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Mörder hung his head low; his weakened body swinging side to side, whilst he hung by his arms. Coiled in a tight, almost constricting length of rope; tied about his chest and waist, chains holding his legs to the ground, and a muzzle strapped over his face. - His shoulder-length, layered, messy black hair, drooped in all directions down towards the ground; his sweat-drenched bangs covered most of his face, dried blood outlining the rusted metal on his mouthpiece.

He had been one of the most neglected prisoners aboard this ship...the crew had been planning to make him suffer as much as possible before delivering him to the gallows. - They had given him neither food, nor water for a long and ever-lasting four days.

Though Mörder had lived through worse...he knew that his escape from this place would be nearly impossible in his current condition. This air-ship was not as large or as guarded as any of the other prison-transportation-ships he had escaped from, but it was enough to imprison his broken body.

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Through his hazy thoughts, Mörder could but barely muster enough strength to lift his head but a few inches; enough for him to look towards the outside of his cell. (The cowards had left the door open always, so that the guards could come and beat him whenever they'd like. They figured that he would have no chance of escaping the burdens that had held him secure for so long.)

There seemed to be a man...doing what? - Mörder did't care...he seemed to have come from up above...he seemed to have announced to the group that his name was Hammond.

Hammond then cut Mörder down from his bindings.

something collided with another down the hall some place. Hammond moved onto the next cell before having drawn his pistol and aimed it down the dark hallway, the glow of his lantern casting shadows that danced on his face...the air-ship shook with a violent anger...they were under attack?~

With a groan, Mörder thought to himself: "Well...isn't that a pity.~" He would not only die in a God-forsaken place like this, but at the hands of another's foe. What a shame indeed.

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Mörder had not known it, but he had blacked out...how much time had passed since he was last conscious? - He did not know but Hammond lay dead on the ground, bullet wound to his chest, face down on the wooden floor. "You Stupid fool..." Mörder thought to himself.

He then looked up towards a stout/dwarf of a man with a ginger-colored beard. - Who was he?
Mörder used the last bit of his strength to lift himself to his feet; to his surprise, he had lost so much weight that the chains that once held him prisoner, slipped right off. He looked up towards the wooden beam that had been holding his body up. He jumped towards the wall, and then off of that unto the wooden beam. He then held onto it and climbed to the top, there lay a pathetic metal shank; that of which he had crafted before his first attempt of escape. still bloodied with the sweet~ memories of his previous victims...

He fell to the floor with a loud crash. - At this time, the ginger-bearded fellow seemed to had already left the area via the cargo door that seemed to have lead to his own ship.

Now that he was free from his bindings, he thought about removing his mouthpiece, but thought it best that nobody gazed unto the face of Death. Though this kept him from speaking, there was not much that Mörder had wanted to say anyway...at least not to any of the prisoners.

Mörder then met with the group of prisoners in the area between the two doors on the far sides of the room.

Just as this had happened, the room was stormed by a barrage of shouts, though one seemed to stand out. It had the eerily calm tone that he himself had used to lure victims in the past. "Come on guys, raid our stuff from the storage room and lets get going!"

Mörder smiled a toothy grin under his mask. He jogged behind the man along with a couple other prisoners and kept his shiv a secret. He quickly ran out of breath and had to slow down. - The man ahead of him from earlier had found the storage room and had grabbed a useless looking staff. - But he was never one to underestimate the simple killing machines.

"Come on guys, quickly. Tell me what you need and I will help you find it. No time to waste. We have our families to see as soon as possible, no?" He heard the man say again...

Of course, Mörder did not have a family...at least not anymore, but he did't seem to mind. He ignored the man and walked slowly to his satchel that had been confiscated when he was arrested...though his book of skin-slices had been burned upon arrival for having been considered a "crime against nature." He still held onto most of his belongings, equipping his old garb, removed his mouthpiece, being careful as to not let anyone see, pulling his bandanna up to cover his face once more, placing his curled-lip-hat onto his head and holstered his revolver.

He assimilated the make-shift shiv with his nano-tranz unit. Turning it into an incredibly, razor sharp dagger.

He then turned silently, and with a nod towards the man that reunited Mörder with his gear and to the dead-man that freed him, he left the ship using the same exit that the red-bearded dwarf had used. He strolled onto the neighboring air-ship and then up to the deck. Where he then collapsed from exhaustion against a wall, his hat tilting forward to cover his forehead.

Watching the guards pacing back and forth, watching them was making her even more pissed than before. "He is just looking down on us. . . Like we're pigs. . ." She grunted and baring her teeth.

"Oi! You got something on your mind!" The guard yelled at her.

Without realizing she gives a quick outburst. "Come on in here and fight me like a man! You little sh*t"

"what did you just say. . ." Glaring at her and opens the door stomping his wy towards her.

Smiling inside her head, she wanted to laugh at him. "watching the guard aggressively walk towards her was amusing." she thought glaring up at the guard. "like watching a little kid get mad after loosing a game. All red, and fuming."

" . . . heh, watching you walk towards me like that really is amusing, You're like a kid-" Stopping because of the guard grabs her head and pulling her up so he can get a better aim.

". . . You think hoisting me up will scare me. . . You are dumber than you look. I am amaz-""Shut the hell up!" The guard yelled as he gave her a good lick to her eye.

"Grch!!!. . . . " She slightly screamed out as the guard battered against her face.

Looking up at the guard with her icey glare she spoke once more not giving even the smallest grin.

"Heh. . .you call that? a punch? You're worse than that the other guard who tried to break me. . . you pitiful little сука."

Again, yet harder the guard punched her in the face and lunged at her as another guard held him back.

"She is not worth the time. Women like her deserves to be here, and rot." The guard said glaring down at her.

"Say what you want, for what I do, is for reason. . ." Cyrus says looking at the man as he ignored her and walked out in fumes.

"hmph. . ." She thought looking down staring at her bruised legs. "I just want my father's journal. . . " Still thinking, she unconsciously rubs her thumb on the rusty cuffs that held her down. Remaining silent as some of the others stared at her for taking such a beating. She looks at them and grimace "and what are you looking at exactly. . . " watching the others shake their heads and turn away, Cyrus starts to think of ways to break the cuffs on her wrists. Looking over her shoulder and down at the rope that binds her wrists together. "Damn it. . . ."

Suddenly hearing the loud screech of sirens. She quickly looks up seeing nothing but a bit of confusion. Quickly reacting she uses all of the strength she had pulling her hands apart trying to break the dastardly rope. "This is a chance to get out of here!" She thought with a pinch of joy and yet no hope.


Suddenly a man cuts the rope free. "There. . . go raid your belongings from the storage unit and hall a*s!" Not having to tell her twice, she runs down the halls and a flight of stairs with the other prisoners. Watching some fight the guards off, she knew there would be no time to play around. "It's either them or me. . . and I am not risking my life for others. . not at this moment."
Quickly, she starts to throw things aside and finds "Mask", "Dracula", and her father's study journal.

". . ." Grabbing her belongings she gets up and turns to see the guards starting to pull people out. "Damn it!" Taking out two syringes and spinning them rapidly in her hand she hides herself for a slight second trying to find a weak spot to inject the syringes in. "That armor in impenetrable. . . . . .Eye muscle it is then." She thought to herself with pleasure, admitting to herself that it was nice to fight back again, and that it was nice she didn't feel so lightweight, not that she has her faithful companions at her side. Running and injecting the two syringes into the guard's tear ducts, and hops onto the other ship looking back. " . . . . . " Seeing the guards stunned there and frozen made her want to smile, but there's no point in smiling now. Not yet. .

Realizing the pain she was in from the bruises, she does her best not to limp towards a empty room. After closing the door, Cyrus throws her things down against the wall to try and keep it a bit clean. "Finally, some rest. . . " She said, yawning in delight. "Maybe I could. . . Go back. . . .and-" Without realizing she fainted from exhaustion and fell asleep.

Eris was kneeling on the ground, she was looking down her rose curls scattered around her face and shoulders dried blood crusted around her lips. Prior by a few days she was on her feet, her arms still above her head, forcing her to stand when ever a guard perverted as most of the guards were, they had put their hands over her body, this disgusted her, so she kicked the last guard with her metal boots, he wasn't to happy about that, another guard came in and saw the guard on the floor and he took a full force fist to her stomach, slapping her face as well. "That should teach you not to react to your keeper wench… " before forcing her to her knees her placed his thick hand around her throat pulling her face so her could see her eyes. "well we know why your in here your eyes tell me that you some kind of freak…. or machine infected human…. it's truly disgusting even having you on here as our prisoner…. only if…. i could…." throwing her to the ground he spat near her and left. Not even attempting to lift her head, she bit her lip to stop the tears, all her life thats all people thought of her as…. a freak… she quickly stopped and sighed closing her eyes drifting off to sleep

She had not had water in at least a day so when she awoke many hours later , her throat burned like hell. It was a punishment she supposed for kicking the guard, she smiled but she felt so drained, often she would wake up to pretty much any type of banging or opening of doors but as of the last few days she slept more then normal, she couldn't even tell what time of day or night it was that's how much she slept, nothing else to do, other then that, be harassed by the guards or watch the others, she had another person in her cell, but she didn't try to make conversations with him or any body really whats the point' she thought closing her eyes, again.

This time when she awoke it almost made her jump, sirens and an alarm was going off, trying to stop her heart rate she looked at her restraints as she pulled her self up falling a few times, so she moved until her back hit the cell wall, she placed her feet together and pulled again but putting even greater effort into standing up, by her 5th attempt she finally was stands but her legs felt they were going to give out so she leaned on the wall catching her breath, heavily painting she could see a dim yellow light starting to fill the prison hallway, a man came into view she shuddered at his expression, "It's almost time to go…" was what she caught at the end of his words. carefully watching as he went to each cell checking on them as if making sure they weren't going to try anything. she stood up moving closer to the door kicking it a few times, to knock out the bolt that held the door shut, she was attempting to kick tit again but he opened the door, he had removed her restraints, rubbing her worn out wrist softly she walked to her cell door, and peered around to see the man who opened the cell door and cut her bindings, he was speaking to another of the prisoners all she could make out was being said, she heard a gun shot and saw the mans body fall to the ground, his blood pooling around him quickly she was about to turn back to stay in her cell when she felt a warm hand tug on her wrist, before she could react she was being dragged into a clear room along with another.

Bewildered at what was going on she simply stared at the man then she smiled to him, inclining her head to him as to say thank you. She waited until the gun fire had stopped but stayed behind the man, fooling his gaze as she watched him peak his head out, to another room, she followed, as he cheered loudly, she smiled and joined in. "Yes!!! now we can get out stuff." she chimed in laughing a bit happily.

Carefully looking around to see if her weapons were under or put aside, she instantly found her rose gold dual guns, picking them up she inspected them carefully making sure they were not dinged or dented in any way, she smiled, playfully she pointed them at a metal podt not shooting them but to see if they had even fired, 'No.. looks like all is good with these babies.' she smiled again, , Now she had to look more carefully for her other weapon, shouldn't have been that hard its freaking an 8ft gatling gun., there seemed to be another room beyond the on they were in, she stepped through and her eyed widened waving the other two over quickly. "It's a gold mine of weapons" she was to excited she giggles and finally found her Gatling gun, placing her Sakura guns on a table, she began to inspect every inch of the gatling gun's body, making sure nothing was out of place or taken. she was satisfied with the results. She then noticed on the same table all of her other equipment were there as well, she grabbed her gatling gun and swung it over her back, hooking it to her corsets metal holder, then took the straps and placed them between her chest to secure the gun's weight. next she took her belt that held all of her bullets and other accessories for each of her weapons, she then reloaded her pistols and placed them into the holders of her boots. Then picking up her hat, placing it on her head with her hair now up only a few curls now framed her face. She grabbed a few jugs ands canteens of water, ,walking past the other's until she came out to the hallway, she saw the dwarf and the one who shot the weird man, she followed them until she came to another ship, placing down the jugs of water, she began to hand the other prisoners the canteens hoping this would get their strength back.

It was the noise that woke him. A sort of commotion... Ykraïn heard it from afar, but kept his eyes closed, and his breathing steady: in case someone was watching, he preferred to keep the advantage of surprise. He took in his surroundings, although it was hard to hear anything over the racket that was going on outside. When he felt safe, Ykraïn opened one eye. It took some time to focus, and his vision still was not clear. He cursed himself for letting them drug him...

The room he was confined in was very narrow, and he barely had room to move around. No shackles were restraining him, from what it seemed. Still without moving, Ykraïn proceeded to check his body. He felt the clogs in his neck, his spine clicked, his tail and legs ticked, all the way to his toes. Then back up again to the head. Something felt odd. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He did the check again...
Then it struck him. And he howled. Long and fierce. The wings. Those bastards took his wings. Nothing seemed damaged though, and it seemed they just snapped them off. Still, it was time to move...

However, putting his thoughts into acts appeared far less easy. He stood up on his legs, wavered and fell back to the ground. Curse the drugs. Ykraïn slowly turned around, which appeared challenging since he had little room to maneuver. Once this was done, he breathed hard to ventilate the air vessels in his body, down to the different pouches that held his personal vapors. Then the dizziness faded, and he felt much better.
Light was clearly outlining a door in front of him, however he would be far too large to fit through in his current state. So he decided to use his void pouch to reconstruct himself downsized. He was still bigger than a human by half, but at least he could move around more freely. He realigned is back scales to form a good shield, one that would protect him physically as well as redirect light to stun people.

Once done, he slammed through the door and ... slammed on the floor. It seems those bastards planned it all... This door was reinforced from the outside of his cell, and it seems whatever it was had been done with skills. He could not use fire lest the metal in his body would melt. However, he knew what to do. He rearranged his foreleg to shape it as his Firesword: the blade was made of metal, and it was heated so that any metal that it would touch would then melt. He used it to cut all around the door, then slammed through.

Ykraïn found himself in a big hall. Cells lined up around, and it seems people were once held captive here. He could smell their flesh, although it was becoming hard to discern it from the one of burnt blood. Stupid humans, he thought, what reason did they invent this time to slaughter each other....
Stairs at one side of the hall were obviously leading out on the deck, but he did not care for that now. He needed to find her. So he marched in the other direction, through a door which led to the cabins corridor, in hope of finding a guard. He found it weird that no guard were guarding this prison, and thought there might be other cells in the ship, where the guards would be. Maybe since he was drugged, they did not think useful for him to be guarded, maybe there were guards but they went outside to battle. In any case, it did not matter.

His thoughts took him at the other end of the corridor without meeting a soul. He was standing still at the end, when he heard a creak. Fast as lightning, his tail pinned the poor guy to the nearest wall, then he swung around and brought his head close. The little poor excuse of a guard was now pinned between his claws, and almost peed himself. Or herself as it turned out. Ykraïn saw fear in her wet eyes, as they moved relentlessly left and right. Sweat was beginning to drop from her chin on the back of his paw.

Where is she? asked Ykraïn in his deepest voice, sounding like thunder.

I... I... please... it... I... don't...

Ykraïn sighed. Always the same routine with humans... He brought his face close to hers, bared his teeth wide and shouted

WHERE ... ARE ... MY ... WINGS!!!!!

The guard's helmet was knocked over from the shock, and the guard herself stood paralyzed between the claws.

ANSWER ME, HUMAN!

I... don't... please... they... took... away... just a guard... please... dunno...

Tired of waiting, Ykraïn brought his claws together around the now bare head of the guard, and crushed it quickly. The sound of cracked bones echoed in the empty corridor, and blood splashed on his perfectly polished gold body plate.
As he brought his paw down, the headless and lifeless body came down with it. Useless humans were better off dead...

Ykraïn walked back the empty corridor. It seemed he had no choice but to join the fight on the ship deck. This thought filled his metal jaw with fuming liquid, and lit his eyes fire red. He cursed himself for being drawn into this, as his steps echoed loudly around him.

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Gunnar's eyes fell on the small woman with rosy curls and smiled warmly at her. "We'll be okay," he promised to both her and the other girl he grabbed by the waist. His voice came out smooth and calming even though his heart was going insane. Louder, louder, it felt like everyone could hear the beating of his heart, even though he knew they couldn't. At this time he was actually happy that one of his few skills was convincing people of things that not even he believed.

When the gunfire stopped, he darted into the room and retrieved his equipment before beginning to help others get their equipment. A few people seemed injured from the gunfight from before. Those were the people he helped first so they would not have to move too much by themselves. He was in a hurry, but he kept a smooth flowing motion so he would not worry the others too much. Even when the shrill cry pierced through his body like a spear, he only hesitated for a moment. "Come along guys, do not worry. I am sure it was just a malfunction in a ship so it should be fine."

When the thumping of movement was heard down the hall, followed by the sound of a blade, Gunnar had to steel his nerves. "Okay guys, get your stuff quickly, okay?" Moving away from the pile of equipment he hid behind the door for a moment and just listened. A long moment passed before the small ship revved up and the lights flicked on. Just then a beast of a human burst through the threshold and ran for a woman about to leave. His body seemed to have been almost carved up by the amount of stitches he had running throughout his body. As soon as the thing passed Gunnar he twisted his body full force and connected his staff with the mans shins. He could hear the crack of a femur breaking as the enemy slammed into the floor. Bringing the staff high he brought it down onto the head of the man. He went out like a light. Letting out a deep breath, he looked to the rest. "I'll protect you. Hurry up though, okay? I believe in you guys."

Running out the door, he went a few feet from the door and saw dozens of people in morbid decay in combat with others or being shot at. Almost as soon as he came out a good three men came charging at Gunnar. "Shi-" he started as he brought his staff up to block a swing of ones sword. Slamming his foot against the enemy one's chest, he forced himself back in time to narrowly avoid the second ones dagger aimed for his head. Sadly, he was not fast enough to completely avoid a slash to his left arm by enemy three. The cut wasn't deep, but it sure as hell was painful.

Reeling back, the man pinned his own back against the wall in an attempt to escape. It was hard work, but grabbing a small vial of strange white liquid from his pack, he jabbed it in a small hole in the center of his staff and barely made it in time to block a second strike from enemy one. It felt like minutes passed as he deflected the blades with staff and hand alike but it was mere seconds. Then, finally, a shrill whistle sounded from he ends of his staff. The noise distracted the enemies just long enough that he managed to push off the wall while slamming the staff into them. "Sorry" is all he could say before he pressed a button on the staff. Swinging it with all his body a jet of steam pushed out the end of the staff and propelled it extremely fast. Slamming into the legs of the trio he could hear sickening cracks as their bones shattered from the force. They fell to the ground and he quickly discharged them with quick whacks to the head.

By the time the fight with completely over only around half a minute passed but the last few people managed to escape the room and were running to the ship. He caught up to the group and ran beside them. Every so often one of the people got too close, but they were so simple minded he managed to hold them off long enough to let his allies continue.

When he got near to the ship a group of five of the enemies jumped at Gunnar. He was able to block three of the attacks before one managed to slice at the leg of Gunnar. It cut deep enough that he was unable to bear his own weight completely and fell to the ground. As the last one came down on him to finish the job, Gunnar pulled his staff up in a panic and hit the button. The front of the staff extended at extreme speeds for a few inches and slammed into- no, through his chest. Mist sprayed outward and the body fell limp as he pushed it aside off his body. His heart was going insane as sweat fell from his body and mixed with blood. Forcing himself back, he tried to fend off the remaining attackers, but they were relentless. If someone didn't help him he would die without fail. "Help me!" he shouted in his head.


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Amadeus heard the stamping of feet and scuffling of battle outside and turned his head, huffing heavily with a whine at the end of each heaving breath. He looked back towards the open door on the ship, a few barrels lined up along each side of the ship. Outside, he could see the young man from before fighting desperately along with the others. He was too fatigued to join into the fight and shuffled along on hands and knees. He pulled the ball out of his coat and pressed a few buttons on the side, clenching it in his hands tightly before pressing a button. The ball's projector flared to life and generated a barrel around his person. He turned and fell onto his hip, touching his back to the barrels behind him and curling his legs up inside of the projection. He condensed himself down a bit more and hit another button before letting his legs lean against the now solid barrel. He eased and let out a sigh, tilting his head to the side and holding the ball a bit tighter. He would be out of danger for a while. At least he hoped so.