Welcome to Gaia! ::

Coming to, these three Legends find themselves in a stark white room. White ceiling, white walls, white floor, white fluorescent lighting.
Cut into one wall is a huge mirror, it's purpose unknown.

The door, unsurprisingly white, is locked. There is no key to be found, but in the ceiling above the three boys are four vents, each large enough to fit a person, but suspended out of reach, and each connected to a different ventilation shaft.

How will Ink, Loki and Phace react?

((I appologize if this isn't great. I'm a little scatterbrained at the moment. Maybe a minor cold, but I don't want to hold up the meta. ))

The boy hadn't been quite sure what to think when he was plucked up out of the park. He'd been with his older brother at the time and left alone only a moment. Revon had been off to request something of the guardian only briefly, it was obvious someone had been watching. Not that the boy had been able to do much. He was still mastering the art of getting around the house. So being plucked up and carried off hadn't been preventable. Not to mention the fact he didn't realize it was bad at the time, nor did he now for the matter. Certainly the concept of kidnapping someone wasn't something a child his age would understand. They hadn't been too noisy or hurt him, so it was just fine.

Until they'd dumped him in this room, a boring room. No music at all. There had been two other people, but the child didn't know them and was more inclined to draw the staff he'd been dropped of with closer rather than to near them. They didn't make music either, not at all like his brother. Nor the business woman who sang so clearly before the red-head brought him to the place where music box resided. As well as the hell machine.

Oh yes. He didn't like the machine. If anything was good about this room it was that there was no music machine in sight to upset the voices. When the voices were quiet Phace was far more at peace and willing to look at things calmly. Thus sitting in the room wasn't too bad. Quiet people... sorta. One was talking. He still didn't understand it much, but he seemed amused? Laughter meant he was amused correct? The child frowned trying to figure it out. He really didn't get it, but he wasn't making music so he wasn't so interesting.

With that out of his mind the infant glanced up trying to figure out just where he was. Tooooo white. Nothing out of the interesting. No shining like the warm thing, no sound to catch his attention. Not much at all. That was... until he noticed the mirror. The boy blinked curiously at it a moment before dismissing it. He'd seen them before, nothing too odd. Reflection thingies weren't dangerous. So what was there to do?

Sit and wait for red-thing to come get him. Or music box. Whichever came first. He didn't know the two goldy-blonds. So why take much interest in them? The voices weren't saying to, or hinting. It was quiet and peaceful for the young feline child. That's what it took to keep him at peace.

"I dinnit say trapped, fairy boy, I said locked up." Ink snorts and narrows his eyes at Loki, clearly remembering him as well. He presses his back against the wall, stretching his arms so his shoulderblades graze it first, and lets his legs give out, sliding down and to the floor cooly.

He had noticed the vents as well, and noted the convenience of their location as far too simple an escape route, meaning there is either something behind them that makes them trickier, or.. his captor is clearly dimwitted.

Crossing his arms across his chest, the blonde Legend looks simply apathetic to the situation. He holds his chin high and closes his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the others he's been imprisoned alongside.

Snorting softly, Loki turned from the other and knelt down beside the young boy, reaching out his hand curiously to ruffle the other's hair.

"So strange that you're silent," He muttered softly, pressing his lips together as he gave his tail a prominant shake, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling. "Hey, Lue."

No answer.

Glancing to where he'd been laying, Loki's eyes narrowed at the lantern that was there, but there was no sign of his fire lizard anywhere. Pulling away from the boy, Loki retrieved his lantern to open the door and look inside of it, eyes narrowing even further at the fire being out. "Damn it all."

The bi-colored gaze shifted back at the movement of goldy plush drawing closer. Both ears falling flat to avoid being flattened at the ruffle. Strange, strange? The concept didn't click in his mind yet. To him it all seemed to fit together perfectly fine. Nor did his silence seem... out of place.

A doctrine he didn't quite get, but still it compelled. Be seen, act appropriately, obey orders. All directives that ran deep, beneath even the sense of individuality the infant had. With this came a sense of silence. Unless there was something grave to be said, or a answer owed one did not speek. Grave importance was of course, judged at the time of need. So it was a case by case study of importance and justice. Something defined by strict laws, yet the laws were vague enough to be open to interpretation.

An amusing thing to be ruled by.

Not that Phace understood any of it. He simply saw it as a sort of part of life. For it was normal for him, was it not? to obey was part of existance. If anything he lived to obey. Certainly it was similar to being blind. If you were born blind you never knew that life was any other way until someone explained it. Thus, Phace could not comprehend that life was any other way. It made perfect sense.

So he wasn't strange in the least. At least not in his opinion.

Still it wasn't as if any of that mattered. Not when the racket started up. Both ears fell back fell back as a bit of displeasure shone on his face at the noise caused by the rapping. Loud with little hope of having any sense of rythm. There was no point to such noise. One of th internal voice made that chiding remark. Along with a name... he didn't understand it much. It wasn't as if the feline cared too much about it though, he was too busy blocking out the noise until it stopped.

What had been the point of that again?

Ten years bad luck with some small reward. Behind the mirror is a small viewing room. Two chairs sit within it, as well as a well-thumbed book, titled "Recreational Recesses." God only knows.

There is a door leading out of this room, but by the look of the series of locks set into it, that's not the best option in the world.