Fandom Belle Reve Means "Sweet Dreams" // Suicide Squad RP // RP Thread

[Jigajig]

Levina
Location : Belle Reve
​

A few moments before Cyrus entered her office, Levina heard Shine's voice speaking to her. <<Captain. Shine here. We almost at your location. I'll send Cyrus in. Just note. I haven't done the ritual to reconnect him to comms but he's a bit... he seem a bit 'disoriented' after this latest Jump. Cuz yeah, Cy don't be acting like himself. Like I think something happened over there. But I'll be here in the hallway just in case. Oh! Xenolith just arrived on scene. So whatever you need, we here, Cappy. Shine out.>> Levina rose an eyebrow to herself at that. From what she knew from his previous jumps Cyrus he did not tend to get disoriented, but then again there's always a first. She replied back just before the door opened up. <Thank you for the information Shine. I will be sure to call upon if need be.> And with that said and done in walked Cyrus. Cyrus Erasmus Njeri. Much like herself, Cyrus was one of the newer guards at Belle Reve, having joined a few months back. She had read abit about him in one of her many files she had on the staff at Belle Reve. She had a file on all the inmates too. It was well within her nature to know about those she worked with and those she kept in check.

Looking to Cyrus when he entered she motioned for him to have a seat opposite her. "Welcome back Cyrus, please do have a seat. I hope the mission and jump was a success?" From under her helmet, Levina's gaze lingered ever so slightly upon the man before her, before she leaned backed into her own chair. "I presume Shine has gotten you up to speed about what's being going on since you left?" Levina's voice was calm and somewhat soothing on the ears and yet still had a sense of authority puncturing through.

"Ah let me just.." She picked up a small remote and turned off the TV, so now the only sound in the room would be their voices. "Have you been back long? You just missed out on all the fun. Small riot, nothing we couldn't handle of course. It was getting a little bit boisterous so I stepped in." She chuckled lightly at that, waving her hand nonchalantly. "But enough about that" She straightend up in her chair, the old leather squeaking slightly against her armour as she leaned forwards, her gaze fully boring down upon Cyrus now as she rested her chin upon her hands as she brought them together under it, in a classic villian style pose. "Tell me all about how the jump went. I'm sure it was... interesting yes?"

 

[Aviator]

Azrael Emery // “the Conjurer” // Age 28 // Sixth Prince of Castillon // Illusionist
​

On the other side of the door was one of the biggest women Azrael had ever seen, which was not immediately obvious until she spoke. Her face was obscured by a helmet that had been wrought from crude steel, with just a horizontal slit across the eyes that crackled ominously with a cosmic-blue glow. After seeing New whip off her sunglasses to reveal solid-blue orbs with no discernible irises or pupils, Azrael was not particularly alarmed by this; perhaps it was a common genetic trait among the women of this universe. The helmeted woman—Cappy, Azrael assumed, though he figured it best not to use the nickname to address her—sat in an office in which wealth had been subtly splashed around. Portraits of individuals whose identities he hoped he wouldn’t be quizzed on but assumed to be previous captains lined the walls. The desk was big and mahogany with brass fittings and an inlay that would have been fashionable one-hundred years ago. Behind Cappy, a fire glowed in a hearth despite it being July—at least, it had been July in Castillon at the time of Azrael’s departure. Dressed all in black, silhouetted against flame, the captain looked rather like a demon, raised from the dead, trading for souls on the other side.

He noted with interest that she was all eyes for him as he and New entered, barely sparing the blue-haired girl a greeting. Was Lieutenant Njeri really a higher rank than her, after all? And he lets her call him stank and then say she’s not on his roster? he thought incredulously. Perhaps the operatives were equivalent ranks, Azrael reasoned with himself, but because Njeri was supposed to have just returned from a multiversal diplomatic venture, he was the man of the hour in the captain’s eyes. The captain gestured at a pair of seats in front of her desk, and Azrael nodded his thanks as he and New settled in. Then again, perhaps manners just weren’t considered all that important in a maximum-security prison, because Cappy did not so much as inquire as to whether she could procure a beverage for her guests before getting down to business. How rude. Whenever hosting meetings at the Citadel, Azrael always offered coffee or tea, even when his appointments were not ones he was looking forward to. Which was most of them, if he even cared at all.

Cappy had an annoying penchant for saying statements with an upward tic at the end, as if they were meant to be questions. Unsure if he was supposed to answer, Azrael opened his mouth to field the first one, when the big helmeted woman fired off another. Shine? Was that another nickname for the small bronze girl who had retrieved him from the depths outside the Pit, whom the stone man had called New? What was it with these odd names? At least Cyrus sounded fairly normal, if somewhat uncommon. Azrael forced a smile, dissolving the irritation that was building up inside him. “Oh yes, I got the full story about the cafeteria brawl,” he said amiably. And then, remembering that his character was supposed to be a hardened former soldier—whom New had referred to as “Pirate” more than once—Azrael cut the smiling and rolled his neck, like a boxer stretching out after a punch to the jaw. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t here to see it. There likely would have been a mess of paperwork and the unpleasant task of acquiring a casket to deal with.” He raised one corner of his lips meanly.

Cappy made a small noise of appreciation, as if admiring the lieutenant’s spunk, while New—Shine? Whatever her name was—failed to fully suppress a sigh, as if fed up with his overinflated ego. Azrael happily accepted the mixed approval; it was far preferable to shifting, suspicious eyes. Compared to the hot and humid and filthy mess that was the Pit, he felt considerably calmer; the office environment was one that was familiar to him, and with two companions, he felt like the attention could be more easily diffused among the group. Just then, as if his renewed confidence had tempted fate, the inexplicable happened; his coat seemed to develop a mind of its own. The long, black trench coat shifted, seemingly retracting into itself as it shortened, withdrawing from Azrael’s knees and ending at his hips. It faded from the black of a raven’s wing to charcoal, and then to a misty gray, until finally it was white, the color of a virgin’s sheets and chaste kisses. Six dark buttons manifested, and the collar, previously hiked up high, flattened out. The material turned from sleek, shiny leather to the soft, warm wool of a peacoat.

Both Cappy and New’s gazes tracked the transformation, but neither of them commented on it immediately. With an effort, Azrael cast aside the alarm rising inside him, deciding to play this development off as if it were completely normal, like a moon cycling through its various phases. What the hell was this? An enchanted coat? Did its transformations mean something, convey some kind of secret information that could be used against him? Or did it change by the hour? Azrael had never recalled such a phenomenon happening during his biweekly negotiations with Njeri. Could it be possible that the coat sensed its owner was near, and that’s why it had changed? Azrael’s heart sank as he considered the possibility. The only way for Njeri to be near was if he’d woken from the tranquilizer that Azrael had given him—though Azrael was certain that, with the exception of some kind of supernatural interference, it should still be effective for another five or six hours—and had freed himself from that cell in the Pit.

The mystery of the shifting coat would have to wait. Cappy shut off the television droning in the background and swiveled back to Azrael, asking about the jump. New had used that terminology too; Azrael inferred that it meant Njeri’s interdimensional travel from one universe to another. So he really wasn’t a spy for the European Union or Chinese Federation, Azrael admitted to himself, thinking that his father was a fool to be led astray by such a far-fetched sham. Cappy’s voice was light and friendly, but when she leaned forward in her seat and stared at him with eyes that were hidden behind her helmet, the effect was rather unsettling. Azrael wondered at the presence of the helmet in her own office; did Cappy expect to be suddenly attacked while she was filing paperwork? Was she horribly deformed beneath it? Njeri’s coworkers were so bizarre; it made the janitor whose breath could bake bread and the secretary who could read the history of an object with a touch at the Citadel seem mundane.

Azrael cleared his throat. For once, he felt prepared for one of the obstacles that had been thrown his way in this new world. His task seemed deceptively straightforward; all he had to do was describe his meetings with Njeri from the lieutenant’s perspective. Just make it seem like any other appointment, he told himself. Revealing the destruction of Castillon was out of the question; finding out that a potential trade partner had been obliterated via alien invasion might trigger some lockdown security protocol in the prison, and then Azrael would never escape. The only hard part of the task ahead would be to speak carefully enough as to not betray his ignorance of the workings of this world, as every meeting had been on Castillon soil and his only knowledge of it came from what Njeri had said and this brief soiree into the prison.

“On behalf of the emperor, the Castillon prince shows reluctance to trade viridium for anything we’ve offered yet, which includes precious metals like gold and silver, chemical formulae for weapons of mass destruction, various pharmaceuticals and narcotics, the complete boxed set of The Twilight Zone, and a duck that ostensibly predicts the future,” Azrael reported truthfully. “Viridium is a precious stone that is Castillon's ultimate driver of GDP. It is a closely-guarded government secret from other worldly nations, as it is not only exorbitantly expensive and a coveted architectural and fashion material for the wealthy, but it is believed to have magical properties. While studies differ and there is little certainty, there have been correlations that those who live in close proximity to large sources of viridium have a higher chance of developing…” Here he stumbled a little, because he was unsure if there was a scientific term that New had used that, if he failed to invoke it, would make him lose credibility. Giving up, he eventually settled on “...supernatural abilities. Thus, viridium is valued as a priceless weapon, because if it falls into enemy hands, Castillon fears it may have a supernatural army to deal with. We must try a new tactic if we wish to acquire it,” he finished.

Cappy did not immediately reply, and Azrael smothered a proud smile, speculating whether his market analysis had gone over her head. Clearly she was a soldier and not a businesswoman for good reason. It was one of those moments where he was immeasurably thankful that he obsessed over files and records enough to say the name of that old-timey black-and-white television show with confidence. Njeri had once insisted on playing an episode for Azrael, like a birthday-party magician trying to mesmerize a child with a magic trick, as if its entertainment value was a fair trade for state secrets and billions of kruge in assets.

Given the alien invasion, Castillon was now a defunct nation, so Azrael felt little guilt in breaking down its economics for military officials from the next universe over. The information was nearly worthless now, and he needed to toss in a few pearls of real wisdom to sell his role as a diplomat. Besides, drowning them in technical details would detract from the attention they paid to him specifically. He had just opened his mouth to continue when the television behind Cappy crackled with static. He sat very straight to stare over Cappy’s massive shoulder as gray flakes danced over it, occasionally broken by bits of color as it sputtered to life. Seeing his and New’s distracted glances, Cappy spun around just as an image resolved. A jolt went through Azrael, like a missed stair. It was too late to recover his surprise, the expression of heart-stopping fear that had crossed his features, but fortunately, the women’s attention was riveted on the screen that had sprung to life of its own accord.

Staring at them was the man who had upended Azrael’s life less than a day ago. The man whose forces had invaded a viridian ballroom of expensively-clad nobility with champagne flutes in their hands and slayed most of its occupants before the current orchestral number was out. The man whom Azrael himself had invited to Castillon in an attempt to trade viridium for blood and a throne. General Zod. The alien commander’s face was as expressionless as the granite face of a mountain, his eyes black and opaque as twin caves.

“Children of man,” Zod began. The silence that followed reminded Azrael of the moments when a hurricane was about to descend on New Reynes. “I send this message as a courtesy, as the meaningless slaughter of Earth’s civilians is not my goal. However, any military resistance my forces meet will be annihilated without mercy. Please be advised that, within the next twenty-four-hour span, we the Kryptonian people shall begin our occupation of your planet. Our technology and physical capabilities exceed yours hundredfold. Fighting us is certain to result in your demise. For your own safety, we recommend your immediate surrender or evacuation to another planet. Please do not act rashly; the last nation we seized had a survival rate of less than one percent.” Less than one percent. Azrael shivered, as if ghosts were stroking his shoulders with cold fingers, knowing that the nation Zod was alluding to had been his own. “May your gods watch over you,” General Zod said by way of farewell. And the feed cut out.

 

[TobiornotTobi]

Rodrick Unger​

Belle Reve Penitentiary​

"...Sod it all."​

---

After a brief hiatus, Rodrick's bad mood was back in full force. Here he was, forced to the sidelines yet again. The whole ordeal reminded him of when he first arrived in this hellhole. As Liling and Violettin stared each other down, the blonde inmate's mind wandered. He hadn't felt this bad since he first arrived at Belle Reve.

...

It was anyone's guess as to what was next for Rodrick Unger. What he initially thought was the end of the road turned out not to be. He had no clue how long the yanks had him locked in that basement, getting beaten like a piñata. Typically, if the interrogee didn't have the information you wanted, you disposed of the bloke. Rodrick knew that from his time as an officer of the Australian Federal Police. Apparently, things worked differently in the land of the free. Rodrick was tied up in his chair, trying to catch some miniscule amount of sleep before the next round began when the lights in the basement came to life and a black sack was dropped on his head. The bruised and blinded Australian was then led out of the room and into the back of an automobile. After a long drive, Rodrick was lead out of the vehicle and found himself blinded again, this time by the shining of the sun. After a bitter divorce, Rodrick and fresh air were back together, but the relief was only temporary. Towering before him was a building his police officer mind recognized as a prison. Two guards quickly intercepted him and before Rodrick knew it, he was being herded inside and placed at the back of a line consisting of other criminals. In front of them, a tall guard built like a brick wall was in the middle of giving a lecture.

"All of you standing here have shown that you cannot exist in civilized society," He recited to the new arrivals. He began pacing up and down, laying eyes on every single one of his wards. "As such, this is your home now. You will walk when we tell you to walk, you will eat when we tell you to eat, you will sleep when we tell you to sleep. For those of you lucky enough to have a release date, keep your head down, stay out of trouble, and learn from your mistake. Your time will come. But for those of you who have performed crimes heinous enough to earn you a life sentence, this prison will be your home and your grave. You made your bed, now lie in it."

To the more hardened criminals out of the new batch, the introduction speech was little more than background noise. But to Rodrick, it was devastating. He looked around his surroundings, at the concrete walls already suffocating him with their blank, grey color. The long hallway before him, filling him with dread, and the layered doorway that was slowly being closed, giving him a chance to give a final farewell to the sun. The sun, the brightest star in the sky that he spent years running under, chasing after prey. And when the door closed with a resounding thud, Rodrick found himself wincing, as if a body part was caught in the doorway. Then he really did wince, as he felt himself getting shoved from behind. Distracted, Rodrick failed to see that the others had begun moving down the hall.

"Get moving, prisoner," The other guard barked. The Australian reluctantly shuffled his feet, beginning the final descent into the land down under.

...

Rodrick was once more feeling like a caged animal. Caged and powerless. Powerless to do anything about his circumstances. His freedom taken from him, forced to exist on the whim of somebody else. Forget dying of old age, Rodrick was already dead. Dead by drowning in a cesspool of stagnation. So like a corpse, he sat completely still in his chair. Nothing could rouse him from his gloom, not even Rachel getting up and entering the ring. Her speech about 'more than one way for a person to be unable to go further' immediately made Rodrick aware that whatever she was going to do was going to make the aforementioned pendulum swing back with a vengeance. He then remembered Missy Kimmy talking about a supposed task of organizing a team, but Rodrick's usually imaginative mind could only muster up images of him and the therapy gang being assigned kitchen duty, like Jupiter mentioned earlier.

Speaking of the only other guy in the room, Rodrick heard him talking, but still kept rigid. "Bloody oath. It shoulda been us throwin' down, but Missy Kimmy wouldn't know a good time if it hit her in the face, so here we are."

And then, pretty boy started chatting smack on par with the big man himself. What was that? Rodrick might get a few shots in? Jupiter would have him on the floor without a scratch? This bloke has to be as high as the planet he named himself after, spoutin' off fightin' words like those! Rodrick let out a single 'hmph' in response to the charged statements. Then another, and another in rapid succession. And like a car starting up, the pitch of Rodrick onomatopoeia increasing until he was full-on laughing. With fire in his eyes, significantly weakened but burning nonetheless, he turned to face his rival.

"Mate, you must have a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock if you think you'd beat me!" Rodrick declared, punctuating his sentence with a thumb pointing at his chest. "It takes a lot more than just strength to survive a hunt, much less bag ya prize! I've taken out beasties bigger and stronger than you out in the bush!"

His excitement rising, Rodrick took a deep breath and shrugged. "Yeah, you laid a beatdown on those two rabble-rousers before therapy. Impressive? Sure, but I'm not some meathead doin' 10 years for breakin' and enterin'! I wiped the floor with a guy who was shootin' fire outta his hands, remember?" The hunter then pointed at Jupiter's power suppressing jewelry. "Whatever your gimmick is, it doesn't faze me a bit! Off or on, I'm still moppin' the floor with ya like I did ol' smokey!"

Rodrick crossed his arms as he continued to look at Jupiter. Who was this guy before Belle Reve? Could they be ex-military? No, they looked too young for that. Certainly had the build of a guy who slapped around people for a living. Getting to fight Jupiter would be a fun match, one that would take more than strength to win indeed. But alas, this was all seated squarely in theory. Unless Belle Reve started a fight night tradition, any attempt to settle the score with the other blonde would be quashed and the lot of them sent to solitary. Or worse, more therapy. Out of the corner of his eye, Rodrick watched as Shi got up and began creeping behind Missy Kimmy. What was that pinball planning to do?

 

[Mirai-chan]

"Questions are never meant to be asked, They're meant to stand a point." ​

Violettin Hojo​

Violettin upon hearing mswhat'shername calling out liling mumbling about something, with the latter answering what would this Hojo? It's not that this struck a nerve in poor Hojo here a subtle twitch in her eye at being mentioned of Levina ending the fight. "You want to repeat that again? Cause I heard what I think I didn't just hear." Technically Hojo had the gall to kick ass if she wanted it's just there are times when she's not the one to be in more trouble than it caused, Cause lighting and this bastard did not mix and it equals a lot of effed upness.

If it wasn't for Kimmy's words and hearing her, pointing this undead gal's attention to be diverted from point a to point mothertruckin' B. If it wasn't for her idly tossing the BOT in her hands and hearing Kimmy snap her fingers, Hojo was startled as she was forced from her sitting position and flew up to her feet in matter of seconds almost and keyword almost falling. She faced Liling and much to the dark-haired stitched-up gal's dismay there was an internal sigh before hearing Kimmy's words again... and one that sparked a small smile on her face.... She was finally gonna kick some ass and kicking ass was what she was gonna do with her raisin her hands cracking her knuckles. "Heh, and here I thought there was gonna be no fight here," Violettin remarked sarcastically. Basically, she was itching for a fight, and guess what she got one. But hearing the other woman's voice; Rach- rachael, That was her name wassit? Because that woman got between them both, This slightly annoyed her.

Mostly that just left Violettin to raise a brow at whatever Rachel just said. "What?" Okay, Violettin was confused here because someone may need to dumb it down for Violettin because she did not get what Rachel said but just inadvertently sighed and shrugged it off as something and mostly that Violettin didn't care. "screw, it. Let's fight!" Violettin's smile just widened into a toothy grin with her eyes gleaming maliciously as she came in with a feint punch at Rachel, Since Rachel in between them why not add her into this mix too? If that was dodged that only just cued for a one-two knockout of punches, Her style was as wild as Violettin was and she was ready to enjoy a wild fight, If it's a Free for all or a Two against one she's in.

 

[Aviator]

Liling // “Verdigris” // Age 9 // Inmate // Artificial Intelligence // Cat Burglar and Pianist
​

As the classroom shifted into a boxing ring, the therapy participants reduced to spectators, Liling felt a familiar roiling in her gut. A blurring of her vision. A hiccup of fear that she was spinning out of control and did not know how she would land, whether it would be on her feet or on her head. The world was changing so fast, and like an aerialist with a bad case of the twisties, she could not lock her eyes on a single focal point for balance. All she knew was bewilderment to find herself center stage, thrust into the spotlight for a performance that she had not planned, nor even wanted to partake in. She swallowed, and, for a moment, her palms greased with a thin sheen of sweat, she felt distinctly, uncomfortably, mortally human. Nervous and vulnerable and easily manipulated. She imagined that if she had a heart, it would be ready to leap out of her throat and make a break for it.

In the wake of Missy Kimmy’s announcement, silence flooded the room, thick and bitter as a lungful of smoke. Liling’s eyes flitted around, assessing a circle of carefully blank expressions lest their owners become Missy Kimmy’s next victim, and then settled on her opponent. Up close, Hojo reminded her of an albino chipmunk with the smell of peanuts in her nose. Oversized features bulged from a ghostly-pale face, topped off by a manic, toothy grin. Other than Missy Kimmy herself, who sat wearing a quiet, self-satisfied expression, Hojo was the only one who looked excited by the turn of events. She crackled with mad energy. A series of small pops! broke the silence as she cracked her knuckles, chittering gleefully to herself.

It was unclear whether they were supposed to fight immediately or wait for some kind of official signal. The Gibrarian (a portmanteau of the words “giant” and “librarian” that Liling had come to use for the tall, bespectacled girl) levered to her feet during this pause, walking briskly and interposing herself between the two combatants. Liling’s brows furrowed at her cryptic commentary. Living with four younger kids and their teenage caregiver had taught her that if you wanted to be heard, you’d best speak directly, because the intellectual gap between children and most adults was disappointingly small. Despite the incomprehensible words, her body language made her intent clear. To get between Hojo and Liling, she was standing a little uncomfortably close to both of them, towering a whole foot over the taller of the two and giving Liling a perfect view of her orange-clad shoulder. The Gibrarian put her hands in her pockets and slouched slightly, as if she were either uncomfortable with the attention she’d thrust onto herself, or she was daring the girls on either side of her to strike someone making no attempt to defend herself. She did not move.

Between Missy Kimmy commanding them to fight and now being policed against it, Liling was feeling like a hot potato tossed around a circle, and more than a little indignant at the repeated attempts to remove her autonomy. “I can make up my own mind, thanks, Prom Queen,” she sneered at the high schooler. “My, between upholding Great Expectations as the pinnacle of literature and philosophical lectures every time you open your mouth, they beat on your ass hard in the schoolyard, didn’t they?” Liling tutted disapprovingly. While she felt mildly annoyed—even contemptuous—toward the Gibrarian for trying to take charge of the situation, Liling wasn’t riled to the point of throwing punches. That was something Bristol and Siena did when one of them ate the other’s Halloween candy. When your life consisted of sleeping in tents for two weeks at a time, collecting spectators’ money, handing all of it but a small percentage over to the proprietor, and then packing up your meager knapsack of personal belongings and heading out in wagons to do it all over again, circus girls were just as fierce as the boys.

But perhaps “riled” wasn’t the right word to describe the source of Hojo’s actions, either. Conversely, she was brimming with so much of that overeager energy from before that she looked ready to overflow. Her face expanded into the kind of slasher smile that you might see at the end of your bed when your sleep paralysis acts up. And then her madness bubbled over like a bottle of champagne violently uncorked, with a right hook that the Gibrarian absorbed squarely in her flattish chest. The force of it was enough to spin her halfway around, whereupon she promptly took another blow.

Liling made an uneasy sound that was between a giggle and a wince. By intervening, Prom Queen had brought the beating on herself when she could have sat quiet and unnoticed. But she was around that same tender age that Analia had been when Liling had first met her. Analia, who Liling had not been brave enough to talk to until she stumbled into her tent one night to find a patron backhanding her for not pleasuring him fully. There had indeed been painted ladies who tended to the darkest desires of human nature within the Kaleidoscope—which was part of the reason they’d been rounded up and disbanded by the police—but Analia was just a girl with a guitar and a whiskey voice, who had yet to do anything wrong enough to warrant a beating.

The next punch sank into the Gibrarian’s stomach and she doubled over, lowering her face enough that it was within Hojo’s striking range. Liling felt something stir inside her. While Hojo wound up, she hooked an elbow around the tall girl’s armpit and towed her out of the line of fire, which resulted in a clumsy choreography in which she bowled into Liling and almost sent the two of them sprawling. Liling backpedaled frantically to keep her balance. “Crikey! You’re dumb twats, the both of you!” she shouted, sending harsh stares at both women. “You especially,” she said, aiming the bulk of her wrath at the bug-eyed instigator. “Can’t you see? Fighting is exactly what that monstrous bitch”—Liling pointed at the blond, stiletto-wearing monstrous bitch in question, whose face pinched as she observed this turn of events—“wants us to do. She wants us to fight each other so that we forget who the real enemy is, because we might all of us actually pose a threat, six on one. But for fuck’s sake, you haven’t done anything to me, and neither has Prom Queen, aside from being the smartest person in every room. So I’m not fighting you.”

Liling’s dramatic speech didn’t have its desired dramatic effect. Although perhaps that was for the best, because the last thing she wanted was to validate Acid Head’s claims that she was a hero. How nauseatingly self-righteous. She’d gladly surrender the title to the Gibrarian for playing martyr against Hojo. The only spectator who was still spectating was Missy Kimmy, debauched ringmaster herself. The two beefy blond boys were chatting each other and sizing each other up, slinging taunts back and forth like pick-up lines in a dive bar. Ugh, just get a room already and say you’re gay for each other, Liling thought mockingly. Meanwhile, a fourth seat stood abandoned. Well, stood was a generous word, for it was knocked over on its side on the floor. But it was reasonably devoid of an occupant for this reason. Liling searched the room. The last member of their party, Shi, was circling around the backs of the chairs, sneaking stealthily along its perimeter, just out of Missy Kimmy’s line of sight. She was two seats away. One. Until Liling’s gaze snagged on her.

The ruby-lipped Stepford doll whirled in her seat, coming face to face with her would-be assailant. Her cover blown, Shi was startled into attacking, or perhaps it was a flinch, but her movement did not have its intended result. There was a tremulous pause, in which all of her muscles seemed to freeze, held in place by some psychic paralysis. And then, bizarrely, Shi was shrinking. Her arms vanished through the holes of her orange jumpsuit, which emitted a gasp of air as it fell to the floor, suddenly limp without its wearer's body. It bulged in one place where an indeterminate shape the size of a large stone protruded. Suddenly, the special-needs classroom was filled with a shrill, piercing cry.

Missy Kimmy smacked her lips together. “That won’t do. Much as you may deserve it, my duplicitous little angel, I won’t let you suffocate. Last time it made for a lot of nasty paperwork.” The scream pitched higher, sharper. Liling jumped and stifled the impulse to cover her ears. “You’ve gotten yourself into an absolute heap of trouble, ain’t’cha, sugar?” Missy Kimmy sang, tittering at the cleverness of her joke. She leaned forward out of her chair, her blouse dipping almost scandalously low, and peeled back the orange heap of jumpsuit, revealing what was simultaneously the cutest yet most horrifying thing Liling had ever seen. Using the jumpsuit as a swaddle, Missy Kimmy lifted a tiny form onto her lap, nestling the naked brown infant in the crook of one elbow. She bounced her leg rhythmically in an attempt to placate the yowling creature that had once been Shi, a rainbow-colored tuft of hair sprouting from the top of its head.

 

[Jigajig]

Levina
Location : Belle Reve​

As Levina leaned forward, she observed the man before her with interest, listening to him answer the questions that she had posed to him. When Cyrus mentioned " the unpleasant task of acquiring a casket to deal with." she slowly rose an eybrow to herself making a small but audible "Hmm" noise. She nodded her head slowly, her gaze unfaltering and steadfast, remained locked upon Cyrus. It was then at that moment that something completely unexpected happend. The coat that Cyrus was wearing, suddenly began to change and shift it's appearance. The long, Black trench coat seemed to transmutate before the trio. The colour of it faded from pitch Black much like Levina's hair, to a Charcoal, a Grey, before finally it was a pure bright White. Six dark buttons materialised and then the collar, which was hiked up high, flattened and smoothed itself out. The material transubstantiated from that of sleek, shiny leather to wool. Levina cocked her head to the side, her gaze flitting from Cyrus to his coat then to Shine.

She had briefly skimmed in his file about the coat he wore but had never actaully seen it do anything in person. Her suspicions, which head already been aroused by something she spotted when the man entered her office, were rising. She said nothing for now and let him proceed with his answers. When he began to speak of the Viridium her ears perked up. Then they perked up even more when he said that the complete boxed set of The Twilight Zone had been offered in trade for it. OK.. now THAT set alarm bells ringing. She was about to speak when something caught her attention. The man opposite her was no longer looking at her. They were looking past her, at somthing behind her. Shine was always looking at something. Frowning as she heard something she slowly turned in her chair to stare at the TV on the wall. The one she had turned off. It was cracking with static, a point that she knew was wrong. It.. felt wrong.. Then at that moment it flickered into like, the image of a man appearing on the screen.

And then they spoke...​

"Children of man,” A pause... “I send this message as a courtesy, as the meaningless slaughter of Earth’s civilians is not my goal. However, any military resistance my forces meet will be annihilated without mercy. Please be advised that, within the next twenty-four-hour span, we the Kryptonian people" Levina let out a audible gasp at that. "Shall begin our occupation of your planet. Our technology and physical capabilities exceed yours hundredfold. Fighting us is certain to result in your demise. For your own safety, we recommend your immediate surrender or evacuation to another planet. Please do not act rashly; the last nation we seized had a survival rate of less than one percent. May your gods watch over you,”

And just as it began the TV flickered and went pitch Black one more, mirroring the mans cold dark eyes... Levina's mind suddenly was much like one of her namesakes. A maelstrom of thoughts whirled inside of her head like a raging tempest. Her gauntleted hands gripped the arms of her chair before they suddenly obliterated. The noise broke her from her stupor. She spun around and suddenly was standing up, towering over the two before her. This was all one big strange connection. With lightning fast speed her hand was suddenly gripping the handle of her Katana, and with one fluid move she withdrew it, in a blink and you'll miss it moment. The end glinted as it danced inches away from the man who called him "Cyrus". Her words were slow and calm, yet her voice... her voice held the simmering rage of a vortex. She used her other hand to slowly remove her helmet, her face finally revealed. Only one other person within the Belle Reve had seen it and that was the Warden.

Her eyes bore into the man before her.

"Who are you.. and what did you do with the real Cyrus? And don't bother in lying.. Unless you managed to grow back a hand while you were away, you are not him.." Her gaze moved to Shine. "Shine.. gather the others and the inmates in the therapy session and head to the debriefing room. I can only assume that the Warden will be there waiting." Small traces of Lightning danced around Levina's hand and her blade as she held it, just begging for this imposter to do something stupid. "You better tell me he's alive.."

 

[PlusUltra]

Closing her eyes Rachel waits as the two other girls square off, keeping her body between the two as each moves while pocketing her glasses. Fighting was one thing she knew well and she had learned it the hard way, and part of that was naturally not only how to throw attacks but also how to take them. She could only hope that the other two could understand eventually but this was needed, and the quicker they understood the less this was going to suck. It was a calculated risk, so she could only hope that her math would be checked out.

Rachel didn't dodge the feint but rolled with it, along with the one-two follow-up, yet despite the force she didn't drop as many others would have. Still keeping her stance between the two and shielding the smaller girl from the attacks.

*Another thing to thank Riley for, The full medical explanation got a little lost on her but the pout and frown her friend had given was something she remembered fondly before simplifying it as "Bubble Wrap around the brain, like a goat".*

She gave a sombre smile to Lilling as a dribble of blood flowed from her lips "More than you know, many with power often like to abuse it for confirmation to cement status. I guess I'm not most though" The strike from Lilling impacted her chest and was cushioned perhaps more than she had expected, eliciting more pain than damage as she spun with it but kept her footwork steady right as she took another.

The next attack to the stomach was like striking a tyre, tensing as it came and leaning backwards to lower herself right as the next went for her face but missed as she was pulled out of the way. Clenching her arm pit down she moved with the fall before pulling back to prevent Liling from falling before regaining her balance.

Her smile turned more genuine and soft at the girls next words while chastising the Australian, letting out a small laugh despite the damage so far "The smartest person in the room might not have subjected herself to a beatdown sandwich to try and show something, but thanks...and I'm lucky Sarahs not here or she would have quite the comeback to that claim. But regardless, I did say there was more than one way for a person not to be able to go further right?" She kept the smile, happy at least one of the two figured it out quickly.

Rachels expression quickly changed however at the sudden transformation of Shi, squinting a little to fully understand what she was seeing "That...if i had a quarter for every time id saw that, id have 50 cents...not a lot but its a weird it happened twice." If anyone around questioned that statement though she would turn to them and give some clarification "Long story, but someone tried screwing with our white mage, you never screw with the white mage."

 

[Aviator]

Azrael Emery // “the Conjurer” // Age 28 // Sixth Prince of Castillon // Illusionist
​

Azrael’s heart was sinking beneath the implications of Zod’s announcement. He had clawed his way to a new world after his own had gone up in flames, and now he was being told that this one was about to go the same way as Castillon. His plan to impersonate Cyrus Njeri just until he could escape to the world above and start a new life for himself was now in wreckage. The only viable move was to figure out how Njeri’s world-jumping gimmick worked—whether it was related to a unique ability that he possessed, or whether it had to do with a special object or location—and skip to the next world over. But who was to say that Zod wouldn’t expand his campaign of conquest to there when he was done with this world? Alternatively, jumping into an unknown world like opening a book at random had its inherent risks; perhaps it was dangerous even without Zod’s meddling, like dinosaurs still roamed the plains, or the oceans were an apocalyptic soup and the lands uninhabitable after a nuclear meltdown.

One thing was abundantly clear: This world did not possess the state-of-the-art atmospheric security systems to defend against extraterrestrial attack that Castillon had. Specially designed with viridium to detect activity on every wavelength of the electromagnetic spectrum (and then some), Zod’s fleet would have been instantly incinerated had it tried to breach the system without passing an identification check. Unless of course it was disabled by someone on the inside, who had access to every room in a building responsible for an entire city’s security. Azrael was coming to terms with the weight of his own ambitions, the scope of his foolishness. Not only had Zod swindeled him out of a kingdom and life as he knew it, but he was going to do it again and again with each new universe until he encountered a foe too fearsome to defeat. Nowhere was safe. Somehow, the destruction of the cosmos bothered Azrael less than the knowledge that it never would have happened if he hadn’t let himself be played, like a lover drawn in and deceived by sweet nothings whispered in the dark. Was this to be his legacy within the shared history books of the multiverse? Azrael, Accidental Antichrist, Apocalyptic Architect?

Sound cracked inside his head like a whip, snapping him back to reality with a jump. Before he could place the source of the noise, a prickle of pain shot through the back of one of his fingers, and two tiny dust clouds were swirling up from either side of Cappy’s chair. Slightly dumbfounded, he looked between the splinter embedded in his hand and the armrests that had been reduced to spiky remnants. The office chair had been designed to maximize comfort with luxury and had not been cheap to make. Azrael had only ever broken one office chair at the Citadel, and not only had it been accidental, but it had taken the combined efforts of two people squirming in it in positions that it had not been intended to accommodate. And it hadn’t been his office, either.

Azrael was trying to fend off a sneeze from the particles of wood in the air, and his attention was diverted when Cappy swept to her feet. Quick as a rumor spreading, a long, curved blade of silver was extended at him, the point hovering inches from his face. Cappy’s colossal shadow eclipsed him. Fear shivered through Azrael, and he resisted the defensive instinct to induce a vision in which Cappy was being strangled by her own shadow. Shadows were almost ubiquitous, and they were an easy go-to when inspiration for a more original illusion was lacking, or when one had to be created on the fly. After all, darkness was innately scary to most people.

A six-and-a-half-foot column of muscle and steel, Cappy cut quite the impressive figure as she reached up with her free hand and cast aside the helmet with the eerie blue glow emanating from the visor. Doing so revealed a pixie cut with a deep side part and a face of soft, elegant angles that, despite the gravity of the situation, Azrael couldn’t help thinking would have been very pretty with the help of a little makeup. Maybe some dabs of slate-gray shadow on the eyes and some silvery liner. A splash of vermillion on the lips. Together they’d create a palette like smoke and fire to complement Cappy’s fierce expression. Which inconveniently was leveled at Azrael. Emotion flickered through him as she accused him, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Fear for his future, if any was to be had? Rage at the unfair hand he’d been dealt to land himself in this situation? Sorrow for his recent mistakes and their ruinous outcome?

Njeri was missing a hand? Unwilling to believe it, Azrael flipped furiously through everything he knew of the lieutenant, all of their past interactions together. Njeri’s hands gloved in black leather as he punctuated his points with sweeping gestures. Njeri extending a gloved hand to Azrael, and the latter pausing for a moment of calculated discomfort before deigning to accept it. Njeri sipping the ridiculous beverage of hot chocolate he’d requested with those damn gloves still on. Azrael was quickly coming to the realization that he had never seen Njeri’s naked hands before, and according to Cappy, that was because only one of them was real. Dammit… what a careless oversight. I should have taken his gloves in addition to the coat, or at least included them in the illusion. Once again within a twenty-four-hour period, Azrael was left reeling over the magnitude of another mistake he’d made.

Cappy had told him not to lie, but Azrael was in the habit of giving orders, not taking them. He’d decide when his charade was over. Not that he had much to gain from it anymore aside from not getting caught, now that he’d have to abandon this world too. “I’m happy you noticed, Captain,” he began enthusiastically, doing his best to ignore the sword in front of his face. “Those magical properties of viridium I mentioned earlier? In a gesture of goodwill, the emperor demonstrated that the stones are capable of regenerating lost limbs. Typically the regrowth occurs over a two-week period because it’s exorbitantly expensive otherwise, but for a friend of the nation they were willing to—” Cappy’s sword slipped under Azrael’s chin, and his story broke off in a gasp at its cold kiss.

The room darkened visibly, as if a cloud had passed over the sun. The shadows seemed to congeal, pooling together like blood, slithering across the floor toward the desk. Above Cappy’s head, a many-legged shape with wicked pincers dangled by a thread from the ceiling. The fireplace gave a great whoosh! as the flames within twisted into a serpentine shape rearing its massive head. Azrael didn’t dare move his head for fear of Cappy’s blade slipping, but to his left he heard the legs of a chair scraping over the floor as New tensed. As if sensing that confidential information was soon to be revealed, Cappy promptly dismissed her subordinate. Azrael’s lip curled. “Yes, run along, Shine,” he taunted softly, using the name by which Cappy had addressed her and making it ring with phoniness. “Go play with your dolls while the adults discuss important things.”

Shine paused, as if reluctant to leave her captain alone with an unknown threat and a room filling with increasingly sinister shadows, but Cappy didn’t waver. Shine had some choice words for Azrael before departing, to which he mildly replied, “Ooh, how dirty. And here I thought you weren’t on my roster.” The door slammed behind New—Shine—whatever her name was—as she departed, but Azrael and Cappy’s gazes remained riveted on each other. The irreverent exchange with Shine had calmed Azrael’s nerves somewhat, and he eased back in his chair, feeling remarkably relaxed for a man at swordpoint. Fortunately, Cappy didn’t immediately leap forward to close the distance. “While I’m sure Njeri’s heart will be touched to know that his commanding officer cares for him so, you needn’t worry. Other than a nasty headache, he’ll be just fine when he wakes up. In four or five hours, of course.”

Azrael crossed one leg over the other. “I’m going to reach into my pocket for a cigar and lighter now,” he informed Cappy. He said it casually, without provocation, but there was nothing about his tone that insinuated he was asking permission. Moving slowly, Azrael brushed aside the newly transformed white peacoat and withdrew the aforementioned items from the deep lapel on his suit. He put the cigar between his lips and lit it, Cappy watching him the whole time with an expression that would freeze liquor. Azrael took a drag, feeling the low level of adrenaline that had been coursing through him all day draining out like gutter runoff after a heavy rain, leaving him lightheaded. The menacing dark shapes remained where they were, ready to spring into attack at a moment’s notice, but on an exhale of smoke he relinquished the illusion of Njeri’s appearance, reverting to pale-skinned, clean-cut, green-eyed Azrael.

He opened his eyes and rolled them pointedly up to Cappy. “Would you put your sword away, please? It’s making me nervous, and I wouldn’t want to do something impulsive that will probably cost us both,” he said reasonably. Cappy didn’t know what he was capable of, and he didn’t know what she was capable of. True to his word, Azrael did not wish for them to find out the hard way. He’d seen more than enough fighting yesterday. More than enough when the bombing by the European Union had claimed his mother’s life nineteen years ago. And after nineteen years of peace—a tense stalemate, but peace nonetheless—I orchestrated the first act of war on Castillon soil. Probably the last one, too. He wondered if Gabriella and Flora were still alive, if being a continent away had been enough to shield them from the massacre.

Cappy started hammering him with questions again, but Azrael cut her off midway through. “May I have a glass of water, please? Espresso if you have it.” She paused, obviously reluctant to let her guard down with a potential enemy in her midst—it’d already occurred to Azrael that she probably thought he was part of the invading force of Kryptonians. “Don’t worry. If I wanted to drive you mad, I could do it equally well with you staring me in the eye as with your back turned to me,” he said carelessly, tapping some ashes onto the carpet. “You have my word as a gentleman that I won’t attack while you get the drinks.” As if to emphasize his point, the shadows receded to the edges of the room, allowing Cappy to move without running headfirst into a creature that appeared to combine the scariest parts of a wolf and shark, and the flames shrank in the fireplace to a normal height. Azrael reclined lazily in his seat, turning his attention to his cigar and the transforming coat in a way that suggested he was done being helpful and informative until he was served.

 

[BuggaBoo]

---

Nouvelle - 'Shine'

​

Leaving Cappy's chambres after 'The Message' and the Mess...

It was always so weird to see Levina in her office.

If anything the decor and accoutrements in her office seemed to reflect lawyer or doctor, not some goddess alien that tossed jagged lighting at people. Always in decked up in that fully bodied, plated arrmour, eye slits ablaze with her emotions, the sense she got from Levina was a proud, battle-ready and battle-hardened warrior not some distinguished upperclass elite as her office touted her to be. But then again, there were whispers that on her planet, Levina was some type of a goddess. But then even further, that would beg the question; what type of goddess would abandon her planet? Nouvelle often wondered but never pried because out of any of the the curious, Nouvelle herself knew that sometimes the past was left for dead and buried no matter how shallow the grave.

When Levina offered the seats, the blue-headed Latina merely smiled politely, nodded and remained positioned by the door, sunglasses slid down upon her little brown face. It wasn't that she didn't want to sit and be a part of the discussion, no, she just knew her place and this was the arena of the officers now. Hands behind her back, stiffened spine she stood there and stared straight ahead. But of course little brown ears couldn't help but pick up on the words sent back and forth. And as for the sunglasses; they were expensive and fashionable, yes, but more importantly they were enchanted. Such items kept the dancing, present spirits at bay and allowed Nouvelle to not 'see nor hear' them and thus kept Levina's privacy respected lest a rogue spirit blurt something untoward for the spiritualist to inadvertantly hear.

As the convo pressed on she couldn't help but let a sigh or scoff escape her mouth accidentally. The braggart side of Cyrus really was disconcerting to her. Normally he was so stoic and dare she say, offputtingly bland to others. Yet to Nouvelle and a select handful of other guards, his stuffed sense of rules and accords was a breath of fresh air, to be honest. They respected him as a lieutenant but his stuffiness was something of which made light and it just became something to incessantly toss barbs his way. Not to demean him at all but to incite a reaction from him really. They were innocuous enough since it would just seem to bounce off of him and there were the moments where he would retort with something rather witty on a good day, endearing him that much more to said handful of select guards.

But now with his cloak seemingly acting with a mind of its own again, her suspicions of Cyrus being affected in some way during his Jump were confirmed. Something got to him over there; he was either hiding something from them or he had some kind of mind-altering encounter. Yes, the cloak was random in its ways but for whatever reason it never seemed to act up in front of Cappy. Until now and somehow co-incidentally after this brief stint of Cyrus acting more than just a bit off.

Upon the balls of her little feet, Nouvelle shifted from side to side, the first time acting out from her statuesque pose. All this talk about the viridium and trade for it, she felt she really shouldn't be here to witness this. It was as the saying goes; 'this was all above her paygrade.' And as such she would try her best to erase such talk from her mind but still... there was that one little niggling detail. The one about 'supernaturals'. And how these deposits of this miracle substance could be used to create a supernatural army. If that 'side-effect' somehow got into the wrong hands-- it wasn't Nouvelle that shuddered right now but the woman that came before her. Correction; it was the teen girl that came before her. The one who had her childhood robbed and violated by a shadowy spook organization called Sector XTC. It was a girl named 'Notti' that shuddered right now and it was Notti's mind right now that screamed with every single fibre of her being to line that portal with the most destructive explosives and nuke that abyssal thing into oblivion.

A deep calming breath she took and Notti was dispensed with a single comforting thought. The gateway was sealed by a runelock. It was hermetically sealed shut and magically hidden for certain; it shifted locations until the proper command 'will' was evoked upon stating the 'keyholder's' recognized name.

But all those thoughts and inner turmoil were lost in a heartbeat. The wide-screen above their heads flashed, jarringly alive and not unlike a pin to a balloon in stark contrast to the sombre nature of Captain Maelstrom's elegant chambre. Despite his intensity and seriousness, the man on the screen and his message was laughable upon first blush. Such a stunt could easily be tossed into the trash as merely a hacker with hoax on the brain. Now unless the hacker was some kind of meta-human prankster that went through all that trouble to remotely turn on a screen in a highly secured space then a hoax it most definitely was. But then again... Nouvelle slowly pulled her phone out of her pocket and just as slowly slid her sunglasses up onto her forehead. An 'O' shaped her full lips and big dark eyes blinked several times in an attempt to re-affirm reality. Then big dark eyes grew even bigger with each straining heartbeat.

What meta-human could ever be able to turn on and broadcast the same message onto her phone at the exact same moment? And perhaps it was a bad idea to lift her sunglasses but to seal the deal that this truly was an alien invasion, now that she had lifted her sunglasses, the spirits were more than in her ear. They were a silvery choir of chaos, assaulting her very being, a massive tidal wave hitting her so hard, her head snapped back. Nouvelle was reeling; for that amount of spirits to have such a seemingly co-ordinated reaction, it meant that a great number of people had been afflicted by something great... Like perhaps a message that flashed concurrently across all screens all across the globe, claiming their extinction. A lone brown hand massaged her temple furiously as the other wiped the wet crimson leaking from her nose. Dark blue eyebrows knit tightly over even tighter shut eyes. A deep calming breath she took and yet still, the next sound from her lips were but a breathless whisper. But still they formed words. They were the one and the same she uttered aloud earlier in response to the spirirs claim not realizing how premonitory their meaning really was.

"...the Winds of Change aren't always for the better..."

A sharp explosion snapped her out of her spirit-stricken sensory shock. And in its wake Nouvelle literally saw the face of a goddess appear. Despite her awareness returning, the 'O' still remained at her lips. Never once had she ever thought she'd ever see the day that she would regard the face behind that imtimidating masked helm of the Maelstrom. Beautiful was but a mere mortal word insulting the visage revealed for the pair. Even the sound of Levina's voice was doing such godly work on her ears as of right now Nouvelle could barely register what the woman had stated and commanded.

"Shine.. gather the others and the inmates in the therapy session and head to the debriefing room. I can only assume that the Warden will be there waiting.

The wicked blade held at this 'imposter's' throat as shadows danced, whispering that all the monsters from underneath the bed realized they were real and were right here right now. But even all of that coupled with the face reveal was not a distraction enough as the spirits relentless pounded down upon her other worldly sensory, demanading they be heard, aggressively stating, taunting her. In a sing-song unified voice, they pointed at her, denouncing her even, that she was not as great and powerful as she 'falsely' saw herself. No matter the amount of supersoldier training and shamanic embodiment she held dear, it was still not enough to deny the truth; Novelle Tiamo had been duped. The silly blinded and womanly dullard had lead an assassin into--

But no that's not what he was truly. A small voice amongst the deriding chorus of triumphant spirits dissented and spoke to her about the imposter. To add to the sinister ambiance, the scent of blood permeated the air as Shine's eyes lit up but a dull glow whilst she mumbled in her DreamSpeak back to the dissenting voice, "What the hell are you talking about...?"

Then she saw just what exactly it was talking about and her eyes blazed alive with their fiery azure shine. The room became crystal clear in her mind's eye. He was not an assassin. <<Captain, this is Shine. Affirmative. I'm on it. But listen, 'A child fears the dark but she should not fear the truth of the shadows'>> Shine quoted the spirit's insights <<look at the wall beyond the fire snake. It's casting a shadow. Fire does not block light from its own source. It's not real, Levina. See that and nail this asshole to the wall.>>

“Yes, run along, Shine,” he taunted softly, using the name by which Cappy had addressed her and making it ring with phoniness. “Go play with your dolls while the adults discuss important things.”

"Yeah, I'll go let all Captain Maelstrom's dollies know exactly what you are and maybe they'll let you live after you tell us where the REAL Cyrus is. I'll see ya in your dreams, loverboy..."

<<This is Shine. Rocket, comms are live... and have I gots a story for you...>>

A glowing azure eyed wink she tossed him. Little did he know that her little quip about dreams wasn't a mere toss away barb. He could manipulate perceptions into illusions. She could manipulate dreams into realities. No, it wasn't a toss away barb. It was a promise.

Dread Rocket

Breaking dissention and heading to Debriefing...

<<This is Dread Rocket. Hold that thought, Shine. We are nearing neck deep in the 'shit hitting the fan-o-meter', folks.

Captain, we are losing control out here. You need to get on PA or something! The message is spreading like wild fire amonst the gainfully employed, ya heard? Right. But listen, we do have it suppressed from general populace in the jungle. But at least 5 inmates were in common room when the screens went live and the extiction level event message was broadcast. We have them segregated and held out of the jungle temporarily but that's not the real problem. Not even close.

We have a mass desertion taking place amongst the ranks of the guards. The rest are trying to herd the wild animals back into cages but its looking bleak. We need orders and directions post haste, ya heard? Captain, we need you out here!

Right. But let's get tasked. This is mama wolf, i need sit reps and twenties from all'yall. Squad, we live? Fall in:

Dread Rocket, live. Leaving remand. Collared and 'suppressed' a pair of hysterical guards that had eyes on the gym stirring up some panic.>>

<<Shine, live. With Xen and leaving Cappy's chabre's and headed to gather Squad in debrief for address from Warden Hollows. So, squad, meet n' greet asap. Cappy's orders...!>>

<<Wither, live. Be there in 5. With Deluge in cell block K, herding animals.>>

<<Veil, live. With Pixie in R&D labs. Give us 5 too. Setting up collars for the listed inmates.>>

<<Ohhh... wow... a huge serving of Warden word salad? Orale, I'm so hard right now-->>
<<--Cut the shit, Toy!>>
<<Hahahah... okay, okay, D. Ahem. Killtoy, live. In outer rec, busting skulls and kneecaps, what else is new? I'll take 5 and raise you 2 more mins. Es una locura aqui, they all aggro outside, man. Pero... ey, just where the hell you at, Lace?>>

<<Xenolith, live. With my girl, Shine. We taking the stairs to debriefing, I'm sliding us. Well, well, well. Cappy, yo, we just found some guards plotting escape. Want names and badges?>>

<<Deluge, live. With my psycho sis. But legit, I think we gonna have to use powers for this herding, Dreads...>>

<<Pixie, live. With V. Dude-man-guey, yo! Any you seen the screens! Vatos starting a riot on Cell block F. Puta de puta madre...! Like they literally effed up in F, dudes!>>

<<Dammit. Dammit. Right and I take it Janhari still unestablished with comms still? Alright. Do what you do best, squad ,then haul ass. Pix, V, Wits, Del. Stand by. Might need you to check up on Warden's little Listed playthings in therap-- Wait. Yo. Lacerations, Jaunter...! Come in. Respond, you two! Dammit! Lacey!! J!! The hell? You best not be playin-->>

<<Ohhh guys... my gosh... my gosh, I'm sorry... but... I'm soooooo sorry but my boys... I just... I just can't. I'm soooo sorry-->>

<<Hey squad. It's been great serving with you but if this is it... my mom... she... my wife, my family, hers... but I mean... me too. I'm so sorry too...>>

The ensuing silence was as loud as it was heart-wrenching.

<<Ahem.... Captain, squad will... we'lll be rendezvous'ing at debriefing asap. Come in, respond please, Cap. We need you and Hollows to get some control back down here, ya heard? Captain, call back, please. Need prompting to proceed against defectors and detainees amongst the gainfully employed. Not to mention the fubar in Cell block F. Awaiting further orders...>>

The remainder of the squad held their collective breaths awaiting judgement upon the deserters some had known for years upon years.

---

 

[TobiornotTobi]

Rodrick Unger​

Belle Reve Penitentiary​

"Time for some physical therapy: Outback Style!"​

---

Rodrick continued to look on as Shi made her move, whatever that would be. Was she trying get the drop on Missy Kimmy? What beef did she have with her? It's not like she had a bone to pick with the therapist turned savage taskmaster, unlike the main man himself or her new best friend Liling. Maybe Missy Kimmy was just a stop on her path to the ring? Yeah, great, that's just what we need. Four girlies huggin' it out in the ring, singin' kumbaya. Yuck. Speaking of the ring, Liling and Violettin had ceased fighting entirely, the only person who had sustained damage being Rachel. She had done exactly what he predicted, and Rodrick no longer had any complaints if she stayed at the bottom of his list for all eternity. She was a real warlord, alright. Waging a one-woman war on his nerves, two if you counted the honey badger next to her. And when Rodrick noticed Rachel giving him a disapproving look, the Australian snorted in defiance. But despite his best efforts to remain cool and aloof, Rodrick averted his eyes from her gaze. Turning his attention back to more pressing matters, Rodrick decided to talk up Jupiter again. He had just finished trash-talking with his newfound rival, but Rodrick was bored. And when things started to get dull, he wanted to talk.

"Looks like the fight's over, in the lamest way possible," He started before turning to face Jupiter. "So, who was your money on? I was bankin' on Violettin for sure! I mean come on, look at that Sheila!"

Rodrick had zero doubt in his mind that she would absolutely black out on Liling, despite having only interacted with the woman once. The crazed look that shone in her eyes oozed with crackhead energy. And he'd know, he arrested perps like that all the time while working as an officer. Violettin was ready for a fight, no, she was fiending for one, still itching for blood from when she slammed that other inmate's head on the table over and over. Unfortunately for her, there would be no blood for the blood god. Or blood goddess, in this case. Before Rodrick could even hear his fellow inmate's response to his betting question, a child-like scream interrupted the conversation. Rodrick immediately turned to Violettin, wholly expecting the high-pitched battle cry to belong to her as she lunged at honey badger, aiming right for the jugular. To his surprise, it wasn't her. Instead, Rodrick's eyes locked on Missy Kimmy as she carefully gathered up a orange jumpsuit laying on the ground into her arms. Rodrick put his head on a swivel and scanned the room. Wait, where did Shi go?

His question was answered when Missy Kimmy shifted the clothing in her hands to reveal a crying baby with multi-colored hair. Rodrick's eyes widened as he put two and two together and discerned the identity of the therapy chain gang's newest addition. Looks like Shi was trying to lay a smack down on Missy Kimmy, who discovered the attack and retaliated. And with her broad range of powers, the therapist had turned the human pinball into an ankle-biter! Despite the situation, Rodrick had to give Shi props. With all the abilities Missy Kimmy wielded, she still went for an ambush. That girl was ballsy as hell. Hopefully, the transformation wasn't permanent, or the supposed team that was being put together would be kaput. Unless Missy Kimmy wants an infant to do kitchen work. But that would cruel, even by her standards. After a moment, Rodrick revised his statement. On second thought, something like that was right up that psycho's alley. The rest of the room was speechless, save for Shi's crying and Missy Kimmy's cooing to her new ward. And just as much as he hated the sound of babies crying, he hated laying about doing nothing. Time for Rodrick Unger to save the room from awkward silence!

"Whoo!" He began, partially to get everyone's attention on him, and also because it was a habit of his when he got excited. "This has been one hell of a therapy session, huh, mates?" Rodrick continued, taking a wild guess that the rules regarding the Baton of Truth were out the window, along with Missy Kimmy's guise of being relatively normal. He began to rise from his chair, but paused. Sucking in his butt cheeks, the Australian rose to his feet and rotated his upper body. "Memories were made, friends were made, then one of the friends was turned into an ankle-biter. Highlight of my week for sure."

Once he finished stretching, Rodrick walked straight for the ring. "This is what happens when you pick the least interested people to participate, they let you down!" He said as he passed Missy Kimmy and baby Shi. He then flashed a grin. "But don't worry, I'm gonna give you exactly what you wanted!" As he began approaching its center, Rodrick made a shooing gesture to the girls standing in it. "Alright, you three had your fun. If you don't want to get caught in the crossfire, back up." Once he was in the center, Rodrick raised his index finger into the air and dramatically turned until he was pointing directly at his rival, Jupiter. His grin grew even wider as their eyes met. Rodrick knew what was going down, and he knew Jupiter knew what was going down.

"Jupiter, will you do me the honor of being the first bloke I'll have beaten in over a year?" Rodrick challenged daringly.

The moment was perfect. It was exactly as he envisioned it in his head about thirty seconds ago when the idea popped into his mind. Rodrick Unger, after a whole year of fisticuff celibacy, was about to get his fix. Nothing could ruin this moment. Not even the end of the world.

 

[BuggaBoo]

---

Shi - The Rainbow UNICORN!!

​

Baby Shi crying. And then she heard her...

Shock. Fading energy. Fading thoughts. The last thing she remembered was falling. And the crying.

Oh the crying. It was the worst sound.

She wasn't even going to do anything to Kimmy. All Shi was really doing was seeing if she could still channel spirits.

There was a time before all this when she didn't know any better. It was only 2nd nature to listen to her. Auntie Jackie was one of the only adults she trusted. Auntie Jackie was there where her strung out, drunken and drugged up folks never were. Auntie Jackie was her everything. Shi wasn't Shi back then, no Shi was a 9yr old girl named Ashya. Oh how she hated it, but they actually called her 'Ashy' back then and Ashy was soooooo proud. It was her day of passing her rite into 'being seen'. In other words, she was going to be an official Witch. It really all was just a matter of ritual and others in her coven bearing witness of her becoming a witch to seal the deal. A really for real witch... Ashy was just a 9 yr old girl beaming from ear to ear that very moment she woke up in the morning.

And then she went to school and they saw her scars. Little Ashya said that she was proud of them and said her parents did it so that she could bear the '''touch" now. They accused her parents of child abuse and called the province. That very day of her proudest day, they took her away from her home and her sister. And her beloved Auntie Jackie. She was never officially 'seen' as a witch.

And ooooh how Ashy cried. Like a baby. Just like the disgusting weak and pathetic cry of a baby. It was the worst sound.

But the last person she saw before they took her into the child care services offices was Auntie Jackie. And Auntie Jackie told her that crying was okay. And there was beauty in its sound. It was a melody and a plea. To the spirits and to those deserved to claim such rites, only they could know such things.

And even a baby could make such pleas to the spirits and deserve to claim such rites. Because despite her small brown body flailing those chubby arms, wailing little mouth drooling that spittle and baby brain bumbling through incoherent thoughts, she still had power. Kimmy had shrunk her into a disgusting weak and pathetic crying baby but she did not break the rituals and her rites. And the ink on her little brown body still remained.

Auntie Jackie's last thing she said to Ashy, Ashy wouldn't realize its significance until she was 16. 'When you find yourself in the darkest moments. Know you are not alone. Cry out and she will be there. Cry out and look for her in the moon.'

Kimmy had rendered her physically useless by shrinking her into a baby. But it was also her biggest mistake.

Because baby Ashy was crying again. She was crying for her in her dark moment. And for over 60 days she couldn't hear Ashy but now she could.

Upon her knee she bounced the blubbering chubby brown thing with the rainbowy-haired head. Oh and but she was small. Cute but reeeeeeally small. And still inked up. Kimmy made a huuuuuuge mistake by turning Shi into a tiny baby.

Down there laying upon the floor at the feet of Missy Pissy, peeking through the draping orange folds of the hanging jumpsuit, was a hint of powdered coated steel.

Ashy was sooooo cute and sooooo small. Small enough for the inhibitor collar to slip off her cute small brown inked up body.
Baby Ashy cried one last time.

A heartbeat later every single hue of the rainbow exploded from her tattoos. Less than a heartbeat after that both Kimmy's knees snapped and she was crushed by the weight of an adorable, ivory bodied, silvery horned, sapphired eyed, gorgeous flowing maned, tufted tailed, 679lb UNICOOOOOOOOOOOORN!!

"Ohhhhh my gooooooosh! I think I squished the bad lady hahahahahahah!" the voice of the Unicorn!! was that of tinkling aethereal wind chimes played by singing, dancing fairies and smelled of tasty candies and freshly cut flowers. Some would say it sounded better than the grating whispering rocks of Shi's voice. Some would say it was worse. Either way it was joyous. And loud, "OOOOOOOOOO look at that!!"

The pony sized mythological beast stood up off the body of Kimmy, a pair of hooves stepping on her as before prancing over to the pretty, pretty colourful pics on the walls. As if oblivious to their presence she basically barged right past the trio of women engaged in middle of the main event of Kim's Bloodsport Royale Ring of Team Trauma Bonding!! The side card event with mouth powered Aussie vs. dude whose name she couldn't remember but maybe he like planets? was delayed. Yet again.

Anyways, several desks and chairs were scattered and trampled or even outright flattened as the Unicorn made her way over to inspect the lovey, kaleidescope coloured decor. Big, lavishly lush dark eyelashes fluttered, "Yeah, yeah! I like this. I do! Wooooow its allll soooooo pretty! Yay!!"

She leapt up and down like a little filly, golden mane swishing this way and that, dancing to their own rhythmic beat. A terrible noise not unlike a nail being dragged down a chalk board sounded out. Well, actually it really was just like a nail dragged down a chalkboard. Or more accurately, a horn.

"Ooooops!" Big sapphire eyes crossed as they stared at the gash angling downward in the chalk board, "hey but at least its still sharp! Hahahahahah! OHMYGOSH!! OOoooooo... Know what?"

The unicorn spun around and faced the rest of the inmates and bounced up and down, squishing more furniture, glee obviously glistening in her eyes and shiny muscular, ivory coat, "My FRIENDS are here! Well not here exactly... BUT!! In the next room over! Wanna meet them? You do?! Yay! Okaaaaaaay here we go!"

The Unicorn leapt once, spun mid air, muscles rippling aross her hindquarters and gave a tremendous kick. A loud crash sounded out but the door did not break. The reinforced monster merely buckled, a large dent distorting its centre. "Hmmmm outta practice I guess... looks like they want to keep people in here. But I'm not people... I'm a Unicorn!!"

A silvery glow took over saphhire eyes. "I am MOON PRISM!! And I will PUNISH YOU!! YAY!!"

Motes of reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, indigoes, violets danced away in time with giddyup abandon to her tune of her humming. Colours made of the aether lights coalesced, a rainbow slowly forming neath the Unicorn's hooves, "MOON PRISM... RAINBOW CHAAAAAAAAARGE!!"

A flash of all colours of the aethereal-charged rainbow caused a surge in power and fried the cameras. A heartbeat later, the door was absolutely blown offa the hinges and slammed against the wall beyond. it had been driven deeply into the wall, massive cracks radiating around its embedded form, stuck fast. Out in the hallway, Moon Prism floated there, riding her glowing rainbow deck. She grinned a wide happy infectious grin and winked a precious gem blue eye at the others. "C'mon, you guys! Lets go meet my friends!"

Another primordial yet melodic cry from the Unicorn. Another rainbowy flash. Another reinforced blast door absolutely wrecked and ripped right off its hinges. A heartbeat later the unicorn pranced midway into the room, beaming at the shocked faces of the other inmates of group 2. For some strange reason they were gathered in a circle and playing cards. "HIIIIIII!! I'm MOON PRISM!! I know some of you but I'm only here for Silverblade and Riptide! Yay! What's good fellas! HI!! Ohhh... Q... poor, poor woof-woof... do we still gots beef...? Do we? Cuz like If you want I could curbstomp you oooooorrrr we could just squash our beef-- OHMYGOSH!!"

Sapphire eyes popped wide as she stared over at the arms and legs stickin out from beneath the blast door on the floor, "Awwwww man... I just squished another therapist! OOOPS!"

Just as suddenly as her ears drooped, they popped up alert again, "Oooohhh you guys all get to play cards in here?! Is that your bonding technique?! We had to do beatdown team bonding on each other over there on our side hahahhahah! Mmmmmkay well keep playing! Silverblade! Riptide! Come with me and meet everyone else in my group and my neeeeeew bestie, LILING!! YAAAAAY!!"

The two big and collar-wearing men shrugged, stood and sauntered over out into the hallway. Once more Moon Prism bounced up and down, hooves clacking on the concrete floor gleefully, "Oooooooo, everyone! Everyone, meet my friends; Silverblade and RIptide! Niiiiice right? K so what now? Ooooooo should we escape?"

Big doll-like sapphire eyes crossed and shone with hope and joy settling in on a vision upon a new, rose-coloured horizon. A golden halo manifested from her emotions, glowing into life and floated happily just above her adorable head,"OOOOOO but know what? We should go get something to eat at SugarBois!! Its close and like just offa the highway! I haven't eaten a proper meal since last night and they have the bestest veggie burgers! Mmmmmkay lets frickin' go! YAAAAAAY!!"

MOON PRISM!! The Rainbow UNICORN!! YAY!! - Shi​

---

 

[deadly king]

Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary; Lousiana
Prisoner #10792
[ redacted ]
JUPITER

​

---

Jupiter’s eyes darted between Rodrick, who was still dramatically pointing at them from the center of the ring, and the absolute pandemonium unfolding around them. Shi—or rather, Moon Prism—was now a full-fledged unicorn, wreaking havoc with the sort of reckless abandon that only a mythical creature seemingly unaware of its strength could manage. Every rainbow-infused step sent furniture crashing, and the room had gone from tense to utterly surreal in mere moments. Chairs were smashed, tables flipped, and that massive blast door was wedged deep into the wall like a trophy of the being's power.

Rodrick still had that wild grin plastered across his face, clearly thrilled at the prospect of finally getting into a brawl, completely unbothered by the chaos Moon Prism had just unleashed. Meanwhile, Jupiter found themselves at a loss for words. The absurdity of the situation hit them all at once: a therapy session gone off the rails, a literal unicorn prancing about, and this Aussie man, with a grin that practically screamed punch me, asking for a fight like they weren’t all about to get crushed by a runaway mythological beast.

Jupiter sighed sharply through their nose, shaking their head, as a hand ran through their blond hair, disbelief coloring their features. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Not because of the impending fight, but because somehow, this—whatever this was—had become their reality. They weren't even wearing any of their proper gear and here Rodrick was, trying to pick a fight like they hadn’t just witnessed a 679-pound unicorn crush Kimmy and blow the doors off their hinges.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second,” Jupiter said, “Let’s just pause the whole ‘fight to the death’ thing for a moment here.” They gestured towards the hallway, now fully exposed thanks to Moon Prism's “Rainbow Charge” that had blasted the doors clean off. “Our friend here just literally blew the prison doors off their hinges. I think we’ve got bigger priorities than throwing punches, don’t you?”

The mercenary followed Rodrick's gaze, finally noticing the gaping hole that used to be a reinforced door. No guards, no alarms, and none of this 'group bonding' crap Miss Kimmy was so adamant about. Everyone could go straight out of the room. Maybe for a moment, Rodrick could look past his need to get his ass kicked and see the grand picture.

“Yeah, you see it now, don’t you?” Jupiter said, a small smirk forming. “We’ve got an out—an actual chance to get the hell out of here." They started walking toward the now-open hallway, stepping over the debris and wreckage without a second thought. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sign up for this chaos. And thanks to our lovely unicorn friend,” they paused, shooting a glance at Moon Prism, who was still blissfully prancing about outside, “we’ve got a ticket out of this shithole.” Jupiter turned back to Rodrick, their arms spread wide in a mock invitation, eyes slowly going up and down the tall man. “So, what’s it gonna be? Stick around and fight me for no good reason, or walk out of here and enjoy some fresh air for the first time in God knows how long?”

 

[Aviator]

Liling // “Verdigris” // Age 9 // Inmate // Artificial Intelligence // Cat Burglar and Pianist
​

Liling snorted as she and the two other women were herded off of the colorful rug of a tree with books sprouting from it in place of fruit, unable to believe that this oversized peabrain was still trying to organize fight night when one of their companions had been turned into a literal baby. She resisted the urge to stick out a leg and trip Mister Unger, self-proclaimed bad boy, as he passed. “If crossfire is a fancy word for the consequences of your own idiocy, then I want nothing to do with it,” she replied tartly. She looked to where Missy Kimmy was still cooing over the eerily tattooed, rainbow-haired baby on her lap.

Liling’s stomach flipped as she suddenly understood the meaning of the room’s juvenile aesthetics. Did Missy Kimmy frequently transform defiant inmates into infants as some kind of bizarre punishment? What happened to them afterward? Were the effects reversible in some more convenient way than naturally aging back over time? Liling had been born with remarkably the same physique as her current one, and with all of the O-rings, connection studs, race car suspensions, and lightweight aircraft frames that comprised her internal structure, she did not know what would happen if Missy Kimmy tried using that particular ability on her, and she did not care to find out. Not wanting to provoke the superpowered therapist’s ire, she discreetly circled around the squaring-up boys so that they formed a barrier between her and Shi’s new caregiver.

Her tolerance for the many outlandish twists and turns of the day was rapidly waning. Her fingers itched, and on impulse, she reached for one of the two cigarettes with which Shi had rewarded her for coming to her defense in the cafeteria. In a smooth, well-practiced blur of motion, she brought up her cigarette and lighter simultaneously and had it lit as soon as it touched her lips, banking on the hope that Missy Kimmy was too distracted with her smallest ward to notice. Liling was halfway through her first drag when her nic stick promptly fell out of her mouth, which had fallen open in utter shock.

The subsequent snap of furniture and bones was on par with a typhoon ripping off a redwood branch. It made Liling jump and bring her arms up instinctively, fearing that Levina had materialized with a crack of lightning to reestablish order, and high-voltage punishment awaited all those who resisted. And then, through the screen that the beefy-chested blond men provided, a massive shape the color of cornsilk glistened faintly. Beneath it protruded two fiery-red stilettos attached to legs bent at gruesome angles, like the Wicked Witch of the East’s stockinged feet peeping out from underneath the house that had crushed her. A thunderbolt of disbelief crashed through Liling, frying all her circuits, upending everything in the world that made sense. The thing that had turned Missy Kimmy into a smear on the floor moved, turning an oblong head attached to a four-legged body. A silvery spire jutted out from between the twinkling cobalt orbs it had for eyes. Liling was about to conclude that it was a horse, when inexplicably, the horse spoke. If she understood it, did that mean she was crazy? Maybe a week or two in solitary isn’t such a bad idea, she thought. Because out here I am losing my fucking mind.

She glanced around the room to check the reactions of her fellow inmates, if they could see and hear the horse that was sitting on top of Missy Kimmy too. To her slight assurance, one of the new combatants had paused to stare in a similar direction. And then, with another crunch! of brittle, broken things, the horse stood, revealing a flattened corpse, skull dented, white blouse splashed liberally with various organic fluids, its hand outstretched toward the abandoned circle of metal that had been its undoing. But there was no tiny naked form among the wreckage. As understanding dawned on Liling, her throat constricted, as if there were a large rock she was trying to swallow. The horse—no, unicorn—was what Shi had transformed into after shedding her collar, which had become suddenly too big for her. Hysteric sounds bubbled up Liling’s throat, and unable to contain the wild swells and dips of emotion within herself any longer, they burst free from her in something halfway between laughing and crying.

“Shi, you damn clever, oversized, equine thing, you,” Liling breathed when she regained control of her voice. In the meantime, the unicorn had pranced over to the wall with the papier-mâché bumblebees and cut a wide slash through the biggest bee, as if decapitating the queen. The unicorn clucked to herself in a voice like sugar, spice, and everything nice as she swung around, kicking, and crumpled the door. When this wasn’t enough to break it outright, something even more ridiculous happened. The colors of the rainbow swirled around her, and then they were engulfing the door, blasting it off its hinges. The dingy gray of the corridor beyond stared impassively back at the occupants of the therapy room. Liling found that she was quickly becoming conditioned to the ridiculous. And in this instance, if it meant escape, she was quite fond of the idea.

Beaming, Liling tentatively followed the horse toward the newly created hole in the wall. Oh, they were going to get into a boatload of trouble for this stunt—if the guards caught them, of course. “Yeah, let’s go meet your friends, girlie,” Liling said, feeling dazed as she took her first steps unmonitored by camera in eighteen months. Her first steps to freedom, if they acted fast. She broke into a run. “‘Scu’ me, gents!” she cried as she sprinted past Rodrick and Jupiter. “Move aside, Uranus!” Her shoulder connected with his chest when he didn’t move fast enough, she bounced off, and made after the unicorn, the most powerful inmate in all of Belle Reve right now. She shimmied carefully through the gaping hole, mindful not to cut herself on any jagged edges.

With another blinding flash of light, the door to the next therapy room caved inward, revealing a circle of meatheads sitting on the floor in various states of discomfort as they played cards. “Hiya, fellas,” Liling said, chest puffed out superiorly as she sauntered up beside the unicorn. Their chatter instantly fell away, as did one man’s poker hand. She recognized Q, along with the two men who had been terrorizing Shi when the cafeteria brawl had broken out. Liling gave them a little mocking wave. Ten minutes ago, she would have bristled had Shi named her bestie in front of a group of hardened criminals, but now she didn’t mind the affiliation. In fact, she welcomed it. “Yeah, that’s right, Shi and I go way back!” Liling exclaimed. “A whole ninety minutes and twice as many broken bones ago!” She could not pretend to summon even a hint of remorse at Missy Kimmy’s death. At least it had been quick, and that was probably more than the monstrous woman deserved.

When she’d finished bouncing in excitement, all her friends introduced, the unicorn seemed at a loss of what to do. “I think escape is a lovely idea,” Liling agreed pleasantly. “And if we manage it, I just might eat a veggie burger with you.” She resisted the urge to throw her arms around the unicorn’s neck and pull her close. Liling was cooler than that. She had a reputation to maintain. And they had to actually escape before they celebrated. Liling was a fast runner, but doubtless she’d be no match for a unicorn, especially one that could bend the rainbow to her will and possibly run fast as light. Good fuck, how did they manage to capture something this ridiculously powerful in the first place? She destroys things without even trying. Or noticing, Liling thought, incredulous. “Hey, Sh—um, Moon Prism?” she said carefully, not wanting to disrespect her potential savior and fall out of favor. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but um… can I ride you? Like, pretty please?” She covered her flush with a broad smile.

The idea seemed to delight the unicorn so much that a golden halo coalesced around her head. “Well, aren’t you an open book,” Liling murmured to herself. “I love you so much right now, girlie, but don’t you ever play poker.” She carefully backed up in the wide open space where a door had once been. There were no stirrups to use as a boost, and Moon Prism was a tad bigger than your average Thoroughbred. Liling would have to get a running start. A look of steely determination on her face, she sized up her target, locked eyes atop the unicorn’s back where she would land. And then she rushed forward, generating a few steps of momentum before flowing into a tumbling pass replete with a handspring, several flips, and a few tight twists, gaining ten feet in the air at the height of her arc. She stifled the well-ingrained instinct to keep her legs together on the descent, bracing herself as she landed with one leg on either side of the unicorn. Her hands knotted in the unicorn’s mane for balance. An instant later, pain surged through the fork of her legs, and Liling winced. It was only slightly more awful than falling on a balance beam, and it was a small price to pay for freedom.

Between gritted teeth, she cried, “Now giddy up! Mush! Or whatever keyword gets you moving.” She had never ridden a horse before, let alone ridden one bareback, and she felt alarmingly high up off the ground. A twist of vertigo that she had never experienced on the trapeze went through her, making her vision blur. Moon Prism shifted, and Liling felt the pressing loss of control one feels when something else alive and with a mind of its own is one’s mode of transportation. She flattened herself against Moon Prism’s back and wrapped her arms around the unicorn’s neck as firmly as she could, hopefully without choking her. Nerves fluttered in Liling’s stomach as she prepared for the ride of her life.

 

[Jigajig]

Captain Levina Noe/ Maelstrom
Location - Belle Reve/Her office
Mood - Danger Level ⚠⚠⚠


​

Levina's gaze never faltered as they bore into the man before her, her eyes dancing over them. The tip of her Katana glinted slightly as she regarded him. When they spoke about Njeri her eyes narrowed slightly. At least he was alive.. well according to this person anyway. Her eyes followed the hand movement as they slowly reached into the coat for a cigar. As if they were a magican performing a trick, when he inhaled and exhaled a puff of smoke the illusion crumbled to reveal the imposter. Her gaze had shifted ever so slightly to the shadows when the fire had erupted. Above her, what appeared to be a colossal shadow like spider hung from a single thread, behind a serpent, posied to strike like the vicious viper that it was.

It was then Shine spoke to her. <<Captain, this is Shine. Affirmative. I'm on it. But listen, 'A child fears the dark but she should not fear the truth of the shadows look at the wall beyond the fire snake. It's casting a shadow. Fire does not block light from its own source. It's not real, Levina. See that and nail this asshole to the wall.>> Levina rose an eyebrow and then nodded to Shine, a very faint smirk dancing upon her lips. She turned her gaze back to this new figure and was about to speak before he cut her off asking for a glass of water. Of all the times to do something stupid and they chose this moment? Who did he think he was asking for water, when he broke into Belle Reve, impersonated a staff member and now was trying to intimidate her with shadows and more illusions? She drew her Katana away from him and put it back into it's sheathe. She certainly did not need it for him.. When the shadows moved and danced about her office, shrinking back she finally spoke once more. Her voice was calm and collected. In this moment she needed to remain calm, as the situation was getting more and more out of hand by the minute.
"A glass of water? Of course why not? Whilst I'm at it would you like to light that cigar for you again? Perhaps give you a haircut and maybe shine your shoes?" She looked down at him and leaned over him, her towering figure looming over him. "I know they are not real.. You see Shine there just told me.. So you are in quite a spot of trouble.. so how about you start talking and tell me just who you are and what you are doing here.. Am I correct in assuming that they have something to do with you?" She waved her hand at the TV. "And also.."

She then froze standing up as another voice rang in her head. Dread Rocket was speaking to her. Then another and another. A whole cacophony of voices sprung out from the live link. She quickly looked at the man before her, before whipping around and striding over to the monitors upon the wall. Hitting a button the camera feed went live onec more and showed her that Belle Reve was not good. Not good at all. The riot from before? A godamm picknick compared to what she was seeing right now. The entire damn prison was into full on riot mode. Small pockets of guards fought back other guards. Inmates fought inmates. Guard VS inmates. Wait.. was that a giant unicorn?!

It was to be blunt a clusterfuck shitshow and Levina for all her effort of being calm knew it was time. The once calm and collected Captain Levina was no more.. instead there was only.... Maelstrom. Turning around she slowly walked to her desk and picked up her helmet putting it back on, it hissed slightly as it clicked into place. The eye slits lit up and looked down upon the man before her. "You will follow. That is not a request, that is not a statement, that is an order. Failure to do so and there will not be even a skeleton for people to identify."

With that the sighed and pressed a button on her desk. The intercom crackled into life and Levina's voice blared through the speakers. "Attention Belle Reve! This is Captain Levina Noe of the guard speaking. ALL inmates are to return to their cells immediately. Anyone who fails to comply with this order will be dealt with by me personally.." She let the threat linger and to strike the point home, a very loud resounding boom erupted from outside the prison, it reverberating through ever nook and cranny in the entire complex. Said noise? A truly magnificent single bolt of pure Primodial lighting had rained down outside, creating a very large twenty foot crater the entire area around it scorched to cinders, the air with brimming with electricity. Storm clouds circled above the prison, as if angry guard dogs, ready to strike at a moments notice with a order from their master. "As for those among the guards who feel the need to.. "Retire" early let me tell you this.."

She leaned in her face right infront of the micophone as she spoke. "By now I'm sure you are all aware of the broadcast. For those of you who may have been living under a rock until now, they are Kryptonian.. the same race as Superman.. So by all means go head and leave but you will be fighting an army of Supermen... alone.. Belle Reve right now is most probably one of the safest places on the planet. So please.." She sighed and shook her head trying to find the right words to convey her emotions. "Please stay.. if you leave, I can say with one hundred percent certitude you will die. I know you are worried about family friends.. we all are... but what good are you to them dead? We will get through this. Together. Why? Because we are the guards of Belle Reve AND WE ARE THE BEST IN THE BUSINESS! NOW CAN I GET A HOORAH?!"

With that she yelled Hoorah at the top of her lungs, which in hindsight was pretty dam loud, almost as loud as the lightning. It ecoched throughout the prison and she hoped in the minds and hearts of her staff... she turned off the intercom and looked at the man before her. "Now then.. follow me and no funny buisness.."

She spoke to all those she was linked with. <<"I want to let you all know, I won't stop you from leaving if you want to. I understand.. truly I do but as I said we are best when we are a team and we have a much higher chance of living if we do this right. One I'm able I'll try and contact people outside to bring familes here. It's the least I can do.." Oh and yes.. we have a giant Unicorn on the loose.. So yeah Miss Kimmy is dead by the looks of things and the group therapy session could do a runner so whoever is close by do be careful. I am on route now!">>

And with that, Maelstrom was on the move, each footstep filled with a resounding crakcle as lighting danced around the hulking womans body.

 

[TobiornotTobi]

Rodrick Unger​

Belle Reve Penitentiary​

"The sooner we get caught, the sooner I can get back in my cage."​

---

Rodrick tried his best. He really did. Despite the blood-curdling scream erupting from his former therapist, he kept his composure. Despite the fully grown unicorn now occupying the space that belonged to Missy Kimmy, Rodrick kept on pointing. Despite said unicorn beginning to speak and subsequently demolishing the classroom door, he still remained unmoved. Rodrick maintained the motion of an immobile statue, as if standing still and completely ignoring reality would force itself to change course and suit his needs. But with each passing second, Rodrick was forced to come to terms with the fact that he had been upstaged for the fourth bloody time today. However, despite the elephant, unicorn in the room, Rodrick was willing to pivot. He didn't need an audience to witness the showdown that was about to go down. As if they cared, even before the mythical creature reared its rainbow-topped head in their direction. All Rodrick needed was a partner. A partner who could alleviate the boredom he dedicated his life to avoiding. A partner who could help him escape this dreary reality of his, even for a moment.

To Rodrick's infinite disappointment, however, Jupiter didn't have the same feelings for him. Like a worn out parent dismissing the pleas of their child to play, they completely shut down Rodrick's challenge. The grin that threatened to overtake his entire face deconstructed itself into a pout. His extended arm dropped to his side, the pointed index finger curling back into the fold until his hand made a fist. It looked like Rodrick was going to remain firmly seated in reality. The reality that he was trapped in this limbo until it was time for true judgement. Judgement from who, Rodrick didn't know where to start anymore. Considering everything he had seen today, the man upstairs could very well be a leprechaun. The hunter took in his would-be adversary, who looked amused at Rodrick's disappointment. They had no interest in entertaining his idea of a good time. No, Jupiter was more focused on the opportunity Moon Prism had created, as there was now a clear exit out of the room and into the monotonous grey halls of Belle Reve. The halls that were taking their sweet time sapping him of his will to live. The unicorn had even brought two new inmates to join in on the fun. Rodrick recognized one of them as the bloke who sicced his cronies on Jupiter. When Jupiter talked about a chance to escape, Rodrick's expression didn't budge a bit, despite his reputation for emoting. Their words were hitting too close to home.

Come on, Rodrick, you're better than this. With an internal groan, Rodrick recognized the voice of Uncle Don. The quote whisked the hunter back in time until he was a twelve year old tyke once more, living as close to the Outback as civilization could be. To nobody in the Unger household's surprise, he had gotten in trouble for getting in yet another fight at school and was sitting on the porch, battered and bruised. Muttering and licking his wounds, Rodrick audibly yelped when he felt a firm hand clasp onto his shoulder and the burly form of his uncle taking a seat next to him. A cool, wet rag in one hand, and advice in the other. As he took to work expertly dabbing various cuts and scrapes on his nephew, Uncle Don dispersed with his wisdom. I know you're hurtin', Rodrick, I do. I was the same way your age. but all this fightin' you're doing is only tacklin' the symptoms, he said in that jawbreaker voice that was both sweet and firm. If you really want to beat the sickness, you need to use that noggin of yours to get to the root of it. All this? You're just wastin' time and runnin' away from your problems. And to add emphasis, he reached out and pressed down on a swollen lump on Rodrick's face, causing him to yelp once more. Uncle Don's advice was a challenge in of its own. If Rodrick wanted to stop feeling so miserable and so trapped, then the first thing he would need to do is stop chasing fleeting pleasure and take a good, long look at himself. And that, was something he had no interest in doing. Maybe he was too set in his ways, or afraid of what he would find out. All Rodrick wanted was to get lost in one adrenaline high to the next, but it looked like he wasn't getting anything today. Additionally, thinking about his beloved uncle reminded the Australian that even if he wanted to escape, he had no home to return to.

The Australian Federal Police and Interpol made it clear when he was being booked. He was a criminal and a disgrace to officers everywhere. If Rodrick stepped foot back on his home soil, he wasn't getting a hero's welcome. He was getting a bodybag.. And if it wasn't his former colleagues hunting him down, it would be the shadowy wankers who put him up to chasing that metahuman in the first place. Then there was his family, who were probably fed some story about his disappearance. It was better for everyone that he never see them again. Better to go out as 'Rodrick the Failure' rather than 'Rodrick the Murderer'. So all in all, the deflated blonde didn't have anything better to do than engaging Jupiter in a fist fight. But the younger man's heart was clearly in another place. Knowing he couldn't stand around forever, Rodrick mulled his options. He could go with the idea that escaping Belle Reve would be a piece of piss and follow the rainbow, which could lead to unneeded pain if they were caught. Or, he could sit back, wait until this mess blew over and he was tossed back into his cell. After very little consideration, the latter sounded like the best choice. Rodrick abandoned his position in the ring with slow, lumbering steps. Unfortunately, the best seat in the house was crushed, along with Missy Kimmy, so Rodrick had to take a seat on the ground, his back to the wall facing Jupiter.

"Good luck," He said plainly. "Send me a postcard when you get outta here."

Closing his eyes, Rodrick prayed to leprechaun Jesus that Rachel would take the rainbow pill and go with Moon Prism. Depressed or not, he did not want to be alone in a room with her. Suddenly, the intercom cut on, the familiar voice of Levina barking in an authoritative tone. Looks like the fun was really over now with the threats she was tossing around. Rodrick imagined an alternate universe where he chose to run and got even more upset from that blasted guard spoiling his fun again. Then her tone changed to one of concern as she changed topics. What broadcast? Kyptonians? Rodrick felt like had been stuck in a time capsule instead of group therapy. Despite his piqued interest, Rodrick remained where he sat, still feeling bad for himself.