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.]

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.

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.

[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.