Welcome to Gaia! ::

Iden wasn't going to need ten minutes. He ducked behind one of the cells, and grinned like a beast. He was acting out of desperation, which made the dodge all the easier. He had nothing to hold back for, which meant Celerity was cranked.

Electricity crackled and whips snapped, but he was not standing near still enough. His movements were nigh impossible to track as he ducked back around the corner and lunged. The taser cracked past his ear, leaving the man holding it nigh defenseless as the vice grip latched around his wrist. Iden spun, whipping the man off balance and pulling him into the role of a meatshield. The other weapons thudded into the guard's back as Iden planted his boots on his chest, and kicked.

The man ragdolled through the group, knocking the other gunman's aim off. With a horrid crunch, his face met with the strange barrier that had cut them all off from the outside world. He crumpled, bleeding and unconscious.

The moment's pause say Iden moving to take the next shooter. Jackie was not slow as her underlings, however, and took Iden's shoulder with her favored whip. The snatch at the gun was successful, but Iden had not torn it free. With a snarl, he bounded backwards, through the rushing guards with their shock mauls, and shoulder checked the woman. With the sharp tug on his weapon pulling him off balance, the gunman tumbled forward, giving Iden the moment he needed to stomp the man's neck and snap up his rifle. There was no hesitation in clamping his finger on the trigger; celerity hasted his reactions to a fraction of the time it took any of his assailants to so much as turn.

Yet Jackie was quicker than he expected. The whip may have fallen from her hands, but in its place was a wicked looking pistol. The needlegun was lifting as Iden spun, and the first shot took the weapon from his fingers.

There was no time. Pure, utter desperation mandated a speedy reaction beyond what day to day combat would allow. His palms slapped at her hand and went for the throat...they would be struggling with each other, grappling for the advantage. He was strong, certainly stronger than she was, but she was nimble. It led to a stalemate for the moment, though he knew in time he could win.

Call Hellbane. CALL HIM HERE.

Brute force would push the two struggling people towards Iden's cell, where the crackling bars still hummed with electricity. ONE of the two of them was going to be fried in a minute, if things kept going.

I don't want him to HEAR me. I want to SEE him. Big difference, b***h.

He was being forced backwards. The sadistic jailer was far stronger than expected, strong enough to lock Iden in place and push him towards the bars. It had only been seconds...and now he was close to losing. Just an inch more...

The b***h would know that a boot hit her in the spine, and little else. Form of Mist was once again Iden's friend, though it left him staggering for the effort to plant his feet on her back and shove with everything he had. If she DIDNT fry...well, he'd be surprised.

The fact that Bane snuck up on Iden was...impressive. He was honestly taken by full surprise. True, crushing a good portion of Jackie's face had felt good, but the nails driven into his shoulder. But Bane was there, so Iden began to speak...in two different ways, meant for two different people.

You need better quality staff. Look at this...thing. I hope for your sake not all your people are incompetent like this...it'll make my job easier.

:: Roan, I know you're in here. For God's sake, tell me you can hear me! ::

I don't know why you're doing what you're doing, or how...but I will not be a puppet. I will, however...be a worker. A soldier. But never a slave.

Inhibitors were one thing, but they took at least a little time. The needle pistol was in Iden's hand, barrel pressed to his ribs. He would not let himself succumb, not yet.

I say you're full of s**t. You want a lab rat, you don't need to rob them of who they are. Science or no science, I'm not stepping into your lab to become a mewling little braindead puppet.

:: Oh God...Its me! Iden! Come on, Roan, you know who this is! ::

You want your incubator, whoop de do for you. But either I keep my feet, or you don't get s**t.

His arm was losing feeling. He was stalling, trying to buy time. Clenched teeth and bulging veins showed that he was fighting the restrictions pumped into his system, forcing himself to stand and hold steady.

At the least, give us the dignity of being somewhere other than a ******** ZOO.

:: Goddammit, Roan, they got me. I'm trying, but...come on, COME ON! STOP BABBLING! I need you to get out of here for the both of us! ::

But you know what? You're full of s**t. ******** you.

His fingers were twitching, but he had steady enough hands to let the needle gun fall to aim at Jackie's head, and squeeze the trigger. He kept squeezing, until his finger just would not move. The inhibitors were doing their thing, and for once...Iden just didn't have it in him to play the martyr, terrified though he was.

:: Please, Roan... ::

Next to Bane, the air seemed to shimmer. The light clacking of claws on the ground became the soft stepping of shoes. Where once was nothing, now Maximillian stood, in his full glory.

The scientists have been reading increased brain activity since he began speaking with you in the primary subject. I would advise they both be kept in shielded containment.

There was no preamble to the advise; Max was business first, as always. He continued to keep stride with Bane, even as additional input from his numerous sources fed through the strings that bound them all to him.

Perhaps the conditioning is not being thorough enough. Once again...I wish to request that more time be given to the project. This proves we are being to hasty in our assessments of the subject.

He displays remarkable tolerance to the weaknesses of his bloodline.

It was an offhand observation, a statement of the obvious more than anything else. Still, it was not his decision.

It is not my project that I am concerned for. The dead ones hold no interest to my own research. My primary concerns are the inherent instability the matriarch seems to display. I would rather see her terminated and use the younger blood than release her prematurely.

It was a subtle bait. He knew that ran counter to Bane's schemes, and the value Roan held. Despite this, it was an honest opinion; Maximillian was displeased with the haste in which the methods were being applied to strip the subjects of their resistance. It was not thorough enough. This was likely the single greatest source of contention between the two.