More people were arriving to watch the s**t show and they weren't soldiers. A part of Isolde cursed internally because it might not seem as if she had things under control, but as they arrived, she knew they would see them as they were. A few rabid children and other, quieter, more subdued ones who were either more clever than the lot or plotting something. However, one of the people to arrive was one of Isolde's most trusted marines and subordinates. They had seen the most awful sides of the battlefield and knew what it was like to only have a few bullets left in your clip and a dozen enemies left to kill. Isolde watched as she spoke to Fox. She could trust McKay to take care of this while she made certain other people who weren't there were warned and spoken to about the worst of the bunch. "McKay, can you take over? I have some things I need to see to in the meanwhile. You should be able to take care of a few wild children, just think of them as ISIS extremists, they'll do anything," she warned just as Raiden appeared. He mentioned something about more children on the bus, tugging Finch in front of her.
Finch cursed about his arm hurting, clearly a bit defeated from the whole ordeal. However, if that was mentioned out loud, she had a feeling that he would perk back up to throw another fit. "Once everyone else is secure I would send for the others. They don't seem to be making a ruckus and those who have given us the most issues are out here now," she told him, not bothering to waste her time chastening Finch's deaf ears. They would learn through experience and she was already growing tired of trying to help though who did not want it. Just as she turned her eyes, she noticed a silver haired male carrying a female off the bus. Neither had been in the fight and had finally come out. "There are your last two," the first sergeant nodded in their direction. It seemed as if the female he was carrying was paralyzed, thus needing to be carried. "Can we get a goddamn wheelchair for that girl over there? Damn morons should have had one waiting for her here if you knew of her disabilities," Isolde snarled as one of the men went off to fetch what she requested.
She turned away from Raiden and spotted a weary Lilian and now one of the medical staff. She gave a nod of acknowledgement in both of her directions as she strode toward the entrance of the facility and went to complete what business she had. She found a computer room and used her military ID to log into the childrens' files. She found the names of the blonde male and the white haired female, locking them into her memory so she could mention them to the person she was on her way to visit. She slid her ID out and continued through the building until she found the sector she had meant to visit. She didn't bother knocking on the door to the behaviorist's unit. Instead, she stood in the door frame, staring in at Arden, who seemed to be occupying himself well enough.
Isolde couldn't say she knew many who liked him. However, he was an important part of the facility. He not only worked with the children, but also with the adults. Even she had been through his annoying series of tests to make certain she was mentally stable enough to be administered the serum. He was one of the few people, aside from some medical staff, that knew of the biological ingenuity that made her different from the other military personnel. He also had probably guessed to her PTSD, which most soldiers had, especially when coming back from war. Isolde had seen so many tours that it was a surprise she wasn't more of a wreck.
"We've already got ourselves a few problem children. I figured I'd come and tell you, since you didn't come to see the show," she mused, walking forward with a small smirk.
►xxxxxThe white haired boy sadly shook his head, this was crazy, Finch was getting progressively more and more annoyed each action the government decided to take and poor Risa kept being taken down and scolded. Emory knew that backing down would just lead them closer to their demise but fighting would only make the journey there even harder, they wouldn’t back down they would just keep getting harder and harder. Emory hopped off of the bus, surrounded by guns and obviously by this point he realized there were no powers it was pointless to do reckless things. It may have been a show of fighting spirit but it was not worth it, you needed to use your head at this point and manipulate your way out of the situation. But for that you needed trust, and trust would not be something easily acquired in a government facility where they are trained to be wary of your every single step. Emory wanted to fight sure, but he just knew that now was not the proper time, he couldn’t say anything though. There was no point in saying anything, it would only cause bitter feelings aimed towards him for giving in and not desiring to fight. He mentally shrugged his shoulders, for right now his peers’ feelings about him didn’t matter its was how they felt about him after spending quality time with him that mattered, if they were to formulate a plan they would need all of their individual strengths aside from those god forsaken powers. Not having their powers active just proved how human they actually were, why people couldn’t see that and just somehow contain their powers without having to kidnap them was beyond Emory.
An odd tingling sensation crept down Emory’s spine, the weird guy from before seemed to be emanating some power again. He cocked his head to look questioningly at the kid, what was going on? For a second that seemed much longer than just that Emory could hear his father screaming at him, nothing discernable just his loud, angry screams. Fear flashed through Emory’s eyes, he knew there was no possible way his father could be here but the fear he felt didn’t budge, until that second went by and he had returned to his senses. He realized judging by everyone else’s reactions that it had hit them as well, and that the power definitely came from that creepy boy. The white haired boy’s eyes flashed with hatred for just a brief second, he was never a hateful person he wasn’t even mean, however if you made him live through the horrors that he went through with his father when he was nowhere present Emory would not be the oddly chipper little cub scout he was before. As he regained his composure he finally took his first few steps outside of the bus, they were uncomfortable due to the chains but he didn’t really care at this point he really just wanted to go lie down.
He looked around the area surveying every minute detail that he could, barbed wire fences and a plain looking facility. This was exactly what he had imagined in his head, only far larger, but no matter it would be possible to escape. There had to be at least one technical junkie that could help control any electronic surveillance gear with them, that would be grand, he sighed happily to himself thinking of his grande scheme. Suddenly something caught his eye, blonde hair and green eyes was all that he saw, it was just a regular foot soldier but something about him felt nostalgic. Emory’s eyes widened, if only he could get a better glimpse of him, but no he had left him and he had be told numerous times that he had died. Words would not escape his throat even though he wanted to call out one name, it was pointless any number of men could have that hair and eye color combination. ' ‘Ha of course not, of course not. It’s just an illusion Emory, he’s gone and you gotta get your head back in the game.’ It was hard, things were hard when he had left Emory but the now white haired boy could never hate him. Gripping the jacket he wore with sadness in his eyes he trudged on, looking at the ground attempting to get his mind set on his main goal. Biting his bottom lip he looked back up with a now more determined look on his weary face. He didn’t pay attention to the faces and words around him, he couldn’t focus anymore. His strength was leaving him, again being trapped in a basement for so long took a toll on someone’s body. He staggered in line following where he was supposed to go unaware of what laid ahead. Emory knew his goal though, he was determined to set them in motion once he was ready, this would be possible and it would be hard.
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wʜᴇʀᴇ: The bus--&Outside of the bus
wʜo: Everyone outside
cuʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ: Tired, beyond tired
ooc: An even crappier post than before HUZZAH I'M SO SORRY.
xxxxxxxxxx【 LOCATION 】 ×agatexxxxxx【 MOOD 】 ×xneutralakuxxx【 COMPANY 】 ×xtoo many peoplexxx xxxxx ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
To say that Fox was surprised was an understatement. He hadn't expected Isolde to commend him for shooting out the bus's tires. In fact, he had been expecting the opposite. Nonetheless, the First Sergeant's praise gave him a relief of some sort. And maybe even a swell of pride. After all, that woman was the sole reason he was a soldier in the first place, and after hearing her praise, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself. It was like hearing hearing your mother say that you did a good job on a test, or your father giving you a pat on the back for catching that pop fly at your first little league baseball game. It was like...
Fox shook his head and took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose and breathing out through his mouth. God, the memories never left. No matter how much he wanted to forget―No. No matter how much he needed to forget, it was simply impossible. Who ever said pain was temporary? he thought bitterly.
Properly bringing himself back into reality, Fox noticed Isolde reprimanding Zack for the recent series of events. From what he could see and hear, Zack was receiving quite the penalty for his actions. Fox had to fight the urge to release the girl in his grasp and go over to defend his partner.
Once the First Sergeant was done with Zack, she turned towards a cautious Fox. "Levitt, I invite you to also join us in the morning as a reward. I know you're already skilled enough, but you can never be over prepared for what is out there. I can't promote you since you're in the army, but I can put in word with your commanding officer and see that it gets done within the week. Because we've got our work cut out for us..."
For a moment or two, Fox was speechless. It wasn't until one of the psychic kids yelled out from behind him that he found his voice. "Y-yes, First Sergeant Schäffer." He mentally punched himself for stuttering. "Thanks."
From the corner of his eye, Fox noticed Zack walking back towards the building. Rolling his lips into his mouth, he redirected his attention to Saoirse, who had just arrived at his side. He couldn't be worrying about Zack right now; he still had loads of work to do. Zack would be okay...right?
Fox gave Saoirse a brief half-smile. "Could be better," he muttered, keeping a firm grip on Risa. "This entire morning has been complete shit."
Just then Isolde approached the two, asking if Saoirse could take over while she tended to some other things. Taking a step back, Fox allowed the women to discuss without his presence.
"Hey doc....you might want to check out that one over there....hopefully his nose is broken.....it looks better now then it did before..."
Fox looked down at the white-haired girl he was currently holding, following her eyes to Tay Lo Jackovitz. When had he arrived? Fox let out a dry laugh in response to the girl's sarcastic musing, but provided no words. Instead, he dragged her over to where Tay stood. "Hey, Jackovitz. When should I be bringing her to the lab?"
【 OOC 】 ×xaugh this post was so rushed i'm sorryxxx
Zenovij
a labyrinth fae
yeah, that's totally cool with me! sorry, i don't really have much knowledge about this kind of stuff. ; v;
Uncomfortable waves of nostalgia lurched through him as he sat restlessly on the moth-eaten sofa, whose regurgitated floral pattern plastered against the stretch of faded blue upholstery looked more like a menacing wreckage of strange shapes than it did any place one would feel comfortable sitting. Pulling the olive green cap from his head, he laid it in his lap and ran a quick hand through the heat-stressed crop of blonde hair atop his head while the other began uneasily tracing the tightly-knit threads along the brim of his hat. It was almost jarring how unchanged things seemed; it had been nearly seven years since he last step foot beneath this roof, and everything—down to the undusted knick-knacks scattered haphazardly across the mantle to the unsightly tear in the outdated laced curtains—was exactly as he’d left it, the thick-headed and disorderly teenager he once was. Things were different now, of course, now he was a thick-headed and disorderly adult, cleverly dressed up in a soldier’s colours and the trademarked guise of accomplishment that was neatly packaged along with it. It was a bitterly amusing thought, albeit one that he couldn’t completely and truthfully deny as accurate, and it might have even coaxed a laugh out of him were it not for the nature of his reluctant reunion, and the occasion that had finally and begrudgingly drawn him back to this bleak, unfortunate household.
A twinge of guilt bit into his stomach, prodding him to feel pity for the pale-faced woman sitting across from him, her face wet and galled red from sobbing, bearing a few more streaks of grey across her golden head than he last remembered. At her side sat a man whose face was far less gracefully etched with age, for whom the young man strained and fell short of being able to muster sympathy, though it hardly seemed to matter to the old man, who resolved his face into stone and avoided the uncensored scrutiny in the young man’s eyes.
For a time that seemed far longer than the dutiful ticking of the old grandfather clock prescribed, the room suffered in silence all but for his mother’s sporadic sniffling.
A family photo was clumsily posted into the wall on the farthest side of the musty confines of his childhood home’s living room, undoubtedly caked three times over with dust and other remnants of neglect and carelessness, though despite its wear and tear the image tucked away inside pervaded through the grime and cast the hazy image of four figures posed next to one another, while the expressions on their faces, whether they were joyful or otherwise he could not recall, remained still unclear. He, like any other human being who hadn’t been living their lives in a coma for the past few years knew perfectly well about the epidemic that currently had their ‘great nation’ caught in its merciless clutches, and had seen firsthand the egregious impact it’d had not just in his own homeland, but across the globe as well. He’d been there to put down the riots, push back the extremists and had been buried up to his neck in the devastation that followed.
Yet, despite all that, it seemed a grossly inadequate excuse for his reluctance to return here, and for turning his back on the fourth and now absent figure left in their stupid ******** family photo.
The moment the young man’s eyes strayed toward this forgotten artifact from a time apparently equally as forgotten, his mother seemed to take immediate notice and seized the opportunity to finally say something, capturing his hesitant attention but not his gaze.
“Matthias, it’s really good to see you.” she uttered hoarsely, painstakingly curling her miserable expression into a smile, as warm as it was agonizing, and settled her hand gingerly on the young man’s knee as if she were unsure whether or not it was acceptable to do so. Matthias offered no discernible or immediate reaction, leaving the teary-eyed woman to wallow in her stalemated interaction, staring pleadingly at the young man as her attempt to dissuade him from broaching the subject that his very presence demanded flew fast out of her window of hope, pressuring her to slowly withdraw, folding her arms pitifully across her lap. His father remained utterly still and predictably silent, adding nothing more to the exchange apart from his resent-filled sideways glances and a stifled cough every now and then. The young man lingered only a moment longer on the dusty old photograph before reeling himself back in, frustration quickly intensifying as another excruciating dose of silence drowned the space around them; the space that so desperately begged to be interrupted, and yet apparently no one could find the initiative. Sighing purposefully loud, he slid his hand across his forehead and jabbed his thumb into his temple, kneading away the onset of a headache.
”Where is he?” he forcibly broke the silence, testing the border between asking a question and demanding an answer, emphatically dropping the hand from his face and clapping it loudly against his knee. His mother’s features shifted rapidly into surprise, as if she hadn’t the slightest goddamn clue as to what or who he could possibly be asking about, and through the spiteful glare that smeared itself across his face, he had her pinned, silentlydaring her to just ask him what he meant. Of course, she knew precisely what it was he meant, and no amount of feigning ignorance would be able to convince him otherwise. It seemed that the woman had realized this too as she promptly discarded her shocked expression and covered her face, tears waning in the corners of her eyes.
It wasn’t good enough, not even close.
”Any ideas? Anyone?” he continued, exchanging glances between his parents, and yet still they just ******** sat there like there wasn’t anything wrong with the picture they had so diligently illustrated out before him. Noisily choking back a sob, his mother covered her mouth with her hand, staring down at her feet as though she would find her answer hidden somewhere in the floorboards. Part of him had already come to the realization that the woman, as obviously in pain as she was, didn’t need this from him, and knew with every bone in his body that she didn’t deserve any of this, and that more than likely he would regret every single word by the time it was done. But it was too late, just as he knew, without either of their confirmation, that it was too late for his brother.
”Because I think I’ve got a pretty good idea where he is.” he added after having given ample time for either one of them to answer his previous question, and the fact that both of them had neglected to yet again had only given him further reason to delve deeper into this hurtful tirade.
”Matthias, plea—“
”Well?” he raised his voice, struggling to swallow back the building lump in his throat.
”He’s dead.” the monotonous, gravelly voice of his father muttered finally, though the old man’s face registered no opinion on his statement in favour of either direction, completely and utterly straight-faced; he couldn’t even scrounge up enough decency to look his son in the face as he said it.
So, that was it then. End of story.
For several moments, Matthias said nothing, and the only sound that permeated the cramped room was his mother, weeping into the sleeves of her dress and the incessant ticking of the grandfather clock.
The young man suddenly stood, snatching his green cap from where, in the throes of his fit, it had fallen on the floor and marched hastily toward the front door of his childhood home, entirely engrossed in his own self-manufactured tunnel-vision, focusing not on the wretched scene he had just worthlessly written, directed, and starred in, and instead saw nothing but the threshold to his escape. Violently yanking the door open wide enough to allow a deceptively sweet-smelling and cool afternoon breeze to rush into the miserable little house, he paused, and inhaled deeply through his nose, resisting all impulse to look back.
”Was that so [********] difficult?” he asked through his tightened jaw, slamming the door behind him as he proceeded outside.
Matthias jerked open his car door, carelessly tossing his cap into the passenger seat as he climbed inside, wasting not a single moment in lividly jamming the key into the ignition and cranking the engine into life. His hands were latched onto the steering wheel as though it would drive away without him, breathing rapidly and heavily within the secure bounds of his vehicle. At once he pulled back, prying his hands from the steering-wheel and propping one of his elbows against his leg, prodding his forehead with his fingertips in an attempt to wrestle control over the throbbing in his skull.
What had he expected to come back here and find? Did he honestly believe that the kid would have been magically exempt from the s**t just because he was his brother? Would coming back here sooner even have made a difference?
THUD, he pounded his fist against the center console, ”Goddammit!” he shouted, grating his voice against the sound of the rumbling engine. Dragging his hand down the length of his face until it rested on his chin, he breathed, and nothing else.
Pulling out of the driveway, he disappeared down the road.
A shrill shriek invaded the unlit calm spread about the small, virtually bare room, disheveling not only the illusion of tranquility, but the oblong, unmoving lump which amidst the black was indistinguishable from any of the other vague, colourless shapes, regardless of how few they were. Juxtaposed to this: a dim luminance of a healthy green hue which was outlined by the symbols ‘2:58’ deliberately on its face, albeit for a moment briefly obscured by an arm that seemed to have been reaching for the glowing numbers had it not instead found the wailing device directly next to it. Something somewhere between a groan and a sigh escaped the abruptly awakened entity as it struggled to comprehend the array of letters and numbers displayed brightly on the screaming device’s screen, and for a moment he considered simply ripping out its battery and chucking it across the room. Unfortunately, the man eventually succumbed to reason and fumbled with the irritating source of sound, simultaneously throttling it and bringing it to his ear. Before he had the opportunity to offer anything in the fashion of greeting, anger, smart-a** comment or whatever it was his weary mind could conjure at a moment’s notice, he was at once engaged in what some might have considered a rather one-sided conversation between he and the audibly punctilious voice commandeering what was supposed to be his night’s sleep. After a few agonizingly long minutes of barely mumbling either ‘Yes’, ‘No’ or ‘Understood’ into the receiving end of his phone, the voice gave him leave.
The arm that had been ensuring communications between he and the voice, being no longer needed, flopped over onto the bed beside him, letting the tiny telephone bounce a ways before landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’. Releasing a disgruntled sigh, he rolled over, staring hard at the wall that awaited him there.
Allowing himself just a few more minutes of wishfully contemplating some way out of what was destined to be a long series of events he wanted no part of, he climbed out of bed and prepared himself for the long drive ahead of him.
Despite having been briefed, run through every protocol and drill known to man, and having completed the training program specifically tailored to the threat of super-powered nine year olds, his information regarding the Rosemary Reformation Camp was essentially limited to what little and most probably under-exaggerated details concerning its practices were made available to the general public. Its purpose, apparently, was to work on and conduct research toward, as the very name of the facility suggested, reforming the mutated children affected by the epidemic back to their previously, mostly normal states. He’d seen more than his fair share of those yellow school-buses rolling eerily down the high-way completely sardined with screaming, crying, and generally unhappy kids, though he saw very few if none ever traveling in the opposite direction, leaving unanswered questions concerning how successful the work being performed at Rosemary actually was. Regardless, he had little choice in the matter as he approached the facility, stapled with all your typical trademarks of a high-security militarized compound. Guard towers looming ominously over a wide and dreary stretch of pavement, barbed wire fences, and guns vigilantly patrolling the premises—the whole nine yards.
He was ID’d, searched, and after what seemed like a ridiculously long time finally cleared to proceed onto the grounds, free to himself long enough to locate and grab all of his gear which had already been transferred, plundered, and screened for authorization. He should have been accustomed to this frivolous rigmarole, but his lack of sleep coupled with the dissatisfaction over his current assignment, considering that he was a soldier and not a goddamned babysitter, had the man already pressed for an ill mood. Pulling the green cap down over his head and wiggling it into a straight position, he realized looking around that all of the other guards that shared his unfortunate pleasure to be here this morning had already fallen into their positions, which meant—
“You’re late, Falken.”
His feet forced themselves to a stop mid-stride and rooted him to the spot, feeling the Officer’s dissecting gaze upon his back, unfortunately compelling him to turn and face his superior as much as he would have preferred to pretend to not have heard him. Stifling a sigh, Matthias turned on his heel, locking eyes with the man and saluting him accordingly.
“No s**t.” he said bitterly, addressing the man’s comment concerning his tardiness.
The old man glared heavily in his direction, sufficiently reminding Matthias that even here, he was still mighty low on the food chain as far as most of everyone was concerned and that the rules still very much applied to him. Recognizing this with no spared frustration, Matthias straightened himself out.
“No s**t, sir.”
Satisfied but thoroughly unamused, the Officer continued,
“The first bus will be here in five minutes or less, so I suggest you get your a** to your post and learn to watch your mouth on the way there, because you’re just a few seconds away from earning a permanent stay here, are we clear?”
Matthias read him loud and clear, though it didn’t mean that he was pleased about it. Offering his affirmation in the form of a curt nod, he stepped aside and advanced forward behind the Officer.
He and the assortment of other identically garbed men and woman, each holding their service rifles that were slung firmly over their shoulders, were made to hold their positions as First Sergeant Schaffer, a familiar name to an unfamiliar face, along with a couple of others, one of which had shot the tires out on the bus, whose faces and names were both equivalently unfamiliar handled the trouble caused by a couple of the more unruly super-charged rugrats and at long last initiated the process of actually getting them off of the bus and into whatever the next stage was in this dismal place supposedly for the benefit of their ‘reformation’. The wild white-haired girl was wrenched away by the green-haired man, and the rest of the children would follow behind, assuming there wasn’t another incident. He couldn’t say he blamed them; had he been in their shoes, he would have most certainly made sure he was the biggest pain in anyone’s a** they’d ever experienced. The rest hadn’t seemed to have been as involved in the mayhem as the blond and the white-haired girl, and as they hopped off of the disabled yellow bus, they hardly were cause for alarm and held a very limited grip on his attention until—
Matthias shuffled uncomfortably, furrowing his brow as another weirdly white-haired child stepped out of the bus though it wasn’t unnecessarily that fact that earned his attention, but rather the faded blue jacket on his back. He could have been mistaken, but he thought it looked exactly like another that he’d worn the hell out of as a teenager, frayed the sleeves and nearly burned one of the pockets through with a match. Those details would have been difficultly identified from such a distance, however, and he had no choice to mark the occasion as an eerie coincidence, most likely an effect of his recent ‘family reunion’ attempted to bring itself to the forefront of his thoughts. He would not allow it, however, and apparently neither would their Officer as he stepped out of the line and turned to address them all.
“I wouldn’t exactly call that a success, but...” he began, trailing off and making a dismissive noncommittal noise.
“Alright, all of you, move on inside into processing, they’ll tell you where you’ll be headed next.”
The white-collar behind the desk stared intently at whatever was on the screen in front of him, and it was unclear whether or not he realized that Matthias was the next in line, or if he’d noticed him glaring impatiently down at him wondering to himself if maybe the man had forgotten what his job here was. The man behind the desk yawned, scratching noisily at the stubble on his chin before leisurely raising his eyes up to meet Matthias’, apparently unconcerned about the obviously frustrated expression drawn across his features.
“Your name please?” the man behind the desk asked, his tone just as sluggish as his posture.
“Falken.” he replied quickly and curtly, waiting as the man unhurriedly plucked a few of the keys on the keyboard in front of them and wiggled the mouse, giving whatever it was a couple of clicks. The man’s expression furrowed for a moment, lifting his gaze to Matthias, and then back down at the screen in confusion.
“That’s ah... Matt... Matthias, I’m assuming?” he asked, raising his brows at him skeptically.
“That’s me.” the young man chimed in, tapping the desk and flashing a sarcastic smile, leaving it there for only an instant before letting the scowl settle back over his expression. The man behind the desk nodded, tapped another key, and then looked back up at the increasingly aggravated man with the same vague disinterest veiled over his face from earlier.
“Find Doctor Frier; you’ll be with him this afternoon.” the man behind the desk said, lazily raising his hand and pointing his finger down the adjacent hallway. Matthias released a sigh of relief and orientated himself in the relevant direction and moved himself forward toward whatever nonsense awaited him next.
His pace had slowed by the time the long stretch of doors and intricately lettered name plaques overwhelmed all the rest of the facility’s features, reading each and every name as he stepped past it, until—finally, Arden Frier, behaviour psychologist. Simply reading the man’s occupation nearly made him grimace; he’d never met a psychologist or any kind of guy who’s job involved picking at a person’s brains to be a favourable type of person, in general they seemed to be pretentious, eccentric, and overall just weirdos. It would be just his luck, then, to have to be cooped up with Doctor Arden Frier while he did whatever strange and probably irritating things he did. He would have made a comment to himself regarding just what he thought about having to do such a thing, but as it so happened, the door was standing wide open.
“Doctor Frier, First Sergeant Schäffer.” he said, addressing each of them by their titles and taking a few steps into the view of the peculiarly green-haired man behind his desk, and his guest, the blonde Sergeant for whatever reason that was. “Private Falken, reporting.” he added in a drone, not necessarily indicative of disinterest but more of him having said that same short phrase so many times that it seemed more like a reflex rather than communication. xxxxx■■■■
◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥ wʜᴇʀᴇ: in the facility courtyard, inside the facility wʜo:um not really anyone and then arden, isolde cuʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ:reportin' for duty ooc:PLEASE DON'T KILL ME IM SO SORRY OTL
the gate___fox, raiden, risa, finch + co. ___ cautiously productive _ L o c a t i o n ___ C o m p a n y ______ M o o d ________
He had pulled down his mask again in the midst of his conversation with the senior scientist, most of which was spent nodding pointedly along with his superior's stipulations. Of course he understood what it all meant. Still, the intern couldn't help making a face. He didn't seem to be too terribly thrilled by the procedure in which he was to take precedence in conducting. There were parts in the discussion where his eyes would widen and narrow and then focus again on what had to be done. Doggedly did he dare to chance a glance at the two rowdy new arrivals in question, a blonde male and paler haired girl. Both of whom appeared to have been forcibly dredged up some kind of less than friendly close encounter. That in itself was a pretty apparent sign they must've been held accountable for having started something.
When the methodology talk was finished, a clipboard was handed to him, to which Tay obligingly accepted the two pages of very brief information. These were just the subject papers. Actual detailed information pertaining to the proper test proceedings would be on file back at the lab, not that he was unfamiliar steps.
The capable stand-in blinked however, a little surprised to have been addressed by one of the children, the white haired girl no less. Looking around only made it clear that there was already some distance placed between him and the other lab coats in that slight amount of time. The others had gone right back to work, eying down the fresh meat from an analytical perspective, actually processing, and speculating systematic such and such. Tay noted that that the light haired girl looked to be very pleased herself. She seemed to have called him out to verify the validity of her claims. Looking at the handiwork in question, even from this distance, the medical student could tell, that that it most certainly was a broken nose. Although whether the man looked with it than without was probably debatable. For a second Tay considered the just how fragile his own nasal bone was, and it looked like he dreaded it.
Nonetheless, the Doctor-in-training waved someone else over and directed them to assist the man with the profusely bleeding beak. He now had other matters that needed tending to.
"Ah, yes..." he replied when Fox neared with the girl in hand. Tay was perhaps overly aware of how they both were potential bone breakers, especially since one of them had supposedly just done so in the very recent past. It was definitely fresh in his mind.
"Now's fine. I'll call ahead so they'll be expecting you." he said swallowing a bit of his own gutlessness while offhandedly gazing down at the second persons sheet. "A-and we'll be taking Mister Finch too." he added, raising his voice and gesturing to the boy that Raiden was currently handling. Yikes. This was shaping up to be a possibly volatile looking bunch. Then again that kind of was what the prerequisites of this particular test called for. But that didn't mean that he had to take any unnecessary risks until they were actually within the testing facility did he? Why would he? Why take the chance?
With that thought Tay swiftly pulled his mask back on and crouched down to open the metallic briefcase that he had with him. Skilled hands made short work of assembling whatever it was that was required. A small vial was held up to the light, before having been loaded into a hand held, possibly spring loaded device. He took a calculated breath in as he readied himself. A test fire yielded a sound similar to that of a air powered stapler going off and a smallish spurt of clear liquid. The the auto injector gun was ready.
"Alright. I'm going to give you something that will help keep you calm, but only for a little while, so please hold still." that last part was directed to the handler as much as it was to the kids getting their beddy-bye shots, whichever that would be doing most of the holding-still in either case. "You may feel a little p***k." said the man draped in the white lab coat amusingly flatly. First he approached the girl and then the boy shortly thereafter.
tabtabtabtabxsome people [[ must grasp ♣for normality ]] ❖ ❖ tabtabtabtabXXXX◆◆◆they are victims of reality they know it will never be normal
NOTHING WILL EVER BE NORMAL WITHOUT YOU SERGEANT SAOIRSE MCKAY
Fox seemed okay. He looked annoyed, sounded tired and was probably worried for Zack (she could never exactly tell what went on between those two) but was otherwise fine. So in response to his comment on the shitty morning, the woman gave a small, acknowledging grunt - no words needed. It wasn't like she could've fit any words in anyway, as the First Sergeant walked up as soon as Fox was quiet with a job for her. Saoirse snapped to attention and had to force herself not to salute; old habits die hard. As Isolde gave her her duty she watched and nodded, staying quiet, and gave another little grunt in agreement as the woman walked away. However, for as stoic as her face remained, her stomach formed a pit when she learned what she had to do. "You should be able to take care of a few wild children?" Mary and Joseph...
The woman paused, staring into space for a moment. Just... don't overthink it. An order's an order. You've got a job to do. Shaking away her nerves and the numbness in her hands, Saoirse steeled herself and walked to the place Schaffer had been standing when she addressed the teens. She waited for Fox and Raiden, who were handling the white-haired brat and the blonde troublemaker, to hand them off to someone who could sedate them and then faced the group in front of the bus and stared them down. There was another white-haired kid, this one holding a girl in his arms, and the woman was a little confused until she noticed a uniformed man on the sidelines, also looking rather confused, holding a wheelchair and glancing left and right. Probably looking for Schaffer. Saoirse gave one stiff, clear snap - a crack in the air - in the soldier's direction, catching his attention, then pointed to the pair in the front line. He nodded and ran to them, setting up the wheelchair beside the girl before running back to his post. Saoirse waited until the child was in it to look back down the line. There she noticed yet another white-haired boy as well as several other children, whose faces she tried her best to commit to her weak, task-oriented memory.
If she were addressing subordinate soldiers, she would've barked some usual, clichéd military phrase as her version of a joke. "Attention!" "Officer on deck!" Something like that. But she couldn't do that here, now could she. "Just treat them like ISIS extremists!" Yea, right. Saoirse cracked her knuckles. To the children this probably seemed menacing - for Saoirse, it was a nervous habit. Her spine was stiff, her eyes were steel and her jaw set like stone as she began to speak.
"Rosemary Reformation Base is a camp designed with two purposes in mind. The first is to harbor you, the children inflicted with the currently ongoing and unexplained epidemic affecting our nation. The second is to study the effects of this epidemic - to learn what we are up against." She paused, lifting her chin to keep from looking at the subtle, worn imprint around her left ring finger. "To learn how we can control it."
With a strong wave of her arm, Saoirse points to the top of the gates, to the broken bus and the gunmen in the Towers. "As soon as you crossed that threshold, you became a ward of Rosemary and of the state. It is now your duty to assist the Rosemary staff in their studies and to fulfill the expectations placed upon you as a 'Rosemary kid'. You are more than a child, now. You are an asset. And the first of your many new responsibilities as an asset to the Rosemary team is to submit to psychological screening by our medical staff, in order to assess your wellbeing as well as to determine how your mental state may affect your infliction."
Soldiers set in around the teens, herding them together - no child was without an armed guard at their shoulder. Saoirse faced away from the children and looked in the direction of the building they would be heading towards.
"These men will guide you throughout your first day at Rosemary. Please follow them into the facility ahead to begin the screening process. If you have any questions or require any assistance..." Her eyes flicked to the handicapped girl, her lips pursing in worry. It didn't occur to her that pursed lips were usually a sign of annoyance. "Direct them towards your guard. We will help in whatever way we can. If we can't..." s**t. She was running out of material - most of that speech she'd pulled from pamphlets or from other officers' instructional presentations. She gritted her teeth anxiously. "Well, if we can't we can't. Move out."
"Move out." Nice. Saoirse thought with an inward groan as the soldiers began pushing their charges to their destination. When they'd reached the entrance to the facility, the teens were jostled into a line. The Commanding Sergeant approached the line's head, where the white-haired boy who'd been helping the handicapped girl had ended up. "Stay." She barked.
Saoirse walked to Dr. Frier's door and knocked. When the knock went unanswered for half a millisecond, she cursed quietly and entered anyway, impatient under the weight of her duty. "The first group is ready for screening, doctor." She grumbled, glancing around the sparse, sterile room, too on edge to notice either Sergeant Schaffer or the soldier that was with her.
The longer they stood there, and the more each person from the facility spoke, the more Lias felt uncomfortable about things. It was what was said by the darker haired woman who gave off the feeling of a commanding position, that really set him off about it all. "They want to study us, because they view us as some sort of threat? They've already got lap dogs of their own hiding in sheep's clothing, what could they want the rest of us for? Except to lock us up and throw away the key. Especially those like me, who've lost anyone who would come to search for them. I am certain to wind up in a jail cell for the rest of my life, if they designed one that could hold even me," Lias thought, before being approached by a man carrying a wheelchair. "Must be for her. I suppose it is overdue that I put her down anyway," Lias thought again, placing the dark haired girl into the Wheelchair, that was as quickly accompanied by a guard, as the last one disappeared.
"I don't mean to get off on the wrong foot with anyone, or step on any toes, but how can you expect us to be so complacent, when you tie us up, chain us down, and the moment we're given any sense of freedom to move about, you strap a personal sentry over each and every one of us? Is that any kind of respect you'd show to one another? I don't feel like this a very compliant spot. What crimes have we committed to necessitate such a reception, of armed guards, wired fences, and towers designed to keep an eye on everything within their influence? This is sounding more and more like an internment camp for kids who didn't ask for their circumstances. If I am wrong, stop me now, i'll say no more of the like," Lias said, his eyes poised on the lesser lady officer. The act of defiant behavior, though only verbal, was likely to be well noted among the guards at least. Maybe the higher ups would keep an eye on it. It was soon, the order came from said lady officer, to have them form into a line, and begin the process of shuffling along to an area where they'd be subjected to a psychological evaluation.
Lias' trip in the line was shortly so, as the lady officer from before, requested he wait there at the doorway. He wasn't sure as to why, but without his powers, he wasn't precisely in a position to deny the order. The Snow white hair muffled over his face, as Lias' discontent grew. Each moment spent there, lead to greater displeasure, especially at the thought of some white coat, poking at his brain. On second thought, maybe speaking with someone of greater intelligence will give him a break from the people who are only trusted to point a weapon, and shout their commands, instead of speaking softly. It might go over better.
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
Where: Unknown, Entrance Way
With:A bunch of other teenagers and Babysitters, Military Woman -> Handicapped Girl
Feelings: Perceptive, but becoming a little annoyed
The red-headed guy asked the silver-haired boy to pick her up and he introduced himself as Lias. He explained his intentions and even though she knew he had no intention to hurt her, Kenzie’s current lack of powers and personal mobility made her uneasy. She glanced away from him, glaring at the wall for a moment. His help was her only current way off the bus. Given the situation, she’d much rather a fellow kidnapped kid help her out instead of one of the guards. Letting out a sigh, Kenzie turned her eyes back to Lias and lifted her arms to wrap around his neck when he bent to pick her up. “Thanks” she murmured as he moved them off the bus to join the other kids.
A few of the facility officials trickled out of the various buildings to join in on their group and she carefully observed them, trying to take in as much information as she could. Risa was being held by a guy with green hair, looking fierce. There was a man in a white lab coat, a doctor or scientist of some kind she assumed. Then, the woman official who had come on the bus earlier spoke up again, barking the order at one of the guards to get a wheelchair for her before leaving towards one of the buildings.
Her eyes moved to the watch towers and the many guards with guns posted around the outside of the facility. She pursed her lips as a nervous knot twisted in her stomach making her nauseous. The doctor in the white coat moved then and her eyes followed him as he stuck Risa and then Finch with a needle filled with some kind of liquid. Her arms tightened around Lias’s neck. What did they give the two of them?
Another woman official stepped in front of their group and her eyes moved from her and Lias to a confused looking officer with a wheelchair. She snapped her fingers and indicated to her and the man rushed over, setting it up just beside them before running back to his post. Lias carefully placed her in the seat and Kenzie looked up at him and smiled, “Thank you.” She certainly felt more comfortable now that she had her own way to move herself around without needing help.
The woman now addressed them and she frowned at her words.Learn how we can control it? She scoffed. Control us, she means. Kenzie bit her lip as the woman continued. Guards filed in around them and she did her best to ignore hers. The woman official mentioned needing any assistance and gave her a glance. Kenzie immediately avoided her eyes and they all began to move out, her guard pushing her towards one of the buildings. The woman had them stop.
Lias spoke up then and when he was finished, she did too. Her anger was clear, “It is our duty to assist you?” She practically spat the words, “None of us chose to be here. You guys are kidnappers, you realize that, right?” Her hands clenched around the armrest of the wheelchair, “You say we’re assets to you guys but that’s bull. You need us to study our powers. To use our powers, like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb over there.” She motioned to Fox and Raiden. “Like Lias said, we’ve committed no crimes. However, there is no doubt in my mind that the second one of us tries to escape from here, you’ll gun us down like we mean absolutely nothing. Knowing that, why should we cooperate when you guys are treating us like criminals?”
►xxxxxArden was still busying himself as the blonde First Sargent stepped foot into his office, nearly falling over he struggled briefly to pull himself back together. He was not very good at being caught doing things unprofessionally, he coughed to himself and stood up. He looked Isolde in the eyes and addressed her, “Well well, if it isn’t Mutant Blondie where is your entourage of overly dressed henchmen? Heh, no matter I really hate that I missed the arrival of the small cretins. I’m glad they weren’t lifeless sacks likes last time, man they were a sad group. But they were fun to pick at heh.” He smiled widely at Isolde, he had the most ridiculous nicknames for people and lacked tact when speaking. Turning back around he shuffled through the paperwork that he had, he grunted, “So uh Sargent Isolde, how are you feeling by the way. It’s been a bit since we’ve talked; you’ve been through a few things since then. Just wanna make sure they didn’t screw with your head any.” He was no good with conversation, much less polite conversation; he couldn’t just stand there looking at her. He had initially examined her for her admittance to the serum experiment, she had obvious signs of being a hardened soldier but nothing stood out to him as a concern. But it had been quite a while since he had seen her, he was glad she seemed to be doing well, but he would never admit that to himself.
He was about to say something else when someone else entered the office, he cringed. “How many more of you meatheads are they going to send me? Looks like they sent me a little punk this time, but I’m not here to care about you Mr. Falken. But, excuse me where are my manners I’ve seem to of lost them. There will be two others as well as you stationed here, you will be with me while the other two will be inside the observation room with the children. You’ll be in charge of covering my a** in case any of the children decide to get physical.” He lazily waved his arm into the spot which the man needed to go. “The kids should be here any second, don’t worry it shouldn’t take too long.” He stood up and walked towards his door to prevent any others from just walking in, he hated that.
He sat back down in his chair and looked to Isolde, “So what are you going to do once they get here, watch over me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid? Or do you have something better to do? This room is gonna get awfully cramped pretty quick.” His brain just ached thinking of the amount of people that would soon cram into the office; he couldn’t stand feeling stuffed in with people.
A knock was heard on his door, ‘Ah yay another one, maybe they will go away if I don’t get up quickly.’ but much to his dismay the other female soldier walked into the office as well. However this one seemed quite annoyed with the whole thing, his eyes narrowed at her. “My my what happened to you Sargent Fire Cro…” He bit back his tongue, he was resisting the urge to burst out laughing, now that was a new name he hadn’t meant to come up with. “I mean, you seem troubled Sargent Saoirse,I hope you are taking care of your mental well-being, but thank you for delivering that exciting news. If you would like to join your fellow comrades in watching me feel free to make this room even more cramped!” He cheerfully spit out, he just wanted to get this show on the road.
Crossing his arms he scanned over each of the individuals in the room, no one seemed to be of any concern. He was always analyzing, if you were in the same room as him he would be eyeing your behavior making sure you weren’t close to going off and murdering the whole facility. These were military professionals though, they had obviously been through a lot but they were strong and he could tell. He couldn’t say the same for everyone in the facility though, he had his concerns about quite a few but even though it was his job to report them the ones that caused the most trouble were ones that happened to be protected from his judgement. Not sure why they want the potential murderers to run free with them but he had no control over the government’s decisions. He sighed to himself, making one more smart crack before shutting up for good. “Looking forward to summer camp from hell ladies?” referring to the man in the corner the same way as the two actual women in the room, “Cause I sure am.”
cuʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ:Being a giant douche ooc:Super short transition post where I call people weird things and suck at writing
╚xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ╝
"Every lesson forms a new scar:
Never thought you'd make it this far"
___ && ____
Risa stood completely still as the doctor or scientist or whatever he was injected her with the serum. Risa was a fighter, in the physical sense. However, chemically, the serum went to work rather quickly, disarming her system at an alarming rate. With one last long look towards Finch, saddened by the fact that she had caused this. If she had only been a good girl, he wouldn't be in the same situation as she was now. Risa watched as the other children were being spoken to and corralled and listened as they spoke back to the guards.
"You don't have to do this.....just let us go..." Risa said softly to the doctor, her light eyes tearing up involuntarily. A sick realization slowly washed over her. She felt like a dog going to vet....she had the same fear in her veins and a gentle tremor. Hell, she was already wearing a collar, what difference was this? Her attention turned to the green haired boy she tried to stab earlier.
"..Don't let them do this....please.." Risa begged now as her human fear kicked into high gear. However, the sedative was seeping through her small, petite body and she was helpless now, clingy tightly to him. Her mind was running out of time, it scrambled for an escape but none came this time. Risa could barely keep her eyes open at this time.
"What are you going to do to me?" Risa asked, but her voice felt far off and dream like. She shook her head but the feeling was impossible to shake off. It felt like she was swimming in the ocean, with no where to go. Risa had been reckless, she had gone too far and now they would keep her in check. It was the only obvious solution. All the others had been smart, they were behaving and waiting to strike.
Everything happened so damn fast. In the first moment he was killing peacefully, then in the second he felt a tiny tingling pain in the neck and everything went black.
time skip
"What the hell just happened?" He asked half loud trying to put together his memories before he got here. He wasn't a weak minded person (right contrary), but this still left some questions inside him. "You were sedated..." a nearby voice answered his question, what he barely could hear due the noise what surrounded him. Obviously they were moving... He opened one of his eyes, looking around without any other motion to drag the conclusion they had to be in a bus. Probably in one of those yellow school bus type, what was on the hike all the time. He then checked the voice owner after what he closed back his eye.
He remembered already. People talked horror stories about that yellow school bus, what wandered every town and village of the country for kids like him. They wanted thrm because they were "dangerous", but actually he always was more than sure, that they wanted their power. Anyhow he doesn't cared much with that ghost story, until it happened with him too. He fainted without any reason. Then when he woke up something was changed. Something inside him, or his head. Somewhat if felt as if hr would've taken by aliens and experimented, without that time skip. After that it seemed as if he got another sense...
The redhead made a motion to lay somewhat more comfortable somewhere in the background using both seats by him. The young man was tied very well, though he was surprised because they left his eyes free. After his little show, he thought they will cover his eyes first.
The white straitjacket wasn't the most comfortable, and that think on his neck... it really was irritating. He felt like a dog, but said nothing. He had to many company around him, but he knew nobody, so he had trust in noone.
If there was something what he learned in these past few years, than that to trust nobody because they will betray you at the first time, when they get a chance. Everyone was friend only while that fit to their interests.
Sigh escaped between his lips, but he denied to think, instead he was determined to take a nap. He was sure that his companions will try their best to escape right after they've arrived and none of hem would think on that the reception committee will be prepared on that. Yeah, people are fool! He thought inside and made an other nuzzle move, when they've stopped.
The others became excited and they've already made some escaping plans. Some of them involved others, while few others decided to shoot a solo action. Dan doesn't really bothered himself even to sit up. He laid continuously comfortably on both seats. One leg on the seat, the other hung down. Few minutes after they stop a blonde woman came up on the bus blabbing about making things "better". That was sweet. It almost made Dan laugh. Obviously she couldn't win anyone's trust with that speech so the show just kept going.
After the blonde lady left something unexpected happened. It was kind of scary, but for Dan it seemed more like a chance. A chance of leaving. He quickly sit up - this worthed such a move and waited.
After the frightening screaming sounds and cryings a dark haired male made his presence between them. He seemed like them, and it seemed as if he really stood on their side handing a key for the white cat. What a stupid move... Dan sought and fell back on the same position as before. Their chance of leaving just slipped away, so he decided to return to his nap.
He had right. She froze, some hot headed idiot began to play the superhero and the undercover man - what was obvious (or was that only for him?) - finally could stand up in a heroic light. Well done... He thought inside. So many drama in basically ten minutes... He huffed and began to play the invisible. Slowly everyone was called down of the bus. And it seemed his plan was working. (You know what was the devil finest trick, right?)
A small smile spread on his lips as one of the soldier voice echoed in the bus. "Those were the last two..."
Dan nodded satisfied. It seemed his plan was working better than he even expected it. They've forgot about him. It still seemed a bit unbelievable mostly because he was one of those who got the most ties and claimed one of the most dangerous on the bus. At least he will be able to taste the blood soon again. On this think a smirk curled on the corner of his lips again like after a well done work and patiently waited for everyone to leave the yard, so he may walk out peacefully.
Alexandra's eyes snapped open before she sat up in her bed rubbing the side of her head looking at the clock. "Well s**t." She sighed as she rolled out of bed and began getting dressed, Alexandra had no actual rank she was here not only as a security precaution but to study her adaptive abilities and her own growing insanity. She grabbed a tape recorder from her desk and turned on record before setting it back on her desk. "personal note, Sleeping medications are wearing off faster then the Anti-psychotics and mood equalizers but not faster then the anti-spazmatics." She turned off the tape recorder before she rolled her shoulders. The five foot eight Mercenary wore what appeared to be an ace bandage over her upper body and uniform BDU pants with heavy boots, She had a custom made belt to carry her solid oak Bokken that she only got to carry when filling in for a sick guard or subduing an out of line psychic teenage and a lot of the time the males would get fresh with her and normally got roughed up for their troubles.
Alexandra pulled on her heavy leather duster before she downed a couple of pills with a chug of water and then proceeded out of her room looking around the so called barracks scratching the back of her head before she made a cup of coffee and proceeded to the labs to see about her medications and if they had any new information about her adaptive abilities and quite likely over hear the radios if her assistance is needed.
Isolde took no offense to Arden's words. While he didn't have a filter, she had gotten worse from people. If he were a military personnel it would be a different story, but the woman had learned on his mannerisms long ago and knew that the way he acted, as odd and uncomfortable as it could be, was normal for him. "I prefer Biologically Modified Blonde, a bit longer, but the ring is nice," she retorted, no ilk in her voice. She already knew that getting angry or displaying disdain toward Arden only spelled future trouble. There was no point in trying to disguise your true emotions, Arden would only find them anyways, but she decided to tolerate him so that she could cut down on whatever bad Arden had to write about her in his reports. She was honest with him, knowing that he would get to the truth either way. His question seemed harmless enough and she knew she'd probably have to have a session with him so he could make certain she wasn't going mad from the serum as many others had before her. However, their turning had been swift and within the first week of administration. Isolde was much further than a week. It had been more than a year, though she was still closely monitored. "Some nights are hard to sleep through, I find myself in the gym a lot working out or going through my kung fu forms. I suppose all soldiers have their own hardships after returning to a more lax life. Now, it just keeps me on my toes and that's what I need around these kids. They don't understand that submitting will just make things easier," she sighed.
Just as she finished, a new face appeared; a private. The first sergeant regarded him a bit disdainfully for interrupting them. He seemed a bit old to be a private, making her wonder what kind of problem he would prove to be. Typically, people didn't rank up if they were a bother. Or they lost ranks because they did something stupid. She kind of just stared at him as if he had done something incredibly stupid. "Why are you reporting to me? Couldn't you have gone to your chain of command or some other sergeant before me?" she complained, shaking her head. Every little private didn't have to come to her for orders. There were other people they could report to before her so that it minimized the time that Isolde spent on speaking with people she didn't need to deal with. She usually guided the higher ranked enlisted to tell the lower grunts to do things. However, it seemed that this private wanted to make an early impression on her. That wasn't always a good thing.
And he wasn't the last one. Saoirse popped up with all of the children. A moment of goddamn peace, is that too much to ask for? the woman cringed internally. Some of the kids seemed a bit more cross than how she had left them. She knew they didn't have a reason to be happy, but someone must have said something to rile up even the quieter and obedient ones. "I suppose I shall leave you to your exams. I'll come back another time," she told Arden, sparing her fellow female marine a nod as she strode away from the cramped enclosure. As she departed from the area she flipped open her phone, searching for the text. She did not see it and sent, to a random number, 'STATUS UPDATE'. It took a little bit, but a few moments later there was a ping and response. 'MISSION INFILTRATE IS NOW A GO'. The children thought themselves so clever, but Isolde had a chess piece they would not expect.
There were very select few who had information of this, to minimize rumors spreading. Isolde had more reason to feel bad for the children than most anyone else. Why? Because one of her own siblings was one of the mutants.
xxxxxxxxxx【 LOCATION 】 ×awalking to testing sitexxxxxx【 MOOD 】 ×xneutralakuxxx【 COMPANY 】 ×xraiden, tay, risa, finchxxx xxxxx ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
A smile nearly appeared on Fox's face when he heard the other man stutter. Tay had been gesturing over to the blond boy in Raiden's grasp, who's name was apparently Finch, when he stumbled over the word 'and.' Wary of us, I see, Fox thought, amused. He watched, somewhat patiently, as the medical researcher slipped on his mask and sorted through a very shiny briefcase. For once, he was actually interested in what Tay was doing and remained quiet. A small, clear vial was held up to the light before being loaded into an injector device that Fox instantly recognized. He'd seen it used on the children before and knew exactly what was going to happen next.
"Alright. I'm going to give you something that will help keep you calm, but only for a little while, so please hold still," Jackovitz had said. At this, Fox tightened his grip on the girl he was handling. He felt her slight tremor of fear, and tried his best to ignore her begging. It wasn't as if he knew what she was going through, or what hell she had faced on the way here, but he knew what fear looked liked, and it was all over her face. They were both mutants as well. One just made a different choice than the other and therefore ended up in a different situation. There was a small part of him that felt sort of sorry for her, but it was quickly forgotten as he recalled that only moments before, she had tried to stab him.
It wasn't long before the sedative kicked in, and Fox found himself having to hold up a lot more of her weight. He moved his hands to her upper arms, and held onto them firmly so that she wouldn't slip through. She was rather light, so it wasn't at all difficult. Fox also considered carrying her, but he decided that it was unnecessary for the time being. If she happened to fully collapse on the way to the lab later, he could just throw her over his shoulder and continue on his way.
With that, Fox jerked his chin in the direction of the building and looked over towards Raiden. "Let's get going, Ueda," he called as he started on towards the testing facility.
【 OOC 】 ×xum idrk what to do, so i hope this is alright.xxx
