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Post by Faye Callen on Dec 28, 2009 20:43:15 GMT -5
The first thing that registered in Faye’s brain as she opened her eyes was the dull throbbing in her head. She lifted a hand and felt around the source of the throbbing. Her hand connected with something crusty and when she lowered her hand, it had specs of her green tinted blood on it. She stood wobbling for a second as a wave of dizziness passed over her. She couldn’t remember what happened and she didn’t recognize where she was. Faye held the wall for support and made her way to the small sink. The water was freezing but she splashed some onto her face. She stood bent over the sink letting the water drip off it. She squeezed her eyes shut until she felt the world stop spinning.
When she looked around this time it was to take in her surroundings. Nothing was like her cell and it was then she remembered what had happened. The warden, the men in black armor, and her best friend. "Pepper!" She looked around the small cell to see that she was alone. She went to the cell door and placed a hand on it. It was cold to the touch and she pushed it open. She had to shield her eyes from the sudden sunlight. 'Where am I?' When her eyes adjusted, she frantically looked around. There was no sign of the men who had taken her from prison; in fact, there was no sign of the prison at all.
So many questions started forming and she stopped for a second to try and focus. Getting this worked up would just give her a headache and not solve anything. They had to have taken her somewhere, the question was where. She turned around to look at the building she had just come out of. The tall concrete building towered over her. She pushed the door to her cell closed mentally remembering where it was in case she was here for more than a day. She needed to find someone, anyone who could explain where she was and possibly why she was here. |
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Post by Bella Dona on Dec 30, 2009 22:24:45 GMT -5
Zillah opened her eyes she wasn’t sure where she was or why she was there all she knew was that the blood on her face was dry which meant it had to have been awhile since she lost consciousness. She looked around before sitting up to make sure of one thing, that she was alone. After a few seconds of examining her surroundings a little better she stood and walked over to the little sink. She splashed her face with water and checked to make sure that her lip piercing was still in. She smiled as she realized it was. She watched the bloody water drain down the sink, she was so confused now. That feeling, when the knife and he kicked me. She thought staring at the blood. Another word popped into her head and she couldn’t remember where she had heard it but she was compelled to say it aloud. “Bella Dona” Her eyes widened “That guard!” She whispered suddenly remembering. She sighed as she looked around, “So Zillah, your Bella Dona now?” She whispered as she saw a door and walked over to it, “And you talk to yourself. Oh great.” She pushed on the door and it opened, she looked around outside to see what she could. It was very bright and she could hardly see anything but she didn’t care it was better than the little room. She shut the door behind her and looked around hoping she would be able to remember where it was.
She turned around and looked around the first thing she noticed was another person, Maybe they can help. She thought and walked towards them, “Hey, can you…” She stopped the girl seemed confused to, Crap you need help and of course meet the other person who doesn’t know what’s going on. She thought. She shook her head, best to at least find someone that you can figure things out with beside who knows how much she knows. She thought with a shrug and she walked over to the girl, “Hey, I don’t know if you can, but think you can explain anything of what’s going on?” She asked with a fake smile.
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Post by Lucian Verdus on Dec 31, 2009 10:20:01 GMT -5
The Inquisitor caste servitor was not designed to be a companion to Lucian, nor was it necessarily designed to oversee complicated judgments. The central function of the Inquisitor caste was diplomacy, interrogation coming afterward. Now that new entities had been detected, the Inquisitor was ordered to test out his abilities. He approached them clearly, making it very clear no subterfuge was being attempted, with metallic arms held at his sides. He still looked somewhat threatening, he needed an unnerving appearance for interrogation protocols, but acting friendly was a start. In spite of the jawless skull for a head and glowing red visual receptors nestled in the back of the eysockets, the Inquisitor was confident in his diplomatic potential.
As soon as it got close enough to them to be heard at a converszational tone, the synthesized male voice of the servitor came from somewhere in its skull. The voice itself was more human than that of most servitors, who were relegated to metallic vibration, and sounded a bit like one would expect the typical sci-fi robot to sound; human, but with a robotic tinge to the sound of the voice. "Greeting: I bid you welcome to the mutant containment compound, here referred to as "Freakopolis." I am Inquisition and Diplomatic Negotiation Servitor Model 001. My master, the Progenitor, refers to me as the Inquisitor, and it is simpler for your kind to do the same.
"Statement: Unless you have already been met by others, I am going to go ahead and assume that you know very little of your predicament. Only that you are a mutant, and now that you are a caged mutant. This is understandable. Explanation: It is my duty to inform you that you are officially trapped here. Warning: I am not a work of the guards, and any harm on me will rouse the ire of both the Progenitor and our unofficial police force, also built by the Progenitor. Further explanation: This compound was made to ensure that meatb- people such as yourselves are kept away from society at large and are unable to harm them. Not many people are very happy with this, but if you seek to join the rebellion you will find that the leader is... murderous.
"The dreamers are a useless group of in-denial mutants who would rather play pretend, as children do, than take a proactive role in solving the problem at hand. They are two ends of a very wide spectrum. I myself am officially a part of the protectors, the third faction, which the Progenitor has a large hand in leading. The laws are his own, and the enforcers are his own. It is best that you know now that there are only so many mutants that are going to help you, and even fewer unless you help yourself, first. Deliberation: Unless you want to sit around and be deluded with the dreamers, it is a wise choice to find some way to make yourself useful."
The inquisitor stopped, looking over the two. "Statement: I do not know either of you, nor what it is you plan to do with yourselves, but know that it may be wise to get into a positive light with the Progenitor. Ask the rebellion leader yourself, if you can get an answer. He would be dead, right now, were it not for the Progenitor himself." Again, he stopped, now awating a response. There were a few, altogether likely responses, but he was not about to make assumptions. He partially prepared some responses for certain scenarios, but did not want to invest all of his possible dialogue on something that may not occur. "Note: I am a direct line to the Progenitor himself, as all servitors are. Keep this in mind when you speak."
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Post by Bella Dona on Jan 2, 2010 0:55:54 GMT -5
Zillah looked over as another, person, arrived. "Nice to meet you too," She said slightly sarcastically. "My name is Zillah, but I was called Bella Dona when I was brought here." She said unsure if that needed to be stated or not. She took a second to reflect on everything he said, Mutant? She thought, that word frightened her. She had never been called a mutant before. Different yes, a freak probably but Mutant never. She shook her head to bring her back to the people around her and the conversation, or what she was calling a conversation.
"So, what your saying is we are in a prison with gangs, pretty much?" She asked remembering the lady that pierced her lip talking about how her husband had been in jail and joined a gang. Didn't he die? "And the protectors help the new people, the rebellion tries to get out and the dreamers are in denial?" Now she was more talking to herself than to the others making sure she had caught everything the Inquisitor had told her.
So do you want to get out? Be in denial? Or be helpful? She thought as she decided she had everything right. This will be the hard part.
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