the last batch of deceased to the hatch below, they'll be dumped into space shortly. If I may, I think we should slow the progress of our operations, sir. We have little time to prepare the new specimens, causing more complications in turn." Vodnik was solid in his assessment, only one thing stood out. Vodnik's willingness to cause less pain to the vermin on board.
"Lt. Vodnik, I will not be told how to administer the practices of our Lord. These were his specific instructions. That will be the last of your complaints on the matter. Where are we at, with those selected?" Asked Llor, his cloak flicked backwards by one of his arms.
"Everything seems to be coming along, in fact, Authellia is dealing with one of them as we speak. Should I order anything further to the doctors in my cell block?" Vodnik said, a frown reaching his face.
"Yes." Llor Bel was quick with his raspy response. The eyes of a devil peering back at Vodnik. "More blood, means more sacrifice. Administer the new batch, I want to see more successes than failures. Am I understood, Lt. Vodnik?"
Llor Bel was vicious in his order. The only thing it left him with was a nod from his curious lieutenant. Vodnik was a different breed than the rest. A Siniteen with oddly focused intentions. Sympathy was a weakness, not a strength. Captain Llor Bel watched as the lieutenant made his way to the exit.
"One more thing, make contact with Nocrassol. We are two days out, everything must go as planned."
Vodnik stuttered for what seemed like a minute, his body freezing at the thought of what he truly was doing. It was sickening, worse he had to obey. The grumble of the Purgatory shook him out of it, as he proceeded into the bowels of the vessels haunting screams.
The cheers were loud, roaring like a fire in the middle of a darkened filth. They were more than monsters, destructive was a fine word to express their ability to tear each other apart. The cynical experiments that were taking place in cell block B, surely were working. What or who you were, had no significance. Here, warriors were the only breed that mattered. Fighting was the extension of the soul, as far as Lt. Camimur was concerned. Nothing mattered except the success of the strenuous activities that took place in his underworld. He was the king of filth, hearty in the midst of battle. Lt. Camimur wasn't one to lose control, having it; meant power. There was a firm and well-handled way about him. He stood tall, taller than the rest, even at his short height. His silver eyes watched, as the men tore each other apart below.
His outfit was traditional, from his Echani background. Grey and cut at the shoulders was his vest, a tiny metal badge representing his efforts in battle. Lt. Camimur, enjoyed lighter clothes, refusing to use utility belts, wrapped a red Echani cloth around his waist. Below that, Camimur wore grey pants, loose and ending just before his ankles. His feet were dressed with a softer feel, free of boots. His feet were nestled comfortably in Liwari shoes.
CRUNCH!
The sound of broken bones rippled into the air as a smile reached Lt. Camimur. Nothing but sweet music to his ears. Another loud crack, only this time, blood became part of the brawl. The other heathens surrounding the bountiful fight cried out with chants. It was funny how something so simple, was so entertaining. The blood splattered across the walls, the hissing sound of the pipes above reminding them all exactly where they were.
CRUNCH!
Another blow, clearly dislocating one of the combatant's lower jaw. Lt. Camimur knew the sound, like a key to a piano, it played out like a symphony of ballads. He saw it coming just before everything happened. The steady step forward coming from the already dismantled fighter. The swift counter that laid the attacker on his back. Finally, as Lt. Camimur closed his eyes, the sweet agonizing yell filled the room. The victor pressing his thumbs into the eye sockets of the weaker man on the ground. The roaring chants continued, a sudden new note of the ballad came to his ears, something not even Camimur expected. The attacker continued as he punctured the losers eyes, blood spitting upward and then like a boulder crashing onto his head, the victorious filth, used all his strength expunging the very existence of the poor prisoners head. It was like a balloon filled with blood, erupting into the room. Lt. Camimur's eyes widened, a evil grin reaching his lips as they curled. The show had impressed him.
"Lt. Camimur, we have a...well; a dangerous prisoner on board." Toni said.
Toni was a valiant warrior, unlike most that Camimur came across, the young man had a backbone. On top of everything else, he held a sense of honor and code. It was a rare luxury, that lieutenant wouldn't let go to waste.
"Dangerous?" Lt. Camimur asked. "Toni, take me to them, we'll need more if we want to weed out the weak."
"Right this way sir."
Lt. Camimur couldn't stand the idea of Authellia's tactics. Having to be escorted to her cell block was always a hassle. The cameras and automated turrets swayed back and forth. Teasing him as he grinned. He hadn't been to the solitary confinement area in a while, if Authelllia got wind, she would have demanded an explanation. This time, he was here doing his job. A cold metal door with a tiny slit window stationed at the end of the hall, enticed him. Toni looked at him and pointed.
"That one. Her records show promise, Sir." Toni said.
Nodding, Lt. Camimur proceeded towards the door. The smell of death reaching him as he continued. He leaned onto his toes, his liwari shoes bending as he did. The lieutenants eyes looked into the tiny window on the door, an ashen haired woman dead asleep.
"What's her name Toni?" asked Camimur.
"It says here, her name is [member=Jynx"]."
Lt. Camimur smiled, her small frame must have been a deceitful aspect, she didn't seem dangerous, but then again; Lt. Camimur wasn't exactly the scariest either. He liked the idea of taking her to the ring, maybe he would take matters into his own hands for once, after all he hadn't fought in sometime. He held out his hand towards Toni, the thick muscles of his arm showing in the well lit hall.
"The key card, I'm taking her with me."
"But sir-"
Lt. Camimur looked at Toni, his fierce silver eyes saying all they needed to. Toni quickly tossed him the card, it's metallic gleam shining as he threw it. Swiping the card the door opened, the sound of the latched cranking as a burst of air let go. Lt. Camimur yanked it wider, looming over [member="Jynx"] with a sinister smile.
They called her many things, but only one truly stuck, Talga the Iron Grip. She was a massive woman, muscular with every inch of her body, like a steel wall. She patrolled every inch of the ship, every block, every corner, except for a few places that remained out of reach. Talga was a monster among men, capable of enhanced speed and strength. Her arms were the size of small boulders and her legs popped, with veins strangling her calves. Talga refused failure and the droids that were with her had been modified for capture. This was her only job, patrolling the ship from one end to other, forcing all the prisoners that found their way out; back into the hellish stink hole they came from. It was scary to note that Talga was the very first prisoner on Purgatory, a true success as Llor Bel and the doctors have told her. She was willing to undergo the operation without a second thought. This lead her to become one of the most valuable assets to the Purgatory, throughout the years.
The ship bucked slightly, as a tiny thud was heard in the distance. Talga already had the sensor reading from before. Someone or something was lurking about. Talga was no stranger to the tricks of the force. She knew everything about stealth and Sith magic, she even studied biological sentients capable of camouflage. Talga always came equipped with a UV flashlight, capable of detecting any and all lifeforms trying to hid from her in unnatural ways. She could smell it, the stench of an escapee, her droids clinking along as they picked up speed.
Talga flashed the light down the hallway, a figure dashing across to the other side.
"Go after him!" Talga ordered her two marvelous droids, carefully speced for apprehension. "Do not let him out of this block!" Talga yelled.
She ran forward, stopping to check the other containment structures, everything seemed normal. Except one thing, an empty cell. The name was written on the pad to the cell, [member="Thresh Sken"].
"Yea, you ain't kidding, got the first batch of the new stuff. "
"Where we carting him to?"
"Some weird lady wanted to have him taken to her room, but i don't know if it's allowed." The rookie informed.
"Well, what the hell, orders are orders, right?" The officer said.
They pushed, the rattling of the squeaky wheels on the cart began to shake. The incline proving too much for the carts normal daily use. Finally, the two guards reached the top and took a quick right. The corridor was lengthy and dark, four doors on each side of it.
"Which one is it?" The rookie asked.
"That one." Said the officer, pointing to the second door on the left. They carted [member="Dax Fyre"] forward. The officer rose his hand to knock when the door swung open. A beautiful woman, in a dashing red dress greeting them.
"You asked to see this...prisoner..,Ma'am." Stuttered the officer.
Vixen sneered, nothing about the two idiots made her happy. She expected a better delivery service than the two before her. They were easily, disappointing for her taste. The strapped man on the cart however, was exactly what she ordered. Her red lips were caressed by her tongue as she waved the two guards away.
"We'll be right outside ma'am."
"Vixen." She snapped, looking at the guard with an evil look. Her red wavy hair hid her left eye as she glared. The guards hurried out, stationed outside the door.
Vixen walked to the cart, pulling it toward her. She leaned over the prisoner, looking at the incisions made. The doctors on the Purgatory were vicious. A necessary evil for what was to come. Vixen examined the young man, her fiery eyes gripped with excitement. She turned around, her hips moving back and forth in a seductive way. Lifting a small box to the air she smiled.
"[member="Dax Fyre"] do you know why they brought you to me?"
The room was bright, housing a few tables and some empty chairs that rarely saw use. The men that were here, only interested in potential victors of the games that soon would come into play. Accompanied by a unaligned force-user, they wanted to see the man everyone was talking about. A mandalorian, showing promise in the ring, according to Lt. Camimur and his lackeys. Escorting prisoners to many of the sponsors when asked, was always dangerous. Even if the prisoner managed to break free from the shackles, an immediate execution would follow. Whether from the force-user within, or the activation of neck bombs that were mainly attached for the safety of the rich and powerful. They pushed the Mandalorian forward, as they laughed.
"[member="Nicair Claden"], welcome. We would like to offer you something. A chance, rather, than wasting away on this ship. I am Dorian Kel, representing the branch of Kel's combat efficiency laboratories. Can we have a moment of your time?" Dorian asked, as if Nicair had a choice.
Some of the suits in the room chuckled at Dorian's comment, only to be silenced by a hand in the air. Dorian would not loose a wonderful prize like this, money was to be made and worlds to be conquered.
A few minutes after the meeting between Captain Llor Bel and Lt. Vodnik.
"Captain, where are you going?" Samuel asked.
"Sam, let me know if anything changes, I'm going to take care of a few things."
Llor Bel couldn't have his lieutenants doing whatever they wanted, when they wanted. It continued to bother him that after everything he had given them, they refused to show, when ordered. He couldn't remind them today, today was an important day, sponsors, company spectators, Lord Talron's orders, the list went on. Shoulders weren't enough to carry his burden. Llor Bel proceeded into the main bridge, looking over the filthy swine below. He knew exactly what transpired and when. The Purgatory was no one else's but his, it was a working machine of slight imperfections. Fortunately for the aged captain, his indulgent wandering made him a viable source of information. Like a ghost he glided about the top levels of his ship. As Llor Bel made his way to the hidden route he paused for a moment, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Where was Lt. Camimur?
Refusing to take the route he wanted, he turned heading for the ruthless section of the ship, cell block C. Like a needle prodding his mind, he wanted answers...
Location: Cell block A...for now.
Gear: nothing but a pair of black military fatigues
The voice of a female brought him out of his meditative state, his eyes flipped open, their fiery gaze meeting hers. The flickering light cast abnormal shadows across her face, giving her the appearance of a even more demonic figure. Her words rang out in his skull like sirens, but he remained unfazed, rising to his feet slowly, a tower of sinew and muscle now probably capable of tearing the woman's head off, and survive a bullet to the chest. With a few strides, he was merely a few inches from the Lt. Only about 5 inches of glass separated them. The droids watching over him all raised their weapons, the sights trained on him.
"You think the impending threat of being tortured frightens me?" His deep voice reverberated in his chest, as he mocked the woman before him. "No, and these walls, cant contain me. You cant contain me. See this?" Pointing over his shoulder, he returned his burning gaze to hers, planting a closed fist on the glass. "What do you think I could do, right now? Smash this glass? Take your head and set it on the captain's lap?"
The temperature in the room rose as his anger did, waves of heat radiating off of him and into his surroundings. He'd escaped prison before, this would be a literal walk in the park, and nothing nor anyone was going to stop him. A few more guards entered his peripheral vision, and he looked at them, listening to their conversation. As they seemingly left the Lt., he met the woman's gaze, it was filled with sadistic intent, like she craved pain.
"Just because they are scared of you, does not mean I am.... Try me, short-stack."
Carefully what you wish for, because now he was being dragged across the floor, the bruise and cut on his face healing as he was taken into the room the Lt had just killed that prisoner. Looking up dazed, all he got was the swinging hips and ass of the woman in front of him, and the droids holding him. Looking up, he yanked back on the droid, nearly making it out of the droids grasp only to get backhanded with a heavy steel fist of the droid holding his other arm. A newly broken nose and black eye. That only lasted a few seconds, as the wounds repaired themselves. Oh, that was bad, that meant everything she did to him, would just disappear with twice the pain.
[member="Joran Del-Finn"]
Dax couldn't move any of his limbs no matter how hard he tried. Even if they weren't restrained he doubted he'd be able to do so. Whatever that fraking doctor did to him had hurt...a lot...it left him drained of energy, mind cloudy, senses dulled. But at the same time he felt as if he could have torn off the restraints, killed the guards, wreak havok on his captors.
His body screamed in pain at every bump as the guards carted him to his destination...whereever that was. He could hear them speaking, but it seemed distant, despite their close proximity. "Which one is it?" "That one." A hiss as a door opened. Some more speaking. Movement. And then nothing else. A few moments nothing happened. Dax turned his head to look around at the dismal grey room. His eyes fell on a stunning woman. "Dax Fyre, do you knw why they brought you to me?" He heard her say. "Well I'm guessing not a nice candle lit dinner and relaxing music." Dax responded. Humor. He did it more for himself. It was how he kept himself moving, keep himself from remembering how fraked he was. Dax recognized her as the one from the shower hall...whoever this woman was, she was either big trouble or his only hope of survival.
Location: Cell Block B, Experimentation Room Gear: Jumpsuit Nearby: None (Cue All by Myself)
There's no escape. I'm strapped down to a table with an evil doctor hovering over me. Just like the holovids. I struggle and my movements become more and more frantic. I hate check ups.
"Relax, this won't hurt a bit. Actually I'm lying, this will be very painful. Why do you think I have the table and droids?" The doctor walks over to another table and picks up a second data pad. "Oh you're a lucky one. They've just authorized the new serum batch. I am personally very excited to see what this does." I roll my eyes to the first evil doctory comment, but I'm actually terrified. I've always been a don't do drugs guy so the thought of an experimental drug being tested on me is nightmarish.
"What does it do?" I croak through dry lips. I was never a fan of injections in the first place, good or bad. The thought of experimental drugs made it all the worse.
"Well my dear boy, it enhances you. Mostly your physical abilities. Strength, speed, reactions. It will make any man the superb fighting machine. Sadly there are still side effects, but that's what you're here for!"
The doctor walks over to the table with the needle in hand. He looms over me neck and positions the needle. He clicks something on the data pad and starts talking.
"This is test number 53. Subject is human male, number 1202. Previously injected with a small amount of Achilles and survived with little side effects. The injection will last eight hours and the subject will be put to the extreme. If successful this will be the first subject to have survived with no permanent damage from the drug."
I gulp. This doesn't sound good at all. Not good at all. I turn away from the slowly lowering needle. I feel the sting of it piercing my neck and I clench my teeth, and groan. Moments later the needle withdraws and I turn to the doctor. My neck is throbbing and there is a tingling sensation spreading throughout my body.
"Let the trials begin. Take him to the arena." The doctor says to the menacing droids as he pulls off his gloves. "Record all of it. I will be down shortly. And inform the captain the first subject is being tested. I expect the most... interesting results out of this one."
The droids grab me and pull me through the hallways. I become dizzy and my vision is blurry. I shake my head and suddenly I can see clearly. More clearly than ever before. And I feel stronger, faster, energized. I see blood marks on the walls and the roars and cheers of a distant crowd. Time to test this newfound strength. I grab the hand of the droid to my right and pull with all most strength. To my utter amazement I lift the droid off the ground. With shock in my eyes and fire in my heart I throw the droid into the nearest wall. The second droid manages to peel itself from the wall, and comes over to me. The strength is amazing! I could rip this roid apart with my bare hands! But in my focus and shock of my newfound power I forget the second droid standing behind me. It stuns me. Simple as that. I fall to the ground, and I realize the second droid has stunned me and I've gone limp. I can hardly move a muscle. This droid and it's friend drag me to the arena, despite my cries of rage and fear. I should've know the droids were built for this, should've remembered the second droid. Should've tried harder to keep my chin from bumping on the ground. Gonna have a big bruise there now.
Location: Cell block A
Equipment: Jumpsuit, lightsaber
Nearby: Joran Del-Finn
Cathul sensed that Joran, who was brought before her as a result of prison regulations, had some trouble. Negative feelings mixed one another to the extent that she couldn't determine their exact composition. Before she could get to the heart of the matter, she needed to ask the basic stuff asked of psychiatric evaluations. Better safe than sorry, I guess, she thought. After being Force-choked by a Tusken who was a beginner at using Force-choke, her ability to use the Force was, well, not anywhere near her maximum ability, so she had to fall back on more conventional methods.
"You seem, well, troubled. Do you have any desire to kill somebody? Are there other feelings of anxiety, hopelessness? Or suicidal thoughts?"
Location: Cell Block C.
Equipment: Jumpsuit,Tusken Mask,Makeshift Gaffi Stick.
Nearby:Unknown
It had been three days since he tried to kill the Twi'lek doctor. In that time he felt the dark side flow through him like liquid fire in his veins. When he tried to choke the life out of her all he concentrated on was crushing her windpipe and found the power of force choke and he was taking sadistic pleasure to see her suffer but not as much as he had. That was of course till she mustered the energy to call out his name,and for once in a long time regretted his actions and stopped for a second his eyes widening and a tear going down his cheek. Than he let go,and within seconds gas came in from the air vents and the young Tusken passed out only to face his nightmares once again.
For a while he drifted in and out of consciousness he felt his body being dragged by the legs by two guards who were speaking of how a mentally unstable Tusken was too dangerous to be in general population so he had to be transffered to Cell Block C. He than passed out once more only to wake to shouting and to be laying in the cold hard ground when he stood up shaking the grogginess from his head,and than several large humanoids approached him just because he was smaller they assumed they had the advantage. Jakkor let out a wicked grin as they tried to beat him down. He dodged the punches left and right to the face with the help of the force,and jumped behind the alpha of the pack,and tested his new force choke where he concentrated hard enough on the struggling brute only to snap his neck,and his two comrades ran. Jakkor knew he was gonna like this place.
Several days after he was transffered he claimed an empty cell for himself with better furnishings than he had in solitary,and even fashioned a Gaffi stick of the Tusken with spare metal rods,and various parts. He was currently scouting the block to see if any sleemo would pick a fight or enter his territory. Either way he would happily welcome it.
Location: Therapist's office
Equipment: Hard as...eh...uhm...jumpsuit...it's a jumpsuit
Nearby: [member="Cathul Thuku"]
The psychatrist's office was small and just as bleak as the rest of the prison. Grey and undecorated, no windows and the only things lining the walls were a couple of diplomas that sat behind the desk. The certificates had the name of Frug Norl, the previous counsler who had met a violent end.
The new counsler was to Joran's surprise a Twi'lek woman, who he could admit was not terrible to look at. Her bedside could use improvement though.
"You seem, well, troubled. Do you have any desire to kill somebody? Are there other feelings of anxiety, hopelessness? Or suicidal thoughts?" She asked him rather bluntly.
Any desire to kill somebody? Your fucking right he wanted to kill somebody, that son of a schutta Zuba was was going to die a thousand deaths as soon as Joran got out of here and Joran would be getting out of here.
"I'm as cool as they come, Love." Joran told her full of charm as he lied and avoided the questions directly. "I couldn't hurt a fly, let alone my self."
Location: Sponsor Center in Cell Block C
Equipment: Torn jumpsuit
"What'd you have in mind?" He gazed around at all the faces that looked at him, none of them met his gaze. A couple of the faces grinned at him, he was going to kill them first. He didn't have long to peruse his onlookers before his attention was snapped back to the man in charge.
"This'll be something you'll want to listen to, mandalorian."
They're after me. I know it. I held my invisibility together long enough to get out of my cell and into the hallway, but they knew. Somehow they knew. I see a UV light shine past me, and I know that I'm as good as spotlighted now. The humans have different spectrum flashlights! Why do they have to be so well prepared on this run-down ship? Undoubtably, the assault droids have me marked also.
I take the next right I see down a hallway, which leads past more prison cells. I don't stop to se if they're occupied. No time. I can hear the humans and droids running after me, shouting and causing a commotion. I don't look back. I can't afford it right now. There's a sort of pressure in my head, a needling almost, which continues to build. Almost like.... and intuition. I run past another hallway, and the pressure reaches a crescendo, and my feet take a left nintey-degree turn of their own accord. I stumble but keep running and, oddly enough, this hallway is devoid of cells. Interesting. I see a dirty sign written in Galactic Basic with "Cafeteria" written on it, and an arrow in the direction I'm pointing. How convenient. That pressure in my brain has saved me on more than one occasion, and it's almost like an intuition. I can't explain it. It just... happens.
I can still hear the sounds of commotion behind me, but I'm not sure how close or far they are. My breaths are turning ragged, and my strides are becoming shorter as the sudden rush of adrenaline wears off. My invisibility has long since been gone, my concentration broken, focusing instead on keeping one foot moving in front of the other. My only hope now is to get lost in the cafeteria, now completely visible in the light of the hallways. I see a large room up ahead, the doorway growing bigger and with brighter light pouring out of it. The only question being if I can make it in time to lose my pursuers...
(Do I need to tag someone? I'm the last in Cell Block B)
Location: Cell Block C
Equipment: Metal Pipe
Nearby: Dunno :/
The water was up to her ankles slowly draining her body heat away. Jynx was moving in rapidly wetter and heavier clothes. Still, she was able to move quickly through the crowd of fists, kicks and wrestling bodies with metal pipe in hand. She moved her body with rapid agility, her entire bodyweight behind that metal pipe. It crushed windpipes and cracked skulls. One could form a rhythm if the hollow sound of her pipe was isolated from the chaotic screaming and sound of dropping bodies.
The dead bodies were outnumbering those sloshing in the water until there was only one other source of sound aside Jynx. One approached, pipe in hand, and breath heavy like she. His eyes were calculating, seemingly uncharacteristic on his body that which seemed to fit a powerlifter. He took small steps, standing in a narrow stance reducing his large target. Jynx was being prodded with small strikes, uncommitted though quick - he was trying to gauge her and get her in his rhythm. Jynx moved to his rhythm, making him comfortable to predict her facade - trying to catch her off guard.
The large man moved swiftly from his standstill, going for a side-wards swipe with that pipe and huge arm behind it. Jynx moved her torso back seemingly as she did before and her opponent responded with a thrust halfway through the swipe. He predicted her to dodge at this time, still moving the same way and running into his strike. The facade dropped: her 'dodge' rapidly shifted into a lower position. Jynx dropped her weight and moved forward driving the pipe into his stomach causing him to drop his pipe before bringing it up to smash into his chin. He didn't go down. The big man moved backwards towards the wall with both arms up covering his body.
Jynx wasn't playing defence this time. Her opponent was weakened, dazed and she would take advantage of that. She began to attack his knees, upon him stepped back to avoid the strike, she would follow with a stronger kick onto his guard and bringing his back to the wall. She came in for a hook around the frontward guard with the man moving his arm to block it. And her entire body moved in order for her punch to snake underneath his block into an uppercut knocking his head against the wall. He was slowing, unable to respond quickly enough to strikes coming from the sides and from the front once his hands moved to defend the former. And each strike caused his head to bang into the wall. Jynx kept on beating at this fleshy punching bag until the final kick crushed his head against the wall and the man finally crumpled onto the water.
Jynx was tired,her body ached and now that the adrenaline was gone she could feel how numb her muscles were with the cold of the water seeping into the bone. How did I even get here...
She tried to remember, and then recalled it. It all started with a smile. Of that figure peering through the door of her cell awaiting every moment that was to occur afterwards.
or (Prisoners/Allies/Enemies Nearby
