Maybe She'll Hear it [open]

[August]

It was the first time he had left his cell in the week that he had been here. The only thing more heart breaking about being captured was the fact that he had loved ones on the outside. Who knows what the police did to them after he was captured.

He was at a total loss. He didn't know what to do with himself. He had worked so hard to gain acceptance for mutants and look where it got him. Prison. He could only hope that someone had already began to plan a breakout.

He sighed and looked up at the barrier. He wasn't sure how, but he would get out. But for now, he was stuck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his harmonica. He played with it, tossing it lightly. It was something that was precious to him, something that made life bearable.

He put it to his lips and began to play. Softly at first but gradually, he played louder. It was a song that he had made up years ago when his daughter refused to go to sleep. When he started playing, Marina knew it was time to go to bed and after she was tucked in, it switched to a lullaby.

August looked up into the fake sky. It was turning dark, just like if it were real. He was hoping that the time was the same on the outside. And maybe, she would hear it and know that he was ok.

[Sulley]

Sulley's kid was dead. The only sound that brat would hear was the chorus of angels or cries of the damned, depending on where she'd ended up. Regardless, the past wasn't on his mind.

Escape was.

He did his usual rounds. Every day since he was brought to Freakopolis eight months ago Sulley had checked the four barriers that sealed the mutants in. He would run his fngertips along the impenetrable surface. He'd sharpen his hands and take a punch.

To no avail.

Sulley wiped the back of his arm across his mouth. Sweat drenched his back and dotted his forehead. It wasn't even hot outside. On the contrary, it was rather chilly. The sky was grey and the clouds were pregnant with rain.

And then there was music. The man froze just as his hand returned to his side. The tune wasn't familiar. He couldn't even place the instrument. His head turned towards the sound. It came from just over the crest. Without hesitation Sulley topped the small hill. His eyes were quick to spot the sitting man.

It wasn't relief he felt, nor nostalgia. There was nothing.

Sulley watched and listened motionlessly.

[August]

Everyone has a different response to music. Some people sway, some hum along. Others, like August, get really into it. They move without really dancing, taping anything to release the beat. They shake and move as if possessed.

But that isn't everyone. Some people just stand there.

It's hard to tell if they like the song. More difficult, still, to know if they even hear on acknowledge that magic that music creates.

This is what the man did as he crested the hill. August was engrossed in the song, playing for his life and someone's even more important than that. He didn't want to stop, but he did upon seeing the figure. He ended the song, slowing it down until it halted.

"Hey," he said, not wanting to put him off. "I'm new here. Any chance you could tell me how to get out?"

[Sulley]

Sulley wasn't sure what he thought of what he heard--if he thought anything--but there was a brief moment of regret when the man stopped to look up and speak to him.

Shifting on his feet, he lolled his head to the side, cracking his neck loudly. A hand was there in moments to massage the ache.

"How to get out?" Sulley repeated incredulously. He wasn't sure if the man meant for him to laugh or if he was being serious. Sulley certainly didn't find it funny.

[August]

A small smile crept to August's lips. He was confused and the tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. He watched as the man cracked his neck. Although he would never admit it, August was afraid. This guy looked dangerous and there was no telling what his mutation was.

But, in true August style, he talked himself out of the fear. For all he knew, this guy could have a detachable nose or something. He certainly knew people like that from the resistance. [red]Resistance.[/red] That sparked it. And it also reminded him of his previous question. A question with a reply that was hanging in the air.

""How to get out?"

August was kind of shocked. You would think that in a place like this, that would be the first thing on everyone's mind. [red]Shake it off, man. Get some answers.[/red]

"Yeah. Point me to the exit. Has anyone tried at least?" he said, hoping that it would be met with an encouraging reply.

[Sulley]

Sulley's eyes narrowed sharply when the man persisted with his ploys. It would only make sense to assume that he, in fact, wasn't joking. That stirred Sulley in an annoying way. He spat, as if something tasted bad in his mouth.

"There are no exits. It's a big bad cage that we're all going to die in." It was obvious by his tone that he was mocking something he heard someone else say. Most Neutrals were like that. While the factions had goals, even if some of them were unrealistic, Sulley respected the people who actually continued to exist. The general Neutral mutants were hopeless and pathetic and wallowed in their own grief and self-pity.

"I've tried to get out every day for the past eight months." A sour note entered his words. He was more than a little bitter.

[August]

August watched intently as the man spat. Was that supposed to be an insult? One could never be too sure.

"There are no exits. It's a big bad cage that we're all going to die in."

August raised his eyebrows. Some outlook on the situation. He was about to comment, to somehow prove the man wrong, but he bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut.

"I've tried to get out every day for the past eight months."

The anger was there. And it was surely the perfect way to feel, the only way to motivate escape. But the reality of his statement was discouraging to say the least.

But then again, August was never really that easy to shoot down.

"Maybe you've been going at this the wrong way. Would you mind telling me what you've tried?" He lowered his voice. "I'm a part of the resistance outside. I can't imagine that we can stay here for long before things get...ugly." He pictured the headquarters downtown. So many people, mutants and humans. They had to come, and even if they didn't, August would find a way out.

[Lucian Verdus]

"Statement: Sullivan, you have been located at last. Without the ability to openly monitor the facility any longer, I have had some difficulty finding you," The familiar synthesized voice of the inquisitor preceded its approach, given the angle of its entry, but the whirring of motorized joints and the dull thud of metal feet on the grass soon confirmed the presence of Lucian's most trusted adviser. The inquisitor's bleached white skull seemed to gleam in the artificial sunlight, and the red light usually permeating from the optic inputs in the back of its eyesockets were not seen at all, its eyesockets instead entirely illuminated, revealing the two small, lens-ended rods set in the back. A little less demonic in appearance, but potentially no less disturbing.

"Explanation: Though he has not transmitted the reason to me, the Progenitor desires that your new internal organs are checked up on. We request verbal statements regarding their function. Confident statement: Being of the Progenitor's personal make, we trust that they are working at optimum efficiency." The inquisitor's head turned with a small whir to glance at the other male, briefly analyzing it and running it through the database. "Humorous observation: We appear to have a new subject within the facility. I hope you are not treating him to disobey our protocols, Sullivan," The inquisitor then turned fully towards this male, though it did not discount the evident threat within its now peripheral vision. "Apology: We regret that protection enforcers cannot be there to ensure your stay here a minimally painful one, but it seems that we have been replaced by the..." There was a loud whirring from the inquisitor's braincase as it paused, running into a conflict as to just how the next words should be phrased. After a moment, it finally, tentatively, decided, "Oppressors, who have taken a more active role in oppressing."

The inquisitor turned its attention back to Sulley, "Warning: Be careful what is divulged to new subjects, Sullivan. While I am sure your fleshed heart is in the right place in briefing this individual, there are some things better left unsaid." The Inquisitor had no foreknowledge of the conversations with this new subject, but knew that Sulley was the leader of the rebellion, and must have had knowledge of recent events. Barring the procedure placed on him, there was also the incident in the barracks. It was also, in part, to ensure that the newcomer knew their place. It was not the position of some fresh-from-the-streets meatbag to horn into serious affairs.

[Sulley]

Sulley might have recognized the conflict behind the musician's eyes. It could have been something similar to what he experienced on a regular basis. An inner refusal to accept the facts of life. It could have, anyway.

The man was persistent. He proffered a reasonable statement and proceeded to enclose details which could be considered weaknesses if the information fell into the wrong hands. Without ever having met before, there seemed to be a trust. Unless, of course, Sulley exaggerated his observations. Or maybe it was a reflection of himself.

His mouth was open, ready to tell the man what had been attempted, when a robotic voice set him back in his place and reminded him why he didn't talk to or trust strangers.

Quite intentionally, Sulley avoided turning to the caped figure. He sharpened the side of his body which the robot faced, and stared stiffly at the man he'd been talking to. Things could get ugly. He briefly wondered if this mutant across from him had an offensive mutation.

With a single eyes gesture Sulley warned the mutant that the newcomer was dangerous, untrustworthy, and unwanted. He may have been "fixed" by it's master, Lucian, but that didn't earn the specimen a friendly title. If the metallic figure thought he'd get his grimy tentacles into Sulley's body again then he had another thing coming.

[August]

August watched as it approached. He had heard about these things. And he knew that somewhere in the camp, some robomutant was running them. But although he was creepy, August wasn't concerned about that. He was worried about what the thing said.

"Warning: Be careful what is divulged to new subjects, Sullivan. While I am sure your fleshed heart is in the right place in briefing this individual, there are some things better left unsaid."

His mind was racing, but he would never let it show. He was waiting for Sullivan's response. [red] He doesn't look like a Sullivan...[/red] he thought with a little half-smile. But that smile soon disappeared. Because as he looked at the man for some kind of reaction, he found something that scared him. It was a warning. August was hoping that something like this wouldn't happen. Nevertheless, he caught the cue. So he did the only thing he could do. He braced himself to shield. And just for practice, he would shield Sullivan too.

After all, August needed him. And maybe, Sullivan needed August.

[Lucian Verdus]

"Observation: Your silent demeanor is as stoic as ever, Sullivan. If you will not give us a verbal analysis of your new internal organs, we will have to take the received data at its word. It is not perfect, however, and a failure may not be detected. Warning: If these organs fail, you cannot be helped. Where will others attain more organs, much less have the surgical prowess to replace them all?" The red points of light that were the inquisitor's eyes were trained solely on Sullivan. As far as he was aware, the mutant was unaware of his master's little surprise. It was difficult to say whether an opportunity to use it would present itself, but Lucian was listening in, just in case.

"Query: What will it be, Sullivan? Will you risk death, or cooperate and balance your chances? Statement: Your brain is no longer entirely in control, Sullivan. The Progenitor is the final word on whether you live or die. I would also suggest that you keep this in mind before you decide to act on your animal impulses." Though it was not otherwise capable of doing so, the synthesized voice of the inquisitor was fearless, confident, and malicious. In essence, it knew the score, and the balance of power.

It was time. Lucian transmitted the secondary directive, which made the inquisitor's behavior core light up. "Statement: My secondary directive has been received from the Progenitor. He wishes that you know that your attempt to kill has, for once, failed. Both the woman you attempted to murder and the child who would have died along with her have both been revived by Lucian. Projection: When certain circumstances are met, your ex-lover will become a vital asset to the production of servitors. We would like to take this time to thank you, Sullivan. Without you, we would not have been able to solve one of our more severe problems with servitor integrity. "

[Sulley]

The corner of Sulley's mouth twitched. He glanced at the robot, his eyes subconsciously narrowing further, and then reached a hand up to assist his rolling neck in cracking. It was loud and gloriously relieving to the man, as if the tension in the air had made him stiff.

Unconcerned, he looked towards August again, this time with lazy lids and a tilted head, as if the man had said something to draw his attention.

[August]

August wasn't following. He shook his head, showing his discontent for just a moment before running his hand through his hair.

"Look man, I've got a wife and a kid out there. If you can't help me, then I've got to find someone who can. And you," he said, turning towards the robot, "You scare me. I hope we don't see each other much."

August squinted at Sullivan, hoping that he had some sort of answer, because he had nowhere else to go.