SCARY JAIL LOG #2

[capitalm]

Who: Downtown Los Angeles Captives
Where: A Mysterious Location
When: Starting March 11th, lasting for at least 4 IC days
What: Those that were kidnapped in the downtown hotspot awake in a terrible place and terrible things happen.
Warnings: Violence, body horror, mind control, fucking creepy bullshit.

You awake in the depths of a vast tower, like a tall layered cylinder of steel and black metal. You can see a seemingly endless height above you, and an endless depth below. Each layer is lit by a ring of multi-hued light that seems to bleed into the black material below it, like veins into flesh. A circle is cut through each layer from the tower's top to bottom, and occasionally a vast black form will rise and fall between layers - a mass of black metal with lights like eyes and grasping mechanical hands. Sometimes it takes captives with it.

Cages line the exterior walls like an arena, with other restraints set up on the layered floors outside. There is a tone of clinical order and structure without, though the black metal leaks a substance almost like the sweat of an animal. Cages open and close themselves, and smaller machines and familiar looking cyborgs wander the floors. Entire cage sections can be removed mechanically and taken to lower levels. Muffled voices and the animal cries of captured strays can be heard around the shaft, as well as the rhythmic hum of vast machinery down below.

There is no natural light here, and no sign of easy escape.

[OOC: This is where you go if your character was picked up in the downtown LA area. If they weren't but you want them here for some reason, a limited degree of inter-base movement is possible, so it can be worked out. Just how your characters are set up and who they are caged with is up to you. They can also be cages alone, but within speaking distance of others. It is generally presume that a reasonable degree of care has been used to contain your character if they have powers, but the particular methods of restraint are up to you. Most approximately super sciencey things should be reasonable.

If your character is going to get "worked on" by the machine, the progression in which this occurs is up to you - you can have threads before things happen, and then threads during or after. As mentioned before, please use some discretion with how gruesome you get - this is comic books not a slasher fic. All inhuman characters captured will be lined up for modifications and brainwashing, but it is presumed that the AI is a busy machine and simply won't get to most people. Robots can be brainwashed with either code or implants, but organics should not get to the point of brainwashing because that would generally involve a lobotomy.

Feel free to take creative liberty with layouts and the like. This is a prompt, not a solid limit. AI may drop in occasionally as an NPC to menace you. As a mod if you need the NPC's attention for something in specific.]

Comments

[Open]

[cazamitad]

When they first brought her in, Araña had been in her exoskeleton and determined to stay in it as long as necessary. That is, until they started showing signs that they were willing and able to attempt REMOVING the exoskeleton by force. She'd damaged it before and had no interest in seeing what pulling it apart would do, so she'd dismissed it and they'd been left with just an 18-year-old girl. That apparently made her less interesting or put her in a different queue, because they'd then tossed her in a cell and left her there.

She'd been here for almost a full day when they took her out to the table again. While they'd needed her sedated for the integration of the proper circuitry to her brain and stuff, the initial "surgery" was basically performed in the "hold her down and activate the saw" method.

Apparently, whoever was running this joint thought that removing Araña's pretty, thematically-appropriate tattoo was a logical starting place for removing her powers entirely. Which was fair, her exo DID seem to spread from there. Hell, for all she knew, it would work.

But she wasn't really prepared for their removal method being "take the arm off above the shoulder without painkillers", and there had been a lot of screaming before she ultimately passed out. They must've sedated her after that, but she doesn't really remember when she wakes up back in her (or a, at least) cell.

She groans as the pain rushes back - not as strong as it was before, so maybe there's some sort of numbing agent or they managed to partially heal the wound left behind, but it's still there and it's still bad and her clothes are all stiff from dried blood and dammit she's going to have to get a whole new costume, part of her mind complains.

"No, no, no, no," she murmurs to herself, not willing to open her eyes yet to see what they did to her. "Esto no está ocurriendo, esto es lo que no ocurriendo."

'What they did to her' is, apparently, the removal of her entire right arm, replacing it with a perfectly proportional (thankfully) robotic replacement. The fingers twitch a little as she continues to mutter under her breath in Spanish.

[OOC: for anyone! Be in her cell, be near her cell. You can even have seen her come in all exoskeleton'd and now know what that weird bug thing looks like underneath, if you like! ;)

Also feel free to make this a little later in the captivity when she's awake and already aware of the metal arm thing.]

Re: [Open]

[metabee]

Metabee had been thrown in the cell shortly after arriving. He'd gone offline before they dragged him down here, from the damages inflicted by the gross mutants that had ambushed him. Soon as he came back online they'd escorted him to the cell, and despite his rather persistent questioning didn't answer any of his questions. He was also slightly confused about his casing being totally repaired, and internal diagnostics were mostly coming back fine. Except for some sort of annoyingly repetitive alert for 2% head damage that he couldn't place.

When he'd been brought in, no one else was around, but a few hours later they had brought the girl in unconscious. She looked a little familiar, but not enough he could recognize her. Course she was also covered in blood and mutterng in spanish so that was not exactly...helping at all. But she was human so that as a good thing.

"Hey, uh, are you ok?"

[cazamitad]

Oh. There's someone in here with her. Araña takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, and carefully pushes herself into a sitting position with her left hand. She opens her eyes and catches just a flash of metal before she looks up (and away from "her" arm) at her cellmate with a weak smile.

"Well, you know," she says faintly, "I've had better days."

[metabee]

"Oh yeah that was probably a dumb question."
He'd been on rescue missions before, so it wasn't that she was the first person he'd seen beat up like this, but then he was still taking it rather well. There was probably a perfectly good reason for whatever had happened to her, after all. She wouldn't have been brought here if it wasn't for her own good.

"But are you...in pain or anything? Did they do that to your arm or was it....always....like that?"

LATER ON

[civilizedcombat]

The last thing Cynthia remembers is being overwhelmed by cyborgs while on patrol with Nessa. Their horrifying cyborg encounter started with a single small one, but then more attacked. They tried to fight them off, but they just weren't prepared enough. Now that she's becoming conscious and sporting a bump on her head from where a cyborg knocked her out, Cynthia blames herself – through disjointed half-awake thoughts – for not being strong enough. She thought that she'd be fine, that she could watch Nessa's back while Nessa watched hers, but she couldn't do it. If only she were better at her powers...

She shakes it off and tries to wake up more. There's no point in sleepily sulking right now. It's best to sit up and inspect her surroundings. Alright, she's in a cage, judging from the bars next to her. Nessa is nearby, but Cynthia is too groggy to tell what her status is. Further away but still in the same cage, she can see other figures – at least, she thinks it's more than one. Her perception of things isn't spot-on right now.

"Hey," she mumbles, then tries to raise her voice to a more audible level. "Hey, where are we? What's happening?"

[purrsuit]

The first thing Nessa realises as the world starts to come back to her is the dull ache at the back of her neck and the splitting headache pushing it's way to the front of her consciousness. She growls at the pain, and curls herself up into a tighter ball than she already was, willing it to go away.

It's only a few moments after this that she can vaguely hear another voice through the other noises going on in the background, and Nessa mumbles something not understandable before squinting up into the gloom. Her eyes were still cloudy, but she registered a few lumps in the dark, and then glanced over to the owner of the noise.

Suddenly everything rushed back to her--they had been ambushed and Nessa couldn't see well enough to fight them off and then everything had gone black. And now they were here.

She pushed herself up and rubbed a gloved hand over her eyes to try and clear them, reaching out with the other for Cynthia.

"Flourish?" She calls out, her voice uncertain. "Are you ok?"

[cazamitad]

"You got kidnapped by crazy robots bent on the destruction of super-humans."

There's a girl about their age in there. Close examination (or examination at all) reveals the right side of her shirt is stained in what looks like a non-insubstantial amount of dried blood, and her right arm is shiny metal.

"On the bright side, they haven't dragged you out to the table yet."

OPEN

[baelhat]

This has not, as it were, been a good week for Baelheit.

The Decepticons already have half of the formula -- this, he knows for certain, because when Milly had shown up at his lab with a missing hand, all torn metal and ripped cabling, the data drive had been gone, too. Perhaps it had been his mistake to entrust it to her -- perhaps he hadn't been as discreet as he could have...or maybe he simply hadn't given her the means to properly defend it. Well, he's seen to that now. Milliarde doesn't know it yet, but she is considerably more fortified than before.

There had been no time to answer her questions -- and perhaps her pride was still injured enough from her defeat at Starscream's hands that she simply didn't have the heart to press him on it. At any rate, he's relieved; he sends her home with a new hand and no more answers than she'd arrived with, and as soon as he is able he alerts Miriel of the present danger. The Decepticons might have stolen the data drive, but it's only a matter of time before they discover they have only half the formula. That won't do them any good, of course, unless they get their hands on the other half. He feels considerably more confident in Miriel's ability to protect the rest of the formula, though.

It's late when he finally leaves the office -- it's probably unwise for him to do so, knowing that the Decepticons are out there, but Baelheit has never been a man to let such petty matters stop him. He doesn't get far before he's assaulted by a veritable parade of hideous mutant cyborgs. He's equipped with things to defend himself, of course; but he doesn't anticipate that they would be so fast, and they've disarmed him before he can put up much of a fight. Unlike his daughter, he never has been very good in a fight. His telekinesis is useless here, as is his short-burst mind control, as he discovers -- before long, everything goes black, and he wakes up in a cage.

He notes the irony of his situation only distantly. Back when he'd worked for TRIDENT, they'd kept test subjects in accommodations not unlike this. He's a sight, though -- no longer the crisp, clean picture of professionalism, his clothing is rumpled and torn, his skin peppered with scrapes and bruises, and he's got a bloody lip. His hair is a mess, and his ever-present hat is curiously absent. It must have been knocked off his head when he'd been apprehended. He doesn't look fearful, just curious and intent as he wordlessly surveys his surroundings, conversing silently with Daimon, but there is a particular awareness about him -- the sort that comes with knowing precisely what situation you're in. He may not know specifics, but he thinks he knows all too well what comes next.

[goldpaw]

There's another scientist across from him, as it turns out. Vanessa is no fighter either, but she tried, and she has bloody fur, scuffed paw pads and a torn ear to show for it – not to mention the sorry state of her once-smart purple dress.

By the look of things she's been awake for a while already, though; when her cellmate stirs her ears prick up automatically, and although she winces at the movement of the ear that's been injured, she gives him a tired, half-amused smile.

"Good morning, Doctor," she says, sitting up a little. Her tail, curled by her feet, twitches, tense.

[baelhat]

"Dr. Goldpaw," Baelheit says, an uncharacteristically emotive look of surprise crossing his face. He can't say he had any real expectations one way or another for who else he'd find here, but it's been some time since they'd met in person. She's always been a little eccentric for his tastes, but he's never disliked her, and he respects her as a brilliant mind in the field all the same. Besides that, she's sort of fascinating on an objective level, and she's given Mintaka Industries some healthy competition. She's looking worse for the wear now, though, as he most certainly is himself. Wiping a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth, he leans forward, looking vaguely concerned.

"How can you tell?" he asks, bemused; there's no light from the outside in here, and he's too disoriented to be able to discern how long he'd been out. He frowns slightly. "Are you all right?"

[goldpaw]

"I can't," she says dryly. "I woke up here about an hour ago – of course, that's a guess too." Another tense sweep of her tail belies her frustration and concern as she glances out past the bars. "Whoever's keeping us here didn't bother hanging up a clock. I'm fine though," she says, looking back at Baelheit, a little more earnest, if still on edge. "I've had worse, anyway." Not much worse, mind you...

"What about you? Holding together?"

Re: OPEN

[metabee]

Metabee was a little irritated to be stuck guarding the prisoners rather than be out helping with anything actually interesting. After what had happened earlier with Araña he'd been released from his cell and ordered to keep an eye as new prisoners were brought in. He wasn't exactly happy to comply but if it helped with ridding the world of some of inhuman freaks he wasn't going to argue.

Seeing someone start moving in one of the further cells he headed over to get a better look. He didn't recognize the guy, but that wasn't exactly surprising.

[baelhat]

The robot is staring at him. Baelheit stares back coldly, sitting back on his heels. He's crouching in the cage, as if refusing to sit completely at rest.

"Is there something you need?" he asks crisply, well aware that he is the one in the cage here.

[metabee]

"Nah, man, just wondering who was moving around back here." Metabee stops in front of the cell, arms behind his head, giving him a quick once over.

"You some sort of science guy, or what?"

OPEN

[metabee]

Metabee was pacing the room again, glancing up occasionally at the prisoners.He'd been dragged to another room again after the incident with the spider girl, and the bot in charge had forced him offline again. Coming back online was uneventful, which wasn't surprising, since his new boss seemed to have a pretty good understanding of robotics. He felt better than ever, except for the nagging report he kept getting on his internal readings.
_{Error Chest Damage Unknown}. Far as he could tell though he was fine.

Being put on guard duty was a huge drag though when all the action was up in the city, but anything he could do to facilitate their righteous work was worth the boredom.

He made another turn as he reached the end of the room, the rhythmic clanging of metal on metal as he crossed the room pretty audible in the confined space.

[pullingamiko]

Miko's best guess is that she's been here for maybe a few hours, and as far as she's concerned, that is far too long. She can tell she can't get through the bars, and obviously she can't break them, so at this point all she can really do is hope that somebody else finds a solution. Sitting around doing nothing has never been her strong point, though, so instead she's opted to insult the guards whenever possible.

The little yellow robot, in particular, catches her eye; he kind of stands out from the others, doesn't really look like he was made by the same person (or thing or whatever). As he comes closer to her cell, she leans forward and shouts out, "Hey, yellow guy! Why don't you stop the clanging or just fuck off!"

[metabee]

Metabee's head swung around as Miko started cursing at him, eyes narrowed. That was totally uncalled for behavior wow. What was her problem? He stalked back, standing in front of her cell, leaning forward threateningly.

"Excuse You! First off, I am doing my job! And secondly, it was not my idea to make the floor out of metal."

[pullingamiko]

She was a bit surprised by his reaction - normally the guards didn't really respond, at least not this strongly. Good, she could use an argument right about then.

She sneered at him - "Yeah, just doin' your job, keeping innocent people in cages for no goddamn reason. And whose idea was it to make the floor like this, then? It's gross and loud."

Re: OPEN

[goldpaw]

As he clangs his way past her cage, her tail swishing in time with his footsteps, Vanessa turns her head to watch him. There's not much else to watch here, after all.

"Hey," she says, eyeing the little robot curiously, "weren't you with the Trailblazers?"

Re: OPEN

[metabee]

Metabee glanced up as Vanessa called out to him. He vaguely recognized her from some of magazine recently, but he wasn't familiar enough with Vanessa to recognize her by sight.

"Yeah, I'm with the Trailblazers. Why?"

[goldpaw]

She thought so – she's been paying quite a bit more attention to local team rosters in recent months, following her decision to start her own one ...

She lowers her voice a little. "Are you undercover?"

[reluctantproxy]

Neku finally wakes up in his cell... a bit scuffed up from the fight, bruised, achey... but largely unharmed. It's a slow wake, and then all of a sudden everything rushes back to him at once, and he jolts up, yelping in surprise.

He looks a bit horrified, taking in his surroundings. What was this place? Why the hell was he taken here? There's a thousand questions in his mind as he tries to get his bearings, wandering to the bars of his cell.

To be perfectly honest, he was actually pretty terrified right now. But he was nothing if not adept at internalizing that kind of thing, at least, and trying to think rationally. Even still, he can feel his heart beating below his ribs rapidly as he struggles to get ahold of his naturally justified anxiety. The noise in here is utterly oppressive, an overwhelming cloud of negativity. He does what he can to ignore the empathic feedback of it all. The whos and whys could wait until later... right now he needed to focus on gathering as much practical intel as possible so he could start plotting an escape.

[pullingamiko]

Upon finding herself in a cell, Miko's immediate response was to shout, demanding an explanation, threatening whoever was responsible. With no response immediately forthcoming, she took a more careful look around the room and quickly regretted it.

She tried the bars (sturdy and too close together), the floor (metal), and, with those options exhausted, opted to continue shouting - though now she's starting to force down panic, whether she'll admit it or not.

When she hears Neku wake up in the cage next to hers, she runs to the barrier between them, gripping the bars. "Hey, are you okay? I mean... okay, obviously not completely but. You're not gonna die, right?"

[reluctantproxy]

He groans, casting an uncomfortable glance at her. "I've been better, I'll say that much. Where the hell are we...?"

[pullingamiko]

Miko glances around again, grimacing. "Nnnot sure actually. Looks like some kinda prison. A really fucked up prison."

That cyborg-watching expedition really did not go as planned.