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 Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 7:21 pm
 Dr. Ralcon "Voltair" von Voltari
Voltari couldn't really tell if she knew as little as she let on or if she had her suspicions.
Her normal voice had returned as well as her mannerisms. He jotted down a few notes as he listened to her, his writing skill that at a level to write on his clip-board without really having to look, keeping an eye on her and only occasionally looking down to keep himself at pace, "We're unsure if you had a psychological reaction to the pain medication we provided for you or if you were already falling into a unstable manner when we placed you in there. It is somewhat understandable, here in Arkham. Many are too dangerous to themselves and others to risk things being so normal as a typical visit with a nice, long couch and talk. I do hope you understand and I would please ask you to remain calm in this no doubt stressful time for you. Food will provided to you soon enough, provided we receive adequate co-operation on your part. We want to hope that you'll be healthy enough mentally to not harm yourself..."
He slowly closed the folder in his hands and placed it on the side table. He then knitted his hands together, summing up his best, sympathetic smile he could as he knelt forward, looking into her eyes, but even as sympathetic as he tried to express, the certain hint of maliciousness remained, "We're going to do everything we can for you...but before I have these restraints moved to a more liberating level of security, I am going to need your complete honesty to help us ascertain if this is a possibility. Yesterday, your eyes had an odd change and you spoke in a different dialect. Do you know why? And more importantly...who were you apologizing to? You were screaming about what seemed like several people trying to hurt you...tell me...who are they?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 8:20 pm
Rogue, Prisoner of Arkham  Rogue's eyes averted from Dr. Voltaire's gaze, firmly reminded of her previous deeds. A private shame would be evident, and took a few moments to compose herself before responding, "Ah've.... Dere's somethin ya haveta know about meh, Doc.... Ah can ... absorb people's memories and abilities but touchin dem. Dis power of mahne always knocks people out cold... hurts dem. Most of de time, Ah end up borrowing dere memories for a short while, but after de're up and movin again.... a piece of dem is left behind in mah head. It's dem that wants ta hurt meh for stealin dere lives."Marie had a shuddering breath, as tears began to fall again, "Ah've.... done a lot in my life dat Ah regret... Ah'm reminded of dat almost every wakin moment. And.... Dere are two dat Ah had absorbed .... dat never woke up. De first one was de first boy Ah kissed, a kid named Cody Robbins. Ah ran from home after dat, and den got found by another mutant. Mystique wanted meh for my abilities to use on everyone else. Which lead ta the other one Ah left comatose -- Carol Danvers aka Ms. Marvel. Mystique sent meh directly after her. When Ah attacked, Carol fought meh off so hard.... Ah ended up .... permanently absorbin her powers, memories and ... her soul...
"Ah think it was Carol you saw last night, after Ah shut down."
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Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 8:55 pm
Dr. Ralcon "Voltair" von Voltari
Rackon did his best to keep up with her, the heavy ascent at times hampering his understanding and almost cursed at her for it, but kept his composure. So the information provided by the police department was correct that she had a horrible contact power. The means of how it worked however were not clear enough. He debated whether or not he should test it or not on an inmate or one of his subordinates. He wanted to know just how deeply this power worked. If it was true what she said, then this was not just a normal case of bi-polarisms or split-personalities, several different beings were actually living inside her.
He was in the middle of those thoughts when she was shaking in her voice and tears were streaming as she told her tale. In that moment, for a reason unknown to Rackon, he felt pity and terrible empathy for her. He didn't make it a habit to be emotionally compromised by his patients, at least, compromises that he couldn't immediately get rid of, but for some reason his heart pinged with guilt. Instead of torturing one poor girl, he had tortured what might be a cluster of beings within her that were sharing her psychic space. Something about knowing this hurt him, people being harmed from actions he did not intend to harm many. It was not what he wanted.
For what might have been such a rare occasion, for once allowing himself to feel her pain, he cooed softly, "It's okay dear...it's alright..." His hand slowly stretched to her cheek, resting his hand to her to brush his fingers upon her to clean the tears, "You're going to be o--"
And it hit him. Like a train wreck, in slow motion, he felt a sudden paralysis upon his bare hand. Instantly he knew what had happened, his ungloved hand gracing her skin and his heart sank, watching as the veins along his arm pulsed and he could feel his walls breaking away. Fear rippled in him as he was unable to remove himself from her, the shock of the sudden action holding him in place. His eyes clamped shut as sudden, boiling images burned in his mind. Brief, hot flashes of his burly, tortuous father beating him in childhood, the cold hardheartedness of his first wife for his conditions and her psychological probing and the signs shifting into red as he rest over now a different woman, the look of shock and impossible fear in her eyes as his hands and her body were covered in cuts and blood, a kitchen knife held loosely in hand before he dropped it, crying out in horror at what he had done. More images of patients fluttered, brief pleasurable, sadistic memories of patients he'd tortured using the serum he acquired long ago in the black market, using it to good effect to exact his evil lusts and wrath.
In all these memories, the sounds of poetry that were dark and sadistic, of his own origin, burned like hot coals that were overlapping every trial, every mishap and every encounter, the tormented thoughts and words sometimes drenched in drunkenness, all up to and including his experience with Rogue.
And then abruptly it was over, hearing himself crying out in agony, a couple of his assistants having barged into the room to yank him off of her, freeing him from her grasp as sweat covered his features. His heart was loud in his head, as he knew instantly now what had occurred and he could only look up to Rogue, now undoubtedly aware that she had experienced the depths of his pains and sorrows, if not briefly, but worse, the truth behind this Asylum and his "treatment" were now exposed.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 12:11 pm
Rogue, Prisoner of Arkham Rogue received a flood of emotions and memories from her psychiatrist that seemed to become an overwhelming tide. Apparently, the doctor's plot was even much darker than the Lady X-Man thought. To Marie, Dr. Voltaire's memories seemed like he was 'Hyde' wrapped in the skin of 'Dr Jekyll.' The sheer depravity of his murderous sociopathy shook her to her core. Unfortunately, there was a terrible side-effect. Carol Danver's psyche within the Southern belle had been damaged by Dr. Voltaire's serum based on Scarecrow's gas. 'Carol' was effectively locked inside of her own personality by one of Ms. Marvel's enemies – Moonstone. Carol's personal demon suddenly seemed to have absorbed the knowledge skill set of the now absorbed Dr. Voltaire. However the truth is …. This new amalgamation was actually Carol believing herself to be her arch enemy. 'Moonstone' seemed to ease Marie mentally out of the way, as if she's done it many times before. As Marie herself seemed to twitch back into the ebon darkness of herself; cold, cruel ice blue eyes opened and began scanning the room. Moonstone saw the guards helping the psychiatrist out away from her, and she sighed. Then Moonstone spoke from Rogue's lips with an almost arrogant sneer, “In a few moments, you'll be back to normal... at least normal for you, Doctor. When you've composed yourself, come back and talk to me. And no, you won't be speaking with that piece of trailer trash, you'll be speaking to me. My name is Karla.”Rathenmedus I really do apologize for the very long wait. My brain finally came up with something unique out of several rewrites of this. I do hope you forgive my … continuing brain fart. And I hope you like my M. Night Shyamalan style twist.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 7:43 pm
Dr. Ralcon "Voltair" von Voltari
Rackon took several deep breaths, feeling light-headed and unable to think. His assistants helped him to the chair, resting him down as he gathered himself. Her words weren't lost on him, if not sounded distorted as consciousness began to clear and he stopped hearing his own heart-beat.
"You alright boss? You don't look to good."
"I'm fine..." Rackon growled lowly, slowly standing, though used the chair to support himself, his knees trembling, threatening to buckle and send him to the floor. The two goons tried to help him but he shoved them away, "I said I'm fine! Now leave...I've...I've got work to do."
Every breath was heavy in his cheat, laboring to get out. As time was passing, his physical form was getting stronger, but the excruciating pain of being briefly joined with Rogue still hurt him. With nothing else to do, the two goons slowly left the room, leaving him alone once more with Rogue, his eyes furious, glaring upon her, forgetting any emotional empathy he had before for her situation. As quickly as he had a heart, it was gone again.
Carefully with each step he took, he pushed the chair towards her, gradually bringing himself to her once more and turned the chair, pointing it's back to her and he sat into it, bracing his chest and lower body against it as he relaxed a bit more, though kept himself intent on her.
"Excuse me for not being at my best Karla..."
He looked deeply into those new eyes of hers. Eyes he had seen before, the eyes of the woman he loved. The woman he brutally murdered, stabbing her repeatedly in mental insecurity, having snapped out of fear of losing yet another person he loved. He would never forget the look of those eyes and for the moment, the boiling anger he felt kept him composed enough to not devolve into a raging fit at seeing those eyes.
"I assume you're who called me out yesterday...I thought your name was Carol?"Skuld HJG It's cool, I'm pretty patient when it comes to these things and I had other rps to work on in the mean-time. As for the twist, I'm not a fan of his work, though pulled off this twist well >:3
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 8:53 pm
Rogue, Prisoner of Arkham Rogue's face twisted in rage with ice blue eyes boring their gaze at the blond doctor. 'Moonstone' suddenly spat vehemently, "I AM NOT HER!!! Don't you dare compare me to that whore Danvers!!!! My name is Dr. Karla Sofen!!! You will pay me the proper.... !!!!" As suddenly as the verbal barrage started, Karla forced herself to stop yelling and closed her eyes tightly -- reigning herself in by forcing herself to take several breaths. When she opened her blue eyes once more, Moonstone was still glaring, her temper still at a simmer, "Considering that won't get either of us anywhere fast.... let's start again. I am Dr. Karla Sofen, a psychiatrist .... and I seem to be stuck in this body. Not exactly sure when this little river rat got a hold of me, but that is an issue for another time. 'Carol Danvers' seems to have been seriously marred by whatever was in that little experimental serum of yours. That and your memories seemed to tip the balance to my favor. As far as she is concerned, you needn't worry about her gumming up the works.
"Danvers and I are mortal enemies, and I want to be able to keep her under wraps and helpless. Fortunately, the Avengers do not seem to be around and we might be able to come to an understanding. To give you an idea, you can look up my record as both a psychologist and ... as a costumed criminal known as Moonstone. Subtle queries should be enough to view my ... much lamented penal lore and my exploits with the Masters of Evil without drawing the attention from the 'capes' from your world. And as Gotham does seem to present a multitude of opportunities with the only threat from a skilled yet unpowered man in a batsuit, I may be of assistance. Now, let's talk about masks."Rathenmedus And yes, Karla is evil as sin. twisted
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Posted: Wed Sep 24, 2014 12:12 pm
Dr. Ralcon "Voltair" von Voltari
It was official. This chick was bonkers. Out of her gourd. In debt for marbles. Coo-coo for coco puffs.
Racon struggled to keep the straightest face he could as she went on her rant, tossing out names and ridiculous organizations that he had never heard of. If she were any common woman to walk into his asylum, he would've written her off as a complete nutter and lock her in a cellar somewhere. Considering the circumstances however, he needed a more...permanent approach to dealing with her.
She, and her other personalities assumingly, now were aware of his torturous methods and his typical applications. He was not overly worried about himself, he had plenty of staff to take fault and to hide his serums in discrete locations. He was not afraid of her lips going lose to some authority, but what he was more worried about was Scarecrow or Black Mask finding out about it, neither of which would enjoy the attention and there would be a possibility, ever so slim, of it being tracked back to them by his purchases in the black market.
On a whim, he pulled out his cellular phone and started pressing keys, putting out a search on the names she gave, such as her self and those two organizations that sounded utterly ridiculous. Connected to his network, he was able to do a broad search for the rest of these names. Vague mentions of the Avengers and Masters of Evil has come up in police records, but nothing seemed solid of that. As for her Karla, nothing at all came upon on her name or her alias, of which he then turned to her, pocketing the device once more.
"This may seem very hard to understand Ms. Danvers, but, while you may think or feel certain things, you're not much more or much less than the young woman before me. Now, I can't say for certain, but if this...power of her's is able to extract people's memories and personalities...it seems very likely that you're no more than an a mere phantom. If you were a person, I suppose it'd be safe to assume you, as in, the real you, is dead somewhere...but...I'm also sorry to say that, I don't see you coming up anywhere on any criminal or legal database that I have access to. You're a mystery woman..."
Feeling his body returned to peak shape, his heart-rate finally coming back to normal and his blood pressure equalizing, he stood up from his chair, looking down at her as he placed his ina hands in his pockets, "As for our residential flying rodent, Batman, you highly underestimate him. There isn't a person alive yet that he hasn't been able to defeat or figure out how to overcome. He's a genius in every way. Being a sojourner, I don't expect you to understand, but your offer to help really only falls on deaf ears. Few can stand up to them and those who would, I doubt would have anything to do with...well...a woman daft out of her mind."
The door opened to the cell and Rackon, angry, turned around, not liking distractions until he realized it was his beautiful assistant, her normally well kept hair a bit messily done, a look of pleased fatigue on her eyes, just as he had left her, but apparently she had strength enough to work, which pleased him and he lightened up in seeing him.
"Forgive my interruption Doctor...you have a call from him."Skuld HJG Bahahaha xD By the way, I have an idea. Is anybody playing Wolverine and/or Cyborg?
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Posted: Mon Oct 27, 2014 10:46 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 13, 2014 6:36 am
Rogue, Prisoner of Arkham Carol/Moonstone stared back in slack-jawed shock and almost immediately started to shake her head, "No... No... That can't be true. I exist. I'm real. You ... must have been looking in the wrong place... I don't understand... I don't understand..."Moonstone's gaze fell downward, and Rogue's eyes changed to yet another shade... yellow. This time, a slightly accented German accent took hold. This voice chuckled slightly, "Ha... You've soundly dashed Danvers twice, Doctor. My complements."
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Posted: Wed Nov 19, 2014 9:56 pm
Skuld HJG Sorry for the horrible wait x_x Life has been less than pleasant lately
Ralcon's appearance shifted, looking back to see the dismay and confusion. He seemed pained, feeling a small hint of guilt in what he'd done. It was not his place to say she may not have existed or not or whether or not his theories were true. He should've known better, but it was enough. Perhaps enough to crush her and he turned back to his assistant, nodding once as he spoke, "I'll take it in my offic--"
And then he heard her words escape, but now in a new, German tone and he about spun on his heel, seeing yellowish eyes matching an odder voice and manner. The woman had changed personalities yet again and he could hardly understand just what was going on. Such division was virtually unheard of in such an odd case...and now somewhere in that noggin his own problems rattled around. How long until he would be talking to himself?
His body shook at the very though and ushered his assistant away, her expression a little more ruffled than anything, moving to the door but turned at the door to the other, new personality, and told them, whoever they are, "All in a day's work. Listen. I need to take a call, don't go anywhere...not that you can and I'll be back to discuss about...whoever you are."
And with that, he closed and locked the chamber, leaving his two helpers to guard the door as he paced quickly down the hall, his assitant hard pressed to follow him, clearly flustered but remained silent, knowing that it would be best not to disturb his thoughts before speaking to their superior...
============== Two Miles Out From Gotham
Abandoned Telecommunications Tower"You sure this' gonna work, rust bucket?Sharing space in a circular room, filled with breakers, computers and screens, sat the notorious Wolverine. Currently garbed in simple leather coat, denim jeans and boots, the short but strong mutant hovered over another, currently on his knees, Cyborg, as he was rummaging through parts, wires and different electronics. He was hard at work, clearly though seemed also annoyed, piping in response, "For the hundredth time, yes.The cybernetic creation, once a human, black male in his prime, Cyborg stood as a testament to the will of machines and man. Nearly killed, 70% of his entire body was replaced with cybernetics, allowed him to live. Most of his face remained human however, giving him human expressions while a single eye had to be replaced, glowing dimly as he looked down at the previously intimidating Canadian war-machine, of who's bones held merciless death, "And would you please stop calling me that?""I don't care much for sitting around." Wolverine replied, "Half my team is missing and I need help finding them. As we agreed, you're gonna help me do it."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. You don't need to remind me. If you had just explained things from the start, we wouldn't have had to fight each other. You might look into someone to help with your social skills."Wolverine, aka Logan, was currently having his arms crossed, not impressed with the lack of work. At the mention of help, he tilted a knuckle upward and six inch, thin blade shot out from the middle of his knuckles, clearly flipping the bird at Cyborg who, unimpressed, made a "tsk" noise and went back to work, reaching over control modules and switches. "Run me through again why we're here?"
"Well for starters, since you need reminding, Gotham's a big place." Cyborg started, his voice thick with attitude, clearly tired of interruptions, "You might run into your pals somewhere in the city. More than likely you won't and if they're as...flamboyant as you are, they'll have made noise. We're here to intercept some of it. We can''t chance being tracked back, so we're using this old tower to hook up to LAN connections as well satellite and radio signals. If anyone's talking about who you're looking for, my systems will catch it on log and we'll follow the leads.""You're assuming that they'll be mentioned. A lot.""Maybe..." Cyborg did concede, "But I don't know my way around Gotham, nor do you, if what you're telling me is true. This will be a much faster way of finding them.""We could be here all night..."
Cyborg finally rose from the machinery, lights of all kinds turning on, flickering and the sound of fans and gears whining. Connected to his right arm were a variety of probes and cords, these connected to the systems he was working with. In the view of Cyborg's eye, he was reading and shifting through news articles and data, websites and interlinks of all kinds; a very fast and word based system scanning everywhere it can for the locations of Logan's ally's. "Again...maybe, maybe not. We'll certainly see..."
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Posted: Sat Feb 21, 2015 10:41 pm
Rogue, Prisoner of Arkham 'Mystique' wearing Rogue's face half chuckled, "No worries, my dear doctor. I'll simply wait for you to return... I have all the time in the world..." After the doctor and his buxom assistant left, Raven's began to daydream about the couple -- finding both pleasing to her eye. However, the longer she waits, the more Raven notices the blank walls and the mirror. Mentally cursing herself for focusing on her drab surroundings, she needed to distract herself. Closing her eyes, it took the mutant a few minutes to clear her head. Then recalling a deep memory of living in Berlin attending a concert with a dear close friend. Raven imagined the 9th Symphony of Ludwig von Beethoven. The mutant firmly recalled the 'Ode to Joy' and began to tap her foot in tune with the performance from memory and began to whisper the lyrics.... (for reference. wink ) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBlQZyTF_LY
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