Welcome to Gaia! ::

*Hours ticked slowly by. One by one the amount of people in the town hall dropped. Name after name was called and each rose to go and vote.
Mothers took their children with them, and none came back into the hall. Assumably after voting everyone went out the back to prevent discussing the hospital and biasing those that had not yet seen the plans.

To Yalda, it all seemed a little strange. At 25, she'd visited some of the other towns and villages around Syria, and hadnt ever come across such a system before, even when studying the richer european countries and their so heralded democracy that didnt seem to ever get as far as the peasant folk. Still, they hadnt outlawed hunting here yet and tomorrow... Sargon would likely visit her again with another convenient haunch of meat to share, and maybe this time she'd let him have the pleasure of an answer to his pleas for marriage. He was a sweet man, and she got on with his mother.

That did not however solve the question of the blasted vote she'd let herself get roped into. Sargon, Sabeen and a few other families werent present, and with her name so far down the alphabet, it;d be early hours of the morning before she ever got out of here. Who had a vote in the early evening then took so long about it everyone was up well beyond sensible hours?
She had a meeting at 8am with the scientists lodged out in the woodland by the lake. They should have reached a decision by then about whether they would market the antivirus they were working on through the company she now worked for, but her boss had been adamant she stay in town while he negotiated with the foreigners and see her family. She was going to turn up exhausted to the meeting, but it couldnt be helped.
If this hospital went ahead, maybe it would be the first to successully cure HiV. That would be incredible, and she would be part of it. For that, a few more hours was ok....

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So many names left. Mica sighed, and ran his finger down the list, bored. His pager went off again and he lifted it, scanning the message on it. Sven confirmed the elders hadnt been helpful, Cora had found another nest to invade with no answers and Lisa was complaining she was beginning to get cold again... Alphabet be damned.
Eyes scanning the gathered mass, he started looking for any clue as to who may be able to tell them what they ALL wanted to know, so they could ENJOY themselves. It was pain itself to watch so many delicious lips, ears, cheeks, noses, fingers all walk past him and NOT be able to indulge.

Two men in suits. Names on their coats. He called them next, breaking the alphabetical order. Questions poured in for his reason, and he merely placated without answering. WHo complained loudest? What were there names? Try them next, pushy lot. Used to getting their way, thus, more likely to know more than they should.
Mothers with children came to complain next, and a woman who was saying something about a meeting in the morning.... interesting.*

You next, THEN I'll call the mothers.
Why? That makes no sense...
You are a business woman, correct? Your name and company?
Yes, I am. My name is Yalda. I work for Cyric Pharmaceuticals. What's that got to do with anything?
Your input will be greatly valued as you may know more of the field. If you can spare you attentions while you are still fresh and awake, I will make SURE the little ones and their mothers can go next.
... alright.
Thank-you for your time and patience. If you would like to go through Yalda, my colleague is waiting.

*Mica smiled charmingly, his eyes managing a warmth his predatory heart did not feel, save that he prayed she knew the answers... how he wanted to enjoy the bounty around him. Let her be the one... Bane be praised, let her be the one to end this charade...*

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*The man with the register creeped her out, full stop. Yalda didnt know what it was about him. Maybe just the fact he didnt seem to care about how tired and irritable the children were, and was putting business before human welfare. Some hospital representative. Still, if her going first would get the little ones out sooner, so be it.
Any niggling doubts she had were outweighed by that noble goal as she went through the door into the back rooms, which closed ominously behind her.

Why was she so jumpy? She knew this building well enough, and this was a mere vote. She was being silly. Walking calmly forwards, forcing herself to stop thinking about the dim halls, and the damp, hot smell coming from up ahead, she went towards the only door with light spilling out of it.

Blood. Stopping just before she touched the door handle, she blanched. She knew that smell. The hot, humid and metallic stink of freshly spilled blood. And lots of it. The nurse in her was shocked at how she locked up. Someone was hurt! She had to help! But her primal brain... THAT knew things werent right at ALL. She was in danger. But.... she had to help!

There was a tale in the west of a container that had gone down on a motorway. Spilling its load across all three lanes of traffic, it was a miracle no one had driven into the back of it, but a nurse had seen it happen, and saw the driver hanging dangerously in his seat belt, alive and moving. Stopping her car, she'd leapt out and ran towards him....
Until her feet started to dissolve.
The container had been carrying corrosive materials and she had ended up a bilateral amputee. If she'd looked before she ran, she would have seen the warning on the back of the container that it was corrosive and noted the other drivers car wheels melting.
Look before you leap...

Yalda backed up into the store room opposite. There was no noise coming from the room ahead. Whoever had bled so badly was either dead or unconscious. And the woman in there had not come for help... unless it was she who was hurt, though Yalda couldnt imagine why. She distrusted the strangers, and settled on them being the cause. If she ran in now, she could put her own life in danger. What to do?

The decision was made for her. A strong hand curved up over her mouth from behind, another arm, stronger than its small frame, pinner her arms to her side as it curved across her chest and she was pulled back against the strangers chest.*

Clever girl. Now, lets see you use those smarts to stay very quiet and walk nicely for me into the room across the way for a little chat. Fight me, and you'll be lucky to die quickly.

*Alison smirked. So far, they'd been like lambs to the slaughter. This one showed some smarts though. She might know where their prey was. Pushing fingers into Yalda's pressure points as the woman started on instinct to fight, Alison forced her across the way and into the 'viewing' room.

Corpses were stacked floor to ceiling against the far wall, the smears of blood leading from the door to the pile, where the pool of blood was getting bigger by the minute as the cadavers leaked from the neat wounds in the back of each neck where the killing blow had been struck.

A chair sat between this and the door, and it was to this Alison forced Yalda, pushing the woman down into the chair roughly, keeping one hand over her mouth.
Tendrils of shadow covered her, tying her down, then shadow crept backwards from the 'head' of the elites, shrouding the walls and door of the room, shutting them in, everyone else out, and rendering the space soundproof. Only then did Alison let go of Yalda totally and step back, folding her arms.*

WHAT THE HELL?! Who are you?! Let me up! YOU KILLED THEM!

*Alison looked at her watch, then leant forwards slowly, smiling*

Yes, I did. Shout as much as you like, no one will hear you. YOU didnt hear any of them after all, did you?
...What are you?
My goodness you ARE smarter than the rest of this backwater shithole... I am something you cannot possibly comprehend. Suffice it to say, I have it within me and my partners to kill every single person in this unimportant little back water if I dont get what I want.
Why? What did we do to you? My friends... my neighbours...
We're looking for a group of scientists. They have something we want. Tell me where they are and we'll spare the rest of the village. Deny me... and I promise you, you'll scream as the rest did before I kill you.
...as you said, I did not hear them. I am not afraid of you, b***h. You MURDERER.

*Alison smiled, then grinned*

Not an immediate denial of knowledge... how interesting. I would advise you my little kick in life is pressure points. More speifically, PAIN points.
You may have noted on the dead gits behind you, most had their elbows broken. On top of that, many have broken collar bones, crushed genitalia and broken feet. It may not sound that bad to you right now, but I'll give you one last chance to tell me what I want to know, before I start applying practical ********. You.

*Alison smiled, and closed in*

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*Pain. All Yalda could think about was the AWFUL pain. Burning through her body, all she COULD do was scream, despite her desire to make it stop by talking.
Both her elbows were broken. That had come AFTER having the pain of her joints being abused, collar bones depressed and ligaments manipulated from without.
The woman doing this to her had barely seemed to TRY as she touched spot after spot, grinding fingers into her kidneys until Yalda had wet herself while screaming, shivering with pain and wondering why no one came. Some vague hope had kept her from talking... until now.
She could see her own bones moving under her skin as Alison manipulated her arms, and she knew she'd give in as soon as she could.*

STOP! Please!
Ruin my fun... alright. Talk to me. Spare the dear little children the same.
...there's a lodge. Out by the lake. It has no trail to it. That's where they are. Please... please leave us all alone...
Good girl.

*Alison reached over and snapped Yalda's neck, dispassionately watching her gurgle away her life as she reached for her pager*

Target location acquired. Move on lake side, find the lodge. Mica and I will meet you there.

*Watching it translate her message to text, she then walked out to join Mica, laying a hand on his shoulder as everyone looked up*

We got them. Hole this lot up and lets move. We can come back for them.
With PLEASURE.

*Mica grinned as stood. Shadow lashed out of him, beastial dogs rising from the darkness to guard the doors as the shadows blocked people in. Screaming, shouting, running, none of it helped. There was no way out. Sliding through the murk like sharks, Mica and Alison left, Mica licking his lips at teh thought of returning to the hall sometime soon.... so many tasty treats...*

The guest of honor. That's what they were calling it. The term was a bit of a misnomer to the scientist in Maximillian. Guest? This was little more than a cadaver, torn open from numerous wounds and long bereft of the warmth of life. Maybe once, when it was a proper human, this body would have presented an interesting case study for antiquity and eccentricity for the dispassionate scalpel of the scientist's mind. But as it lay unmoving on the research table, ringed by doctors subjecting it to the newest strain of numerous viruses. The men and women of the necrotic studies lab were outdoing themselves; reanimation was a specialty. This battered and abused corpse would see use still.

But that did nothing for Maximillian; his studies were the human condition. Life itself was his purview: he studied it, tested it, sampled and claimed it for himself...and ultimately, he created it. With godlike dominion over all that was his own, he crafted wondrous and beautiful things, and studied the finest examples of mankind the world could offer.

Yet, even now, the lifeless husk had some modicum of worth to him. There had been something, a wisp of a soul clinging to the flesh. It had fled when he had begun to weave his arts of entrapment; it was long since dissipated to whatever life awaited it beyond. But the fact that such a thing lingered so long past death was remarkable; this subject may have been truly worth the attention. Were it only that he could have found it in life.

In the dark recesses of his own home, the immortal mortal sighed, and stared down the crested snout of the dragon's skull helm the latest subject had worn. At the least, the armor had been of note; he felt powerful and ancient magics in the craftsmanship. This was a quality he could admire, as a mage and a weaver of fine creation. Bane had no interest in such things; old plate was outdated and useless in the modern world, to his sensibilities. It was expected of a living contagion...the ancient blight evolved rapidly as the world around him; he would no doubt share some sense with the technology of the times.

Bane...the Hellbane Angel. Maximillian was unimpressed with the man. His resources were invaluable, his sponsorship a blessing from God alone, yet even so...so much was squandered by Bane's rampant desire. He was no scientist, no doctor. Many fields of his study and development were stunted from their full potential. Why? Because Bane was subject to base desires. The need for hasty results, the perverse pleasures he drew from with each new victim his contaminants claimed. So much passion...so much wasted.

It was this passion that made him so malleable, however. And so, Maximillian's eyes eased shut. The latest samples of the butler's blood were being turned over, and the newest genetic samples of his own creation were engaging in an initial field test. Bane's facility was useful, though small it was in comparison to the dispassionate craftsman's empire of study and manipulation. The ancient angel could eyeball his manager of human resources as warily as he liked. It changed nothing. Science would carry onward, ever inevitably, whether Bane liked it....or not.

*Cold darkness. So soothing. A refuge.

Until the dreams kicked in. Where was she? What had happened? It was like her only chronicle of her recent past was understandable in dream....*





























*....betrayal. Confusion. Pain. Even unconscious, there was no respite. Shivering, the captive matriarch ejected the desire to wake. As bad as her dreams were... reality was much much worse...*

*She;d woken. She knew she had at some point, that she;d been moved again, but as ever memory was blurry and out of sequence.

What news? She'd had to let Iden's soul go. SHe could feel the hollow in her body, the LAST link to her LIFE... gone.

So easy to give in... so easy...No. Never. Iden had sent her away to get better. The memory of him was enough. They couldnt eradicate the blue haired stubborn kid from her memory, he was too much a part of her life and just thinking of him, nay SEEING him on teh screen failing to find her, which SHOULD have discouraged her... instead gave her hope and strength. She hid it though.

An automaton when she had ot be, in the darkness of her cell, she fought back. She knew the new Bane virus was working on undead now. The Grunny virus had been combined. Soon, her own condition woudl be the melting pot for a brand new horror, but she ALSO knew Bane still hadnt managed to make it airborne. That meant she had some time.

Despair filled her in that she doubted she'd EVER get to return to her old life, but... she wouldnt forget. She would NEVER forget her boys.

Corbin.
Iden.
Azrael.
Zach.
Menace.
Reign.
Yoachi.
Jan.
Roen.
Gabriel.

Iden. The human undead.*

He has taught me as I taught him... I will not let you down... my sons. My friends.

*She closed her eyes and gathered her strength as parts of her body rebelled with the latest atrocities flowing through her veins. Sadness at her loss drew tears from her eyes and she LOOKED broken. But inside, a kernal of strength gathered where a soul had once sat, and remainined there, protected. A fail safe.

Beyond that... there was only the enforced service to Bane she had no choice about. The NGF treatment was scarily effective*

The first thing he knew was the edge on his thoughts. That was what brought him to. Almost immediately, he was on his feet, with his eyes shot open and his hands reaching for his thigh. The holster was empty, however. Bare fingers brushed across empty leather where the ROMAN should have been. Quietly, he cursed...something was pounding pain through his arm. He winced and fell back against the wall, feeling the spikes torn through his arms and legs.

It was a sudden realization of his situation. He was in a small, claustrophobic room with a glass pane for one wall. Metal shards...no, pins, were rammed through his limbs. The familiar tingling identified it easily enough; haemox had been forced into his body. Wherever he was...he was a prisoner. They had underestimated him, though; with a sudden lunge, he rammed into the glass. He had some strength yet, and haemox was only a minor inconvenience.

Yet the glass pane held. Swearing at the renewed throbbing that coursed through his skull, he shifted back, and bit off a harsh curse. Last he knew, he had been in the mansion, defending Roan in the shrine...now, he was here...

Now he had to wait. Anger was one thing, but he was locked in a place he could not escape from. Better to bide one's strength...

Iden stared out the window with some mild hostility. So these were his captors...he recognized one from the mansion. That alone warranted INSTANT hate. Worse, when the screen came...

His jaw dropped, and veins began to bulge. He recognized both test subjects. His teeth began to clench and grind, before he smirked. The jargon they were feeding him was more than just cheesy.

Alright. Lemme get this straight. No disciplines, no mental shenanigans...so who's summer camp is this?

His eyes were fixed on the screen, cold and driven. Iden was dead set on not being reduced like Roan was...more importantly, he was dead set on bringing some hell to earth for her condition.

Hellbane. Alright. Tell Hellbane I'll enjoy seeing him burn. Call the guard, I wanna welcoming committee to greet me properly.

It was all he said, before he reached his arms across one another, curled his fingers around the metal pins holding haemox in his system, and ripped them free. Next came the ones in his legs...but those were used to start smashing the glass. Iden was hungry; not empty. More importantly, until he WAS empty, he had no intention of sitting back and letting them have a new project to tinker with. And no glass, no matter how strong, was going to be his cage.

Bars. They thought metal bars would block his path. Another hammerblow with the haemox spike as his digging tool or two and the glass would be holed...then he would be out. Protean; form of mist. Before he could be stopped, he was out of his cell and crouched, waiting for the guards. His eyes were darting, watching and taking in the scene.

Nothing, yet. THat was good. Iden darted between the cells and moved forwards, seeking an access out. But then...contact. Five people, one of which was the woman who called herself "Jackie". It brought a smirk to his face...they were well equipped. Menacing weapons, both projectile and melee, were carried by the whole team. He smirked, and ducked back between cages as the floor ran red and some shimmering...something went up, sealing them all in together.

Two melee fighters, two gunmen, one leader. Piece of cake. Iden had himself, the haemox spikes, and a will to live. It would be enough. He smelled the stink of ozone...electrified weapons would be a hazard, to be sure, but Iden openly refused to give in.