Fantasy ~Rebirth: Rise From Discord~

[Shura]

Aisha

Prison Riot ~ Lysian Prision
​

Peering around the corner she she spotted another set of doors iron clad and locked by the looks of it. Definitely not an exit. She glanced over to Jeron as he spoke up and shook her head. "Best not to take on these's guys head on. If we come across a few strays we can probably pick 'em off. More important thing is to find a way out of here." Out of the corner of her eyes Aisha spotted movement closer than she would like and quickly turned. Thankfully she was met by two other women instead of men in uniforms. It seemed they were looking for a way out that didn't involve war pathing their way through a wall of guards.


The woman with darker skin spoke up first speaking on a different language but one she had heard in her travels. She nodded slightly "Alright for now I suppose. But getting out of here would drastically improve my mood." She smirked slightly. Glancing around the day room the teen could see only two options fight their way out with the main pack of figure out a way through the locked door. Even then it wasn't guaranteed where that would even lead! For all she knew it could be a dead end. Still it was worth a shot if it meant getting out of clear view of the main force.


The sound of another scuffle this time much closer caught Aishas attention and she turned to see an older man dispatching a pair of guards who had probably been trying to get the jump on them. At first glance the man could have been mistaken for one of the guards but it seemed he was on their side in trying to escape. "It's possible the best way out could be through the sewers... there's no doubting any main exits have already been locked down." She rationalized. The time for planning and talk was cut short by a loud CLANK as the lock on the iron door was undone. Aisha motioned for everyone to move back against the wall as a small group of five guards started to file through the door and into the day room. The only thing working for them at that moment was the element of surprise from being hidden around the corner.


Clenching her fisht thightly Aisha took a breath. As soon as one of the guards neared the corner she rounded and swung her fist striking the man directly in the throat and sending him stumbling back into the other guards. The teen quickly moved back as another two guards rushed past their stunned ally their attention focused on her so the other prisoners could get the jump on them.


@Mad Prince of Sanity @DamagedGlasses @WritingMan @Karma200 @HighnessesReign

 

[HighnessesReign]

Rusty Knayls


Prison Riot - Lysian Prison


Rusty eyed the odd group before her thoughtfully, estimating what their age range may be but notably not making any reasonable predictions about either their ages or what their skills may be for she held no actual evidence that would prove her personal assumptions. Observation was a keen skill that the patched women had yet to acquire to an extreme level, that having been part of the reason as to why she had been trapped in such a building for such an amount of time thus far.


But as Rusty glanced at each individuals structure and eyed the emotions which swirled within each ones colored and exhausted gaze. She rather then being fearful of their obvious age differences, instead relied on the obvious ambition and courage of the group before her.


Punishment for such an event if caught would befall each of them equally and even the scholastically impaired women still gripping her cell mates petite wrist was capable of reading the most common repayment they may receive for attempting to escape such a retched prison if caught.


"I agree," Rusty spoke up over the shouts of rejoice and pain which surrounded them, referencing the pure womens talk of them getting out and how it would change her mood.


Patches glanced back over her shoulders intently, inspecting their surroundings in case anyone of a lesser preference may be approaching them but halted to let her gaze linger on Mayumi noticing an odd fiery persona enveloping the womens normally unreadable gaze, she was on her toes and instead of trembling as Rusty had predicted seemed to be basking in the radiating aura of the battle and the adrenaline it produced subconsciously, Mayumi seemed almost comfortable in it as though she had experienced her fair share of it.


Then in an instant as a new figure approached them Rusty froze unintentionally, her grip on Mayumis wrist tightening protectivly but to a reasonable degree. Though the male wasn't dressed in the gear of a guard and was obviously a prisoner, you are never truly aware of whether some of the prisoners are using the riot as an opportunity to gain revenge upon those that may have wronged them in someway. But when it seemed Rustys anxious reaction was futile as the new individual seemed to be friendly as preferred she turned towards the white haired gir, as the sound of feet stepping away originated from her past location and found her to be instead against the wall they had been conversing beside.


Fortunately Rusty realized in time of what was occurring and hastilly jogged to the area beside her and pressed her back against the cool frigid surface of the wall, the remnents of the sweat which had begun to be produced from her pores making the cold surface a temporary haven which reduced Rustys warm exterior with cold comfort. As she pushed as much of her exterior against the concrete walls her blotchy arm had repositioned itself in front of Mayumi. This sudden protectiveness over the elegant female holding no true point of reason, and if it did Rusty herself knew nothing of it. But in past scenarios Patches had fund herself in she had listened to her instincts as she was now, and in most instances wasn't to intensely injured afterwards, luckily.


Rusty for a moment stupidly reminisced, her mind enveloped by the nostalgia of her past and the outside world she was now attempting to retreat back to. Whether she would be capable of doing so depending on both herself and now those she was temporarily calling her comrades, as she was sure thatthey'd part ways soon after this disastrous event. Suddenly an abrupt choking noise brought the females attention up to the seemingly weak women before her as she had seemingly slammed a tightly clenched fist into the cartilage of a single guards neck.


Damn, Rusty had nearly spoken aloud out of astonishment by the overtly large amount of skill and power the quant girl before her held. The blotchy skinned girls eyes widened a small amount with slight respect before they narrowed and her chapped lips tilted upwards uncomfortably into a mischevious grin, the women catching on rather fast as two guards stomped towards the white haired female, unaware of the others' presence.


Though one of the two was cut short, as without warning Rusty raised her left foot upwards at a fast rate and powerfully dug the toe of her shoe in the tender muscle of the guards neck, nearing the top of his collarbone. Rustys right hand tense as it was pressed against the wall strategically so she was capable of keeping her balance while she performed the task and observed the man wince physically and stumble a moment before recovering but visibly under much more strain. Just as the same dominant foot once again shot back into action though instead hitting a lower region in an upwards motion her foot connecting with the mans pelvic area forcefully.


The mans pained facial features caused an ugly amused snort to escape the one who had caused it as she watched the man crumble.


Interacted With: @Shura @Mad Prince of Sanity @DamagedGlasses @Karma200 @WritingMan

 

[Brax]

Otto


In the time between his call for war and his current situation, the young man had not gotten very far by himself. The prisoners, however, had the upper hand on the guards. Whether it be due to the fact that they had their own weapons, such as shanks made out of toothbrushes, or just their bare hands. Otto was not surprised to see that most of the people who had been imprisoned had been long waiting for the right opportunity. So, from the get go, Otto charged the guards just as everyone else did. For the most part, the numbers of the guards had been overwhelmed by the start. Reality was, only so many bodies could fit through the passageway between the lobby and the day room.


Two prisoners were struggling with two guards, both of whom had been stricken down. Otto found himself leaping into the air, using his right foot to smash into one of the guards face before extending the very same leg to deliver another heel to the second guard's face. Both men fell down as a result of the quick strike, while Otto landed gracefully on his feet. However, by the time the two men had gotten up onto their feet, two more had found their way to Otto. That was how he was surrounded by the group of four guards to begin with. Despite bruised ribs and a gash in his head, Otto fought through the pain. He had to. There was no other option for him currently. Whether or not the four guards believed that they had the power in numbers, Otto knew he had the upper hand. Especially in mentality.


Otto swung the baton in his right palm, before stepping to the right and slapping one of the guards in the face with it. Two others moved to strike the young man in that same moment. A horizontal swing of a baton aimed for Otto's face saw a miss when the young man leaned back extremely far before performing a back handspring. The second guard had initially moved to grab Otto, but as he showed a dominant display of athleticism, the guard wound find Otto's foot connecting with the bottom of his chin, immediately knocking the guard out. Meanwhile, the fourth guard had moved in closer to Otto and straight up flung his baton at the teen, who had been upright at this point.


Extending his left hand, Otto caught the baton with ease. Three guards stood before him, seemingly in a psuedo-Mexican stand-off with the young man. Otto began bouncing lightly, a small smirk on his face as the three guards charged him at once. He attacked first, despite the three running at him, but sending two quick fists into the guard who ran straight at him. Otto dodged a kick from the right by moving his body sideways, and spun around a baton which had attempted to hit him from the left. Keeping close to the guard to the left, Otto swung one of his batons at the back of the man's head and immediately knocked him out. This was followed by Otto sending a sparta kick into the side of the face belonging to the guard which he had initially punched.


The force of the kick caused the guard to stumble sideways into the third one. As momentum had it, the two would stumble a couple of feet in Danica's direction before both spilled onto the ground. The third guard had quickly gotten up to his feet, but the one who had initially been kicked into him was still on the ground, holding his head. Quickly peering at the doorway leading to the lobby, Otto saw that Lyandra and a bunch of other prisoners had successfully pushed the wave of guards back into the lobby. Once the group got past the day room, they would surely find their plight much easier; not that the prisoners hadn't completely overwhelmed the staff as it was.Otto shouted at the top of his lungs once more.


"Keep moving! We're almost there!"


@LotusSan @Demensia @Hales @Rifleman @Draven Valentine @Flawless

 

[Draven Valentine]

Jett Lawless

​

Jett sat huddled in the back of his cell. He pulled out a small bag from his pocket, sprinkling some of the powdery goodness onto the bed. Using his index finger, he lined up the mess of cocaine into a line, then flopped his head down ontop of his, nuzzling his nose against the sandy texture. He then inhaled sharply through his nose, sending the powder straight into his system. He tilted his head back, exhaling loudly. That's when he noticed someone was unlocking his cell door. Everyone was hollering and yelling, just like any other prison riot, though this one was different. They were on the verge of freedom.


Jett gathered up his things, namely cigarettes and more drugs, before he walked out of his cell. Everyone was fighting with the guards. The screaming and yelling flooded his ears, causing him to stop and assess the situation. He propped his hands on his sides, and sighed. “Just like old times. I'm all high on cocaine and now I have to beat some people up. Well alrighty then.” He spoke to himself, rolling up his sleeves. He turned his head, looking for his cellmate. “Cu. You're probably the only asshole in here I care about. Follow me and we'll be alright bud.” He told him. He didn't really find himself liking too many people, mostly because all of his life he was all about himself. Although, spending years in a cell with the same person tended to change your mind.


Under the effects of the drug making its way through his system, Jett found himself more alert, and faster. He finally took off, only to be clotheslined by the fat guard who had beat him up prior. He shook his head, rolling to the side to avoid the predictable baton that almost smashed him in the face. While he was scurrying to his feet, he took the baton to his ribs, causing him stumble forward into another guard. As the other guard turned his head, Jett flashed him a big smile. “Hi. Bye.” He said, placing his hands on the males shoulder. He then brought his left leg up, bringing his heel down into the back of the guards leg. As the guard fell backward, Jett turned his body to the side, dragging the guard around by his shoulders, pushing him into the fatboy chasing him, knocking them both over. He looked at them for a second. “It's the cocaine, baby. Should've taken it when I offered.” He yelled, kicking the guard ontop of the fat one in the head.


He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it between his lips. He couldn't get his hands on a lighter, though he did have a matchbook. He ripped one of the small sticks out of the pack, striking the treated head against the back, sparking it. He lit his cigarette, taking a quick puff to get the cherry smoking. He put the matchbook back in his pocket. When he finally paid attention to the situation, he saw some dude taking down a few guards on his own. Jett ducked and dodged through the crowd of prisoners and guards, making his way towards the male. “Hi there.” He said, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Oh, wait a second. You're that dude. George...bob...Otto? Otto.” Otto had tried to recruit Jett into his little rebel group, but Jett “respectfully” declined each time. “I'm Jett, as you probably already knew. Though we should save this conversation until we're long gone.” He turned his head, motioning towards another group pushing the guards out of the day room. “I mean, you look like hell. “ He looked around for his big brute friend Cu. “Let's pal around. I mean there's no time like the present, eh? We can be like the three musketeers.” He said, throwing his hands up into the air. He then pulled the half-smoked cigarette from his lips, handing it to the man. His pupils were severely dilated from the effects of the drug. “I'm high as shit right now, don't mind me. We should probably start going.”


@Tree @Rifleman

 

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_03/57a8c1b29f1ea_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.6698ea9f6ff95a8fc858b2f344744af4.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="44005" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_03/57a8c1b29f1ea_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.6698ea9f6ff95a8fc858b2f344744af4.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Consumed by Fury, Danica's progress toward Otto and the exit continued in a methodically slow pace that hinted at inevitability. What conscience part of her self was lost, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated passion of anger that she now personified. In her berserk state, Danica paid no heed to the assaults of the guards who tried to subdue her. Bruises and lacerations decorated her body as blood mixed with sweat soaked into her prison garb.


The clump of guards that had appeared in front of her, courtesy of Otto's well placed kick, impeded her progress. With a crazed roar, Danica grasped the back of the coat of the guard on the top of the pile and bodily hurled him to her left where he crashed into a wall and slumped into unconsciousness. The other guard, visibly disturbed by the bleeding and drooling apparition that towered over him, scurried back and away from her. She swung the dangling chain down hard upon his head, but the guard managed to roll away from the attack, find his feet and dart away.


With slow, powerful strides, Danica pressed on toward the exit and freedom, her Fury daring anyone to deny her that goal. She issued another roar of challenge to the remaining guards that stood before her, then pushed aside whomever and whatever was in her way – guards or prisoners.


@LotusSan @Demensia @Hales @Rifleman @Draven Valentine @Flawless @Tree

 

[SkyGinge]

Keziah Swann and 'Mags'


Outside the Lysian Prison
​

"Cor, doesn't sound good in there," Generic Prison Guard One cast a concerned glance over his stupidly broad shoulder with all the grace of a sentient rubbish bag.


"Naw," Generic Prison Guard Two stroked his imaginary beard, pretending to be a man far greater than himself, "Thank the King we're out here, 'coz them in there sound like they're gettin' a right whallopin'."


A little closer... angle it... hold it....


"Right idiots anyhow, them lot," GPG1 shrugged, crossing his huge arms, "Don't take a genius to just follow the King's simple instructions. Not to say they're right, but folks'd be better of not bein' arrogant asses who thinks they can break line without conse-cons-coe-err... bad things 'appening."


"Aye," GPG2 nodded, turning to face his companion. To his surprise, a small blade suddenly erupted from the man's face, acompanied by a tiny torrent of blood. He barely had time to react before it punctured his brain. A squirt of lurid goo seaped from the wound in his forehead and then, like bowling pins, the pair collapsed to the ground.


A masked Keziah Swann retrieved her bloodied projectile and cleaned it of the crimson substance. My aim's a little off, she frowned into the helmet, examining the second victim's fractured skull, A few milimeters to the right.


Mags broke from the shadows, his every movement a clinking jangling of all of his shrouded firearms. "Think they'd have a stronger front line given where we're at. Though nothing strong enough to challenge you, I'm sure. Then again, they'll 'ave called all able 'ands to action in there." Mags shrugged trivially, leaping over the bidy of GPG1. "Whatever. Reckon it's time for me to blow these damn doors down!"


But before he had the chance to do so, the metallic door swung open, and Keziah stepped away from it, gesticulating her employer in. Women and children first, she thought.


~~~


As expected, the prison's inside were just as nightmarishly chaotic as the outsides. The pair of them, the redundant breaker-in's, watched the bedlam from an abandoned doorway. Keziah was used to scenes like this, but she couldn't help but notice Mags struggling to follow each individual clash, his entranced eyes trailing the violent motions like a cat watching a ball of string. His mouth hung open in a half grin. He's getting too excited again.


"Otto," Keziah reminded him, her flowing voice muffled by her mask. At once, the merchant's countenance dropped, and if life were a cartoon, Keziah was certain a little lightbulb would have popped up above his head.


"No need to remind me," he brushed it off with a slight snarl. There was, actually, but oh well. "Where is 'e..." Mags tried to make sense of the raging war-room, to little success. "That scheming little stinker's rubbishy rebellion robbed me of a good month's payment. Ain't no way he's gettin' off scot free. Now, we've got to find him-"


Keziah span rapidly, her curved Twarrani Blade swirling like a sharp ribbon into the chest of the guard who'd been attempting to ambush them. "Blimey..." Mags muttered, but their plight was far from over. Unsurprisingly, reinforcements were on the way, and a stream of guards careered clumsily down the corridor towards them. The Black Swan held herself in a defencive stance, ready for action.


"Why hello there, fella's," Mags bared his mouth full of half-teeth. "Quite an excitin' cafuffle you's got yerselves in. Good thing there's more of you on the way now. Think you can take the upper hand?"


"NOT A CHANCE IN HELL!" Reaching inside his pockets, Mags withdrew two very large firearms, triwling them around his wrists with surprising style before unleashing a round of bullets at the oncoming guards. They were mowed down instantaniously as roaring gunfire shattered the air. When it eventually stopped, all that was left was Mags' slight laughter.


"Heh, Kez, ya see that!" he grinned, "Now I get'cha! Now I finally understand why all these rebellion folks like their violence. It's so much fun!"


Keep your eyes on the prize, you dingbat, Keziah willed him to sensibility, as another stream of guards began to gush towards them. "Stubborn little mules, ain't ya? Ah wells, prepare to be killified..." Before he could reach for his pockets again, Keziah was dragging him into the dayroom. They were supposed to be on a stealth mission. Really, it wasn't anything to do with them whether the whole battlefield fell to pieces and all of the prisoners were slaughtered. All that mattered was that they grabbed Otto and got out safely, a mission Keziah didn't intend to abandon just for the sake of a flashy gunshow.


@Tree


@Everyone (as you'd have heard/seen Mags and his gunfire)

 

[DamagedGlasses]

Jerom Jaksin

​

Jerom nodded at Aisha, considering what she had said. Those men were rather big, and while he had had no ideas on how he would deal with them, he had thought that maybe Aisha could pull some more awesome action stuff and get a hold of at least something, maybe one of those really pointed sticks. Maybe that was too risky of an action to do though. Of course, they had just broken out of a prison, one that would most likely punish most of those who had left by death or something similar, meaning that it was unlikely it could get much more riskier than this. Jerom jumped a bit when the pair behind him voiced their presence, not having been paying attention to their silent arrival.


They weren't unsightly though, the younger looking of the bunch having long dusty black hair that seemed to be of a thinner grain than his father had been. The other woman, looked rather rough and tough, the bronze color that filled the seeable areas looking vaguely familiar like the sun-tanned skin of the old fishermen, who had spent their whole lives sweeping the ocean for fish. Nodding hello, not really interested in new arrivals during a battle, Jerom turned back to Aisha, who had taken enough interest to respond to the arrival's greeting.


Looking around, Jerom had a hard time paying attention to any one area at a time, the amount of activity going really giving him a work out in terms of figuring out where they could go. Glancing at Aisha, Jerom looked to where she seemed to be interested in and noticed that one of the guards had started to fight back. Wait, no, Jerom corrected himself as he looked a bit closer. He definitely had the refined look of a guard, one of the ones that were used in public events at least, but he lacked any of the medals and social adornments the guards usually carried around on their sashes. He was even wearing prison garb!


As the man looked to them and headed over, his greetings being less of a hello, and more of a slight scolding towards Jerom's earlier idea. Jerom was quite puzzled at why everyone was coming over to them, or even was able to notice their lack of fighting and more sideline active role. Looking at himself, he found nothing notable, but Aisha's onceover revealed that it was probably her. That white hair was certainly something you didn't accidently miss even during a battle like this.


Jerom was woken from his thoughts when Aisha began to speak, talking about the possibility of the main exits being shut down, leaving only the more unorthodox means of escaping. He piped up, "Anything to get out of here!" This place was getting more and more dangerous as the seconds passed. He did not want to see the climax of it all. Hearing the loud sound of metal, Jerom followed Aisha's gestures and hugged the wall, looking curiously as he watched Aisha tense from her hiding spot. If guards were about to come, Jerom looked over to where the others seemed to be tensing for their own reasons, they were about to get their butts whipped.


Feeling a little underarmed, Jerom looked around and smiled when he saw the crumbling bit of wall to his right. As the sounds of clanging boots came ever closer, Jerom fiddled with the loose chunk of wall. Suddenly, the guards were in sight and the people on the wall exploded into action, Aisha and the bronze girl dispatching two of them quickly. Not wanting to be left out, Jerom ripped the chunk out of the wall, managing to get it out and with a little burst of adrenaline and fine aiming, Jerom threw it at the head of one of the helmetless guards. The chunk, a good hunk about the size of half a brick, rang true with the projectile hitting the man squarely in the eye.


The unfortunate man stumbled back a bit, the sudden blow dazing him, but overall he seemed fin-oh his eye was bleeding. Jerom felt a bit sorry as he saw the pain the man was in, the flowing blood not being in uproarious amounts, but still noticeable. It probably didn't help with how the salt of his tears were making it hurt even more.


Jerom was going to say something, maybe an apology, when the sounds of a much more convoluted battle insued. It no longer resembled the sounds of a ragtag group of rebellious freed prisoners. No, now it sounded more galvanised and thorough. It was like an army and even more.


@Shura @Mad Prince of Sanity @Karma200 @HighnessesReign @WritingMan @SkyGinge @Rocks @Guns @Things

Pawle Jenner

​

Pawle blinked as he heard sounds of clanging metal arouse him from one of the better dreams he had ever had. There was this man, and he wanted to give Pawle a hug, but everytime he did, Pawle would become transparent and the man would walk right through him. The dream man, clothed like refined business man, white gloves and everything became sadder and sadder. Pawle found it very funny. Just watching the man flail about trying to grab a hold of him, ah yes, it was one of the better dreams he had ever had. Although, he wasn't exactly sure what his dreams had been like. Did he have a dream the night before?


Did he even sleep the night before? Wait, which night was he talking about? Pawle didn't know, not for sure anyway. Opening his eyes, Pawle cringed at the bright light of the dim cell he was in. He scrunched up his aged eyes and frowned deeply, looking down. His eyebrow rose in questioning as he saw that he was sitting in the corner of the room, crisscross. It looked like had fallen asleep sitting up again. He really had to stop doing that. Picking up the cup beside him, Pawle took a deep swig of the liquor inside, before spitting it out in disgust. That wasn't liquor. Actually, he wasn't sure what that was. Also, when did he get a cup? Looking at the cup beside him, Pawle looked at it, his gaze asking questions, but receiving no answer.


Standing up, Pawle cringed at the pain in the joints of his legs, and hip, and thighs, etc. and wished for the time when he would ride the waves on the edge of the sea. He wasn't sure he had ever done it, but he wished for the time that he could have very well done it. Looking to his fellow cellmates, smiling at both of the congenially, Pawle began to clamber up to the cell bars, looking curiously at the fight outside. Coking his head, ignoring the creak that popped as the morning still tried to contain his limbs. So this was what a prison break looked like? Man, what he would give to join in.


Hearing the sound of a slow creak of unoiled iron, Pawle looked over and smiled at the cell door, the hinges providing him a distinct hint of him actually being able to leave. Grinning, showing off his lack of teeth, Pawle laughed as he clambered over to where he kept his belongings. Going over to his corner, Pawle stared bleakly at where he had put his belongings when he remembered that he didn't have anything to his name in this bleak pit of despair. However, once he got over here, then he could get all of his things back! Feeling his heart pumping in excitement, Pawle turned back to the open door.


Tipping his head to both of his cellmates, Pawle walked out as a semi free man. As his foot hit the cool ground of the outside world, the free room a place he rarely visited, he felt a small pounding sensation in his chest, an abnormal one. Then, one of his upper teeth began to ache, something that would usually normal, felt wrong. Something was very wrong. As Pawle turned back to get to the safety of his corner, his withered chest burst into pain.


Falling to his knees, Pawle knew he had very little time left. Looking towards the sky, rolling to his back in the process, he was disappointed at the gray ceiling that awaited him. He had wanted to die looking at stars, and he gets a grey ceiling as a substitute? Pawle leaned his head back and accepted the pain, knowing that he had no strength to fight back against nature's call. At least he had the thought of Yonda in his thoughts. Though, he wasn't sure who Yonda was. Closing his eyes, Pawle breathed out for the last time, the sigh coming out as a sort of rattle.





@The Kaosophile @Der Kojote

 

[DeerPrince]

Luhan Taylors~


Prison


He had been in conversation his cell mate, Naom, when it had happened. He heard a man scream something he couldn't quite catch, and then he heard the lock on the prison cell jingle. Then, suddenly, the door swung open. He could see a figure moving about, locking as many cells as possible. Luhan stood, bewildered for a moment, what was he supposed to do? Running would surely be suicidal, yet staying would also be suicidal. He could see guards and prisoners strewn on the floor, died. A guard ran in, screaming so loudly it hurt Luhan's ears. He threw out his fist wildly, hearing the thud that made contact with flesh. The guard slumped, unconscious.


Yanking hard, he pulled the baton from the guard's waist, marveling at the weapon. He used it, wielded the baton and wacked at every moving thing.


He moved forward, cutting and slashing, his form work still a little wild, his arms weaker and straining under the weight of the blade. He looked back to his cell mate, who was still on the bed. "Come on, Naom! We've got to go."

 

[Shura]

Clarification Aright this is to clarify for everyone who is unsure. All of the guards only have batons if you don't know what one is here is a link. The only characters with guns at this moment are @SkyGinge NPC who is aiding in the break out. He only has two gun and those are the only other weapons inside the prison. A guard or two may have a knife but that is a rare coinsurance. About weapons: This is modern-ish times. Granted things are heavily controlled and monitored but guns and such are still the norm when it comes to weapons. There could be some home made weapons, crewed shanks, kitchen knives, bats, ect. However things such as swords are a rare thing. It's not exactly common for someone to have a sword now a days so it would be the same in the RP. Knives, daggers and smaller weapons are more common if you wish not to go with a fire arm.

 

[IantoP]

Noam Aschsi


Prison, Lysia


Noam had gotten to the side of the barred cell with little difficulty. He propped himself against it while he spoke with the other boy. Over this time his rib was healing enough to stop making his curse under his breath, and he began to test the rest of his joints, making sure they were all functioning well; All but his right knee were sturdy and moving at will. His knee was only a little stiff compared to the other.


This assessment was forgotten when someone was suddenly at their cell door and unlocking it. Noam jumped to his feet but didn't get much farther. A guard had come to their cell and he was about to fight him off at best he could. Instead, his cellmate went ahead and knocked the man out, the ease he did so with lighted Noam's amusement. Then he stepped forward, watching the other intently for a moment.


He stopped staring when the dark-haired boy shouted at him, and he hurried forward. He briefly paused before the guard's still body and checked over his armor. A smile brightened his face as his hand delved into the metal boot and produced a pocket knife; Not as helpful in a fight, but contributive for supplies. He clipped it to his waistline and quickly followed after Luhan.


Mentioned: @Greentail

 

[The Kaosophile]

Casey Ward

Location: PRISON


Mental state: Unstable Adolescent



​

Casey stuck close to Grigori, frightened by the yelling and fighting, but calmed by the crisp embrace of Grigori's alpine aroma. Casey's Xaran companion kept to the walls to avoid as much combat as possible, decking the guards that attempted to corral the duo. He was strong, quiet, and calm, even in this situation. People were falling to the ground left and right, unconscious or dead. Casey saw the old man from her cell, and felt a twang of regret for not acquainting with him further. Grigori either did not notice or did not care, probably the former, he seemed like a real compassionate guy, from the two minutes Casey had known him. The riot was loud, lots of people moving, but then there were several sharp cracks that rattled Casey's eardrums.


Make a decision.





And that's when all went silent, blank, except for the colour red as Casey walked calmly, numbing, paralyzed beside the unconscious body of one of the guards. With trembling hand, Casey lifted the man's nightstick, contemplating it for a moment. In her distraction, a figure approached in the corner of Casey's periphery. The guard that strip-searched Casey during booking brandished a baton of his own, but hesitating in his strike.


"I told you to stay in your cell." The man stated. He was confident, seeing the trembling uncertainty of Casey's too-small hands on the nightstick. He was surprised, then, when a flaring, crippling pain radiated across his body, followed by a tingling numbness. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his tender loins as he desperately gasped for air.


Make a decision.


Casey stood over him for a moment, and whispered "I decided not to." Then brought the nightstick down on his face once, twice, three times, making a sizeable rut in the guard's skull. Casey kicked the now-dead guard in the ribs, and another guard approached, but he was met with a flurry of nightstick strikes that left him bruised and broken. Casey dropped the nightstick, leaving the second guard to bleed out on the floor.


As Casey's adrenaline faded from her bloodstream, the red film faded from her sight, and she felt heavy and sluggish. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she was able only to stumble to Grigori, and lean on him for support, marking the unfortunate Xaran with bloody handprints and smears.


The guards seemed inexplicably reluctant to approach the duo after that.


@Der Kojote

 

[Der Kojote]

Grigori Ivanov

Lysian Prison roit


Mental state: Xaran Bar fight



​

Grigori could hear the roar of the prisoners as they collided with the gaurds, the clanging of metal, the impact of fists upon skulls, the sounds of clubs. The situation was not a pleasant one, however, it had seemingly the same order as a Xaran bar fight. So honestly he adapted, He stuck close to the walls, Looking back ever so often to make sure Casey was still following him, or had not been accosted. He was also hoping the old man was following them, though after one shift in the crowds he lost sight of him. He cursed the fact he'd lost sight of him, and prayed that the man somehow was finding his own way out. Still, he had to watch out for the kid. She still seemed to be doing alright.


One unfortunate guard decided to try and corral the two back to the cell, the decision was...a poor one. As soon as the man tried to get near the two with his night stick, Grigori resorted to old tactics he'd learned in a Xaran bar. Strike first, strike unexpectedly, and most of all, strike where it hurts. He threw a right hook into the side of the man's face. The guard stumbled a bit backwards before Grigori followed it up with a knee to the offending guard's groin. The unlucky guard slumped down in a considerable bit of pain. Instead of continuing to attack the guard Grigori just continued onward with Casey in tow. They needed to get out not beat the living crap out of people only to be cornered again.


Then he heard the cracking of gunfire. He cursed to himself silently, Shit! I can deal with a guard or two...I can't deal with gunfire! Though looking around he noticed something, Casey wasn't behind him, Hell where did she go?! Though his question was answered as he saw her out of the corner of his eye approaching the fallen man's nightstick. She lifted it and seemed to examine it for a bit. Before a guard approached her, and told her to go back to the cell, or that she needed to stay in it. Grigori was about to go and deal with the guy when thing and Casey went for lack of a better phrase, Nuts.


It had happened so fast Grigori had little time to react one moment, the guard was standing the next...he was down on the ground being beat to a pulp by the girl with the nightstick from the guard he'd brought low, and then quickly was dead. Then, she brutally beat another guard that approached them, if the man wasn't going to die now from his wounds, it wouldn't be long. He heard the clanking of the nightstick on the floor, and saw Casey stumbling towards him tears in her eyes, Blood was everywhere, not her's, but the guards she had brutally had beaten to death and near death. He couldn't muster a word to say, He'd seen a village slowly starve and freeze to death, he'd seen a bear charge at him, he'd seen death from frostbite stare at him in the face. However in his 23 years of life, he'd Never...NEVER had he seen anything like that. The demonstration however did have an effect, every guard that hand witnessed the act was now afraid to get near them. He looked around, Cursing loudly in Xaran, "Shit...SHIT...we need to get you out of here kid!"





He picked her up. She seemed to be in no shape to move. the one person carry seemed to be a good one. He hissed through his breath, "I'm getting you out of here now. Hang on!" He continued his path hugging the wall, again the gaurds seemed to have no want to deal with the two, He was looking for anyway out. It was after a bit when he saw another group of people, Women and children by the looks of it, one older gentleman included. There were three guards still, apparently there was still a scuffle . He put casey down, breathing a bit heavier from usual, between the fast movement, the increasing temperature of the jail from all the activity, and his bulky clothing, it was getting uncomfortably warm, and he was starting to get a bit tired. "I'm going to try and clear this with them. I think we found our way out. If there is a chance follow them...now if you excuse me."





The Xaran picked which guard he was going to focus on. there were three that were currently unoccupied. He was about to make that two. He Hunched over, took a deep breath and ran full-speed, The guard hadn't seen him coming, However, it must have been quit a shock a he felt the impact of a 6'4 Xaran man, who then upon pushing the man to the wall, immediately proceeded to start delivering punches to man's Solar plexus. For most people, this would be considered a chaotic environment. For Grigori...this was a Tuesday night bar brawl, after it had been announced the Vodka had stopped flowing.


@The Kaosophile @Shura @DamagedGlasses @Karma200 @WritingMan @Mad Prince of Sanity @HighnessesReign @hopeididntforgettotaganyone @BARFIGHT @wellnotreally @PRISIONFIGHT

 

[Shura]

Aisha


Thankfully the group had done as she hoped for and taken out the small group of guards while she played distraction. Most of the guards were trying to wrangle the more violent prisoners which left them very few to deal with. Aisha hopped over the fallen bodies of the guards and made her way to the door they had entered from and pulled it open slowly. The coast seemed clear with voices echoing in the distance for more guards to get to the courtyard and block off the main group of escaping prisoners. Aisha felt bad that they were using the more violent of the prisoners as a distraction but some things couldn't be helped. The silver haired teen turned back to the group that had managed to gather and motioned for them to follow "Come on, coast is clear!" She called before going through the door.


The concrete halls of the prison were lined with pipping but otherwise bar leaving very indication as to where they were going. Aisha took a few turns to find some guards running pass but they remained undetected. There was only so far they could keep up this game of hide and seek, the further they moved away from the day room the more numerous the guards became. Aisha gnawed on her bottom lip looking around for some way to get out that wasn't the front door. By some miracle she found it. A maintenance hatch which seemed to lead to the lower levels of the prison possibly even the sewers. She wasn't 100% sure but it was better than being out in the open. Aisha bolted for the hatch and grabbed a hold of the handle it barely budged. "Damn it..." she muttered softly


Sensing the girls struggle one of the older men of the group went to assist. Aisha vaguely recognized him as one of the prisoners who also had a kid in his cell as well as a very old man. He managed to turn the handle and with a loud creek the hatch was lifted revealing a long ladder leading into darkness. It was fairly unnerving but there were two options take the chances in the depths or with the guards scurrying about the prison. Aisha motioned for everyone to go down the hole while keeping an eye out for any guards. Her heart was racing as she heard the foot steps of approaching guards and turned back to the last few who hadn't gone down. "Hurry there are guards coming!" With that bit of encouragement the pace was quickened and within a few short seconds the group was enclosed in darkness as the hatch was closed. They descended down the metal rung ladder into the the basement of the prison. Once at ground level there were only narrow hallways with dim flickering lamps providing some light.


@Mad Prince of Sanity @DamagedGlasses @Karma200 @HighnessesReign @WritingMan @The Kaosophile @Der Kojote

 

[HighnessesReign]

Rusty Knayls


Prison Sewers


"Right in the family jewels," Rusty announced fruitfully through clenched teeth as she pumped a fist victoriously upwards into the empty air.


Her body filled to the brim with odd enjoyment, finding ounces of relieving peace swirling within her chest and through her tangling veins at the realization that she currently held the necessary strength to fend both herself and a few others against even just a single guard.


The slightly comedic position of the cowering guard before her was an indication of reassurance, a sign which caused another dose of determination to pump itself through her just as an inspirational speech would to some.


The women peaked back over her shoulder and eyed those who surrounded her, a golden gaze lingering a crossed each of their appearances, only capable of imagining how peculiar they looked as a whole to a new pair of eyes. A small chuckle of amusement then crawled out from within Rustys sore throat, a subtle raspy sound that lasted for a small amount of seconds before disappearing just as they had appeared. As this occurred Rusty ran a clammy hand over the surface of her left arm, small bumps littering a crossed her patched skin, side effects of their current situation, the hidden but evident fear molding itself into her apparent anticipation and producing the small goosebumps and causing the tips of her hairs to stand on end though the actually warm temperatures.


A voice then suddenly arose above the sounds of their groups surroundings and drew in the attention of Rusty, the voice being owned by the ghost like women who she mentally had elected as team leader. Spotting her bright silver locks almost instantly as she stood hunched over what seemed to be from this distance an entrance to a lower corridor or even better the sewer system that trucked through the underground and would lead you great distances easily. Rusty with a confident stance strode in the little women's direction intending to assist her as it seemed she was having difficulty with removing the hatch when instead a more elder member of their group approached and instead helped.


"I doubt you'll get it anciano," (old man, elderly) Rusty stated as she intently observed irritably, her hands now placed atop the upper ridge of her curved hip bones. Resting much of her weight atop her left foot as she awaited for the man to perhaps murmur a few curse words before giving up and allowing her to perform the task with undoubting success. But much her true shock though his age it seemed the man still had a few patches of useful muscle atop his elder bones. Rustys eyebrows knitted into one another though she didn't move much more as she instead gazed down the intimidating entrance which led undoubtably to either the sewers or hells flames.


Though just as it would be in any other case without much of her minds consent Rusty once instructed to crawl down the surely un-safe latter did so with little hesitance, the idiotic adrenaline rush fueling her to perform the task quickly and fluently. The chipping surface of the unsettling bars prickling the bare palms, giving her little to no reassurance that at some point she was going to stand face to face with the devil himself.


Rusty though much to her preference didn't meet such a fate, instead dealt a hand that could just as easily cause her pain and suffering but in a much more slow and excruciating process, one that would at varying moments trick her into believing she was to win but then instead fall in one form or another.


The frigid air felt heavy around the women, nearly giving off a claustrophobic sensation that filled Rustys lungs with humid and moist air.


"Damn now we're in your stereotypical horror plot." Rusty growled as she observed the pulsing pattern of the flickering lights. Aged dust filtering through the air without a true destination just as themselves, locked within the walls of the sewers and handed a single light source that only produced a golden ray every other forgiving second.


"Let's just hope we don't die eh?"





@Mad Prince of Sanity @DamagedGlasses @Karma200 @Shura @WritingMan @The Kaosophile @Der Kojote

 

[Karma200]

Mayumi Avally


The sewers/prison
​

She stayed behind Rusty while watching the prisoners fight, her fingers were itching for a knife of some sort. Without a weapon Mayumi would have to rely on her swiftness because she was smaller then the larger males, she was small but fast and that always counted for something. Looking around Mayumi hurried to grab one of the batons that had been laying down beside one of the guards that had been taken down.


Mayumi was in awe at how everyone was fighting and while she thought about stepping to help, she thought it best to keep her distance. While staying close to Rusty, Mayumi also kept her distance from everyone else. The stench of the sewers were disgusting but Mayumi only blinked it away, she'd been putting up with smelly men walking by her in the prison so having to deal with this smell wasn't to bad. Though, she most definitely didn't want to have to continue smelling it for a while. Who knew where the sewers ended? Or led to another part of the prison? They'd probably get caught sooner or later, especially since there could possibly be guards within them.


"I would hope we don't die," Mayumi mumbled after Rusty's words, taking a quick look around the group. There was a man who had just came and he had black hair with dull eyes that seemed a bit lifeless to Mayumi. A girl with long hair, pale skin and a small frame. Possibly a young girl? A teenager or younger? Of course Mayumi wasn't really good at figuring these things out so she turned to see an elderly man, in May's eyes? He looked like a monk of some sort. She gave him a small nod of respect, her people always showed their elders signs of respect. In her eyes, the elderly were the ones you were able to learn from.


A young boy with black hair, tanned skin and grey eyes was also among the group. There was also a man with short brown hair and while he didn't look as though he was to old, he did look a bit more aged. Possibly in his 30's or more? A young girl with long silver hair, pretty honey brown eyes seemed to leading the group. May was perfectly fine with this but somewhere in the back of her mind she was wondering just where these sewers was going lead them. Would they actually get out... or get into bigger trouble?


@HighnessesReign @Shura @The Kaosophile @Der Kojote @Mad Prince of Sanity (Sorry its taken me a bit, finally got back home)

 

[SkyGinge]

Inside the dayroom was chaos both literal and metaphorical. A rag-tag mix-'n'-match selection of prisoners scrapped against endless waves of guards; Keziah found herself wondering how they even managed to fit in to such a compact prison. A pocket-sized rebellion raged within the claustrophobic walls, as nausiating as a rapid mountain climb, but, learned as she was, The Black Swan kept a careful eye on proceedings. There was none of the foretold grace and brilliance of the glorious war tales of histories past; this was raw survival.


The air was charged with tension and instinctive survival. The familiar stench of the bloodily deceased wafted through Keziah's mask, but she ignored it, like she ignored mostly everything else, and kept the utmost focus on her subject of speciality; staying alive.


It was like they'd charged straight into a violent nightmare. Mag's vision whirled as he tried to keep track of the battle. But Chaos cannot be tamed, and prodding his ribs, Keziah forced him away from the danger. The merchent's eager arms accelerated to his pockets, but an extra prod from Keziah reminded him of the monetary value of his bullets. Finding a somewhat quieter spot, Keziah cast her gaze across the prison in search for their target.


Otto... where are you.


A troupe of guards made their way through the chaos towards them. Looks like somebody brought a baton to a swordfight. It took approximately 9.75 seconds to end their pitiful existances. I can't tell whether there was loyalty in that approach, or mind-numbing stupidity. Keziah shrugged, shaking the gloopy droplets of crimson from her curved blade. It wasn't her place to consider the lives of her victims.


After that, the guards seemed to get the message, and strayed away from the break-in duo. She watched at one point, sickly amused, as a gaggle of men, whose muscles were so ridiculously huge there couldn't have been much room left for their pea-sized brains, agitatedly nudged at each-other whilst they looked at her ahdowy form, like school-kids sizing up whether to let the nerd join their football team.


Eventually, as the battle was beginning to die down, she caught sight of a small group disappearing down a corridor. I can't see Otto amongst them, but we have little option now. We must escape if we want to remain stealthy.


She nudged at Mags once again, the merchent having been bemused by the sight of a little girl bludgeoning a guard to death. Taking his wrist, she half-dragged him after the escaping group. "Bunch of bleedin' lunatics..." Mags muttered to himself.


She tailed them for a short while like she had tailed countless other people. It felt somewhat strange, actually, tailing somebody with little intention of ending them. A morbid thought, she mused, brushing it off. Mags was keeping unusually silent, she noticed. Probably still star-struck from all of the violence. Bless him. He's like the fan-boy at his first game with the superstars.


Before they could follow the others down their little hatch, a small gaggle of wide-eyed, breathless guards arrived and began to examine it. Inconveniant, Keziah mused momentarily, before quickly snatching up one of Mags' firearms. Before he could protest, she fired a signle shot down the corridor. The guards sprung into the air like mother-hens dislodged from their pen and promptly panicked away. Mags shot her a frustrated glare, but she knew that he appreciated it really.


It wasn't long before they'd caught up to the group once again, now tailing them through the tunnels. "Don't see our little mate with 'em, do ya?" Mags asked, straining slightly to catch sight of them through the dim visage, "Looks like we chose the wrong pack. Bleedin' typical, my luck." The luck that has already saved you a ridicolous amount of times from both imprisonment and death, Keziah retorted internally, She'll dump you if you treat her like that. "Well, don't see much point in slouchin' around down here. They call me Merchent Mags for a reason; this ain't a bunch of societal cast-offs, but a bunch of societal cast-off's who be in need of weaponry!" His eyes shone like shimering coins. The real Mags has returned to Earth, Keziah thought.


"Greetin's, friends!" Mag's wore his goldest grin as his stride suddenly found a new height of swagger. The pair now reached the back end of the group, and Keziah was glad that her silent, shadowy form would earn her little attention. "'gratz on the escape. Lest yer all death as doorknobs, y'all 'ave 'eard the gunfire in the middle of that madness. Courtesy of myself." He bowed ever so slightly. "The name's Magpie Kroww. Yeah, yeah, I know, bleedin' stupid name. Like I had a choice. Most take the easy way out and call me Mags. And you all are?"


@Shura @Mad Prince of Sanity @DamagedGlasses @Karma200 @HighnessesReign @WritingMan @Der Kojote

 

[Der Kojote]

Grigori Ivanov

Lysian Prison

​

Apparently between the fact that they had taken out a few guards, and the fact there were a lot more "violent" prisoners to contend with, it seemed as though the group that he and Casey had run into had seemingly evaded attention. Or at least were lower on this list of people to pay attention to. A silver haired girl seemed to be taking up the leadership position as she motioned and told the group to follow her. Grigori had no Idea if she was going to lead them to freedom, or was going to take a wrong turn and wind up leading them to a dead end. However, at this point small details like that didn't matter. Right now He had a Bloody teenager to take care of, and apparently this group mostly consisted of women and children, NOT following them, and guarding them, would be a mark against his conscience.


All the piping in the Prison halls did nothing to orient themselves. Instead the only thing it seemed to do was confuse the crap out of people's directional sense. The only thing that broke up the monotony of pipes was the sight of guards which honestly were not a welcome presence. He looked to see the silver haired girl gnawing on her lip, Frustration. Being lost in a prison with a never ending swarm of guards had a tendency to do that. He sighed looking around and cursed under his breath. "Damn it all. Either this prison is massive or we're going in circles...because the only thing we have to orient ourselves is the plumbing..."





Progress was made later however as they stumbled on possible salvation. A maintenance hatch! Where it led he didn't know however it was better than here. The Silver haired girl tried to open the hatch but made little progress in doing so. Grigori walked over to her and the hatch, "Allow me." he said plainly. Another voice came up, "I doubt you'll get it anciano." He didn't look over, there was a hatch and it was between them and freedom. He grabbed the handle and with an audible grunt began to turn it. The hatch opened to reveal a ladder to what were presumably the lower levels of the Prison. He descended into the basement with the rest of the group only happy when the hatch closed above them.


@Shura @DamagedGlasses @The Kaosophile @Karma200 @HighnessesReign @Mad Prince of Sanity @WritingMan @SkyGinge

 

[DamagedGlasses]

Jerom Jaksin

​

The man was confident, that much was to be said. Jerom squinted his eyes to look at the man in the dimness of the tunnel they were in. He was of a slight build, cloaked with a number of heavy looking garbs that did much to close off the true appearance. He was not the most eye friendly person and after Jerom had just been through, he was a bit tired of such nasty fellows. When Aisha had made a break for it down the hallway, Jerom had stayed at her heels as best as he could, the adrenaline pumping through his body allowing him to keep up. Upon coming up to the Hatch, Jerom had been rather disheartened by the the lack of progress the silver haired girl had with trying turn it, but when the man came up and opened it with the some strain, his worries were put to rest. They were even more lightened when the Hatch lead to a dim tunnel that he could only guess was the sewer of the facility. He had always assumed they were held prisoner high up in a tower of sorts, but if they were low enough for a sewer, then he was sorely mistaken.


Their escape had certainly landed them in a place filled with reasons to go back. Jerom would never admit it, and would hardly let it affect him when it came to the need of hiding and surviving, but the amount feeling of the dank air breathing down his neck and scratching at his skin was really beginning to ebb at him. The looks and smell of the place did not help either, but even with the way it smelled like someone's fermented shoe and looked only slight better than that, the spice of freedom made it all seem much better than if, for instance, he was in here because he had accidentally fallen and had no way to get up, completely alone. Now that would be scary. At the moment, at least he had people around him that gave him company.


Coming back to the issue of the man in his heavy garbs, Magpie, as he had introduced himself, Jerom felt slightly unnerved by the sly fellow. His ways of saying things was filled with silver confidence, and while he could respect such a hardy disposition, the boisterous manner in which he spoke did not go well with the way the atmosphere flowed. Piping up, staying quiet, but loud enough to make a point, Jerom responded, "My names Jerom! Mister Pie, why are you here? You...you don't live here do you?" Now that he thought about it, the idea that this man lived in the sewers wasn't all that unbelievable. Hm, yes, he couldn't tell from here, but he was willing to bet that Mags smelled like the sewers too.


@Shura @SkyGinge @Mad Prince of Sanity @Der Kojote @The Kaosophile @WritingMan @HighnessesReign @Karma200 @EverybodyElseIForgot

 

[Brax]

Otto


Well, things were certainly interesting. To say the least.


The wave of prisoners that had been released had successfully pushed the guards to the left side of the prison. For a moment, it would seem as though the prisoners would actually get out alive. They had, for the most part, all been gathered up in the lobby area by this time. Otto had made his way there, pushing through the crowd of prisoners to get to the Sally Port. There was an exit to the prison through that door, though Otto suspected that their escape wouldn't be as easy as finding his way through one of the main entrances of the joint. No, chances were Otto was going to think outside of the box if he wanted to be able to get those who were wrongfully imprisoned back to their lives. When his hand reached for the Sally Port and opened it up, he found that the door wouldn't budge. Was there an automated lock? It very well seemed to be.


"This way... Is a no go."


Otto turned back to face the prisoners who were behind him, with a concerned look on his face. Sure, they had taken the prison by force - but now the same drive would have to be applied for their actual freedom. Considering the fact that Otto was unsure as of how the group could get out of the prison, he looked among a sea of faces momentarily while trying to search for an answer. Most people were just waiting for him to tell them what to do, something Otto found impossible at the moment. While silence was withheld for a few key moments, Otto found himself speaking once more.


"Does anyone know of any ways out of this place besides just... Busting through this fucking door? I've got nothing."


Out of the sea of people, Otto got one answer. The electrical room, opposite of the Sally Port. The rebel would make his way through the crowd once more, kicking the door open to the control room. It was empty. Not even one guard had the spine enough to wait for their death. Otto couldn't blame them, all things considered. This was quite a dangerous situation for both them, and even the king. While a majority of people who were imprisoned happen to do nothing to deserve it - some, like Otto, actually did. Walking into the control room, Otto took a moment to look around. After looking over the various buttons and shit, he found nothing for the exit. So, Otto took a seat at one of the computers and began typing.


Eventually, Otto opened the electric room. With enough typing, and the opening of a program on the desktop which permitted such. When the click of the door was made, a plethora of people had entered the room without the young man - who wasn't mad. One of the prisoners opened the door leading from the electric room to outside... Successfully. However, as he took a couple of steps out into the open air, a bullet would pierce through the man's cranium, causing blood as well as bits and pieces of his brain to splatter among the side of the wall and door beside the area he was standing at.


Some of the blood even splattered onto Otto's face... Well, a couple of speckles. Otto stared down at the corpse, though not in shock. Despite the fact that it could have easily been his head blown through, Otto was not in shock. Just surprised that he had narrowly avoided death due to chance timing. Among the gasps of silence, Otto spoke. "The forest. If you get there, you're safe. It's just passed the courtyard. If we all run at once, most of us have a better chance at making it. If we pile out the door one by one, we're going to end up like this poor guy right here. So, lets all run at the count of three." Silent nods from most signified Otto was being listened to.


"One... Two... Three!"


Various shots rang through the air as the prisoners all ran through the courtyard toward the forest.


@LotusSan

 

[Hales]

Piper Alyss


Prison Escape


Piper stood in awe at the pure destruction they had caused within the prison. Guards lied upon the ground either dead or unconscious – most of them the first rather than the latter. Her shock at being part of such a thing was great to say the least. It wasn’t that she hadn’t killed anyone before – but when she had, it had been discreet. No one had seen her do it. Now, all these prisoners had seen it. She looked around realizing that she really knew none of them. She couldn’t find Shiro among the crowd, but she did distinguish Otto as he pushed his way through all the prisoners – Piper didn’t really count him though. She didn’t really know him; she knew of him.


Somewhere along the line, Piper had missed something because she hear Otto counting. When he reached three, everyone took off running. Piper really had no choice but to join them although where they were going was beyond her. Piper’s run was more of a skip than a run. Pain still radiated from her ankle showing that she did not escape the riot unscathed. The grimace on her face was obvious as she followed the prisoners, trying desperately to keep up. As she emerged outside she saw a man dead on the ground, a single bullet had been shot through his cranium. At the sight of that Piper only ran faster. The pain was a hindrance, but Piper knew that she would have to deal. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone with a gun – they were in throwing range. Piper swiftly flicked the baton – she still carried it from the prison riot – and sent it spinning through the air. She never saw whether she had actually hit her mark or not, but she didn’t get shot so Piper was fairly pleased.


Finally, Piper had reached the safety of the trees and she slowed a bit – she knew better than to stop moving completely. That would make her an easy target and she would be dead before she had time to process it. Piper took cover behind a large tree and stopped to catch her breath. She briefly examined her ankle before concluding that it definitely wasn’t broken and if it was sprained, it was fairly minor. Sighing in relief, Piper peered around the tree looking for her fellow prison escapees curious to see who had survived and who had not.

 

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_03/57a8c1d05abe0_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.d3489b3c5597647d8056775c2e6c8aba.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="45241" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_03/57a8c1d05abe0_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.d3489b3c5597647d8056775c2e6c8aba.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Danica Blaire - Prison Escape/Forest


Filled with Fury, Danica bolted through the open doorway and headed toward the forest and freedom. Her state knew only the primal need to escape confinement. With strength added to her from within, Danica easily made the distance in haste.


Once in the sanctuary of the cover of the trees and underbrush, she stopped. Heaving breaths coursed through her as the Fury sought to maintain its hold on her psyche; however, with no other available targets to maim or kill, the raw emotion slowly receded. The strength that had been lent to her quickly dissipated and Danica slumped to the forest floor as the Fury left her. She collapsed to her hands and knees and retched, uncaring for the vomit that splattered into her blonde hair.


She glanced at her blood covered hands and tried to suppress the memories of the men she had killed. While it was true that Danica hadn't wanted to stay imprisoned, she felt remorse for the way in which she had helped fight for her release and the freedom of the other prisoners.


It was better I had died in there with the others, she thought, rather than unleash this Fury from within and allow it to reign free within me. Danica sat back on her ankles, raked her dirty, matted hair from her face and looked around the forest with weary, grey eyes. She hoped to locate Otto, the one who started the entire affair and find the answer to the question that incessantly hammered in her mind: what next?


@LotusSan @Tree

 

[Rifleman]

Cu Chulainn





The idea was to take off on the count of three...... Of-course it was as Cu slowly stared at the figure as he was about to charge outside leading the escapee group into the hope of freedom, at the cost of a few guards, some prisoners, nothing majorly serious as he felt the pressure was about to escalate as they were going to be dodging what ever they could throw at them. Firearms and all..... Cu slowly felt his mind ponder this idea and had a bad feeling. He went to grab Jett on the shoulder, and nodded as he took a deep breath and waited for the order to rush out into the field of fire, and then freedom.... Then payback and to liberate the world from the tyranny of the King, who revered himself as a god, or so Cu thought, it felt like it was more bad ass if they got payback against a guy who revered himself a god. Then hearing the order to sprint out into the open Cu saw the group take off, he was fast, and he could be over there into the forest in a heart beat, but was it worth being one of the first ones getting shot? Nope. He strolled outside, in middle of the group as they got past the courtyard and then utter chaos.... as everyone scattered into different directions, even Jett, fucker was right by his side and now he's gone....


Feeling the shrubs and the looks of endless trees, hell he wasn't complaining freedom smelled good, that's all that mattered as he slowly creeped around the vegetation, looking for Jett, and the other men of the group. He slowly grasped a tree has he took a deep breath before thinking to himself. " Where the fuck is this asshole.... "


He searched and searched and scratched his head before coming out into a open spot where a slim figure stood waiting for him. It was Jett, waiting for Cu to find him as obvious, he must of not been searching for him. The guy was a dick, Cu knew it, but he accepted it and is now friends with a professional dick. He slowly shook his head as he walked up to the figure in negativity, then slowly letting out a slight grin after as he held out his hand.





@Draven Valentine

 

[The Kaosophile]

CASEY WARD

LOCATION: SOME DARK PLACE


STATUS: OHSHIT

​

There was a moment as she descended the ladder that Casey was too tired to panic. As the hatch closed, however, Casey caught a glimpse of her mother, pulling the gun out of that old box. Casey was once again trapped in that tiny closet, air was suddenly scarce. Casey shook with silent sobs. Get out here, you little shit. "No, please..." Casey whispered so softly she was barely breathing. Through the blurring tears, Casey's eyes adjusted to the gloom of the maintenance tunnels, and she was able to locate Grigori. She latched onto him as the walls closed around them. Closer. Closer. Too close. They were going to be crushed by the mass of pipes and cords that ran along one wall. The air was thick with steam and heat, and Casey's lungs were filling with the foul vapours of the maintenance tunnels. The creaking of stressed pipes was akin to the death screeches of animals, warped and twisted by the acoustics of the narrow tunnel system. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no please, no. Let me out, I want out. Get me out of here. I need to be out of here. "I need air, I can't breathe." Her voice came out as a whisper as Casey held tighter onto Grigori as she grew faint from hyperventilation and simple exhaustion. Every muscle ached, every nerve cried out for rest, but Casey couldn't rest, her mother was coming towards the closet door with a gun, and if she ... if she didn't... Casey's grip relaxed, but instinct and drying blood kept her firmly attached to Grigori as she drifted into a fitful slumber.


"Casey? Is that you? Oh, my god, I thought I'd never get to see you. Quinn and I were so worried about you." A voice proclaimed, faint and echoing, with no real recognizable features to it. Casey remembered what the voice said, and it was certainly from an older man, but she could not remember the accent, or the inflection, or the cadence. Casey turned around, to face the origin of the voice. A man met her eye, he was kneeling, arms open, ready to embrace Casey.


"Da?" Casey said, or she tried to, but no sound would come out of her mouth. When she tried to move her feet to run to her dad, they held fast in place. Her father didn't seem to mind, he stood, and walked towards Casey, and two more feet became visible from behind him. Casey clung to her father's side as he approached... No, I'm Casey... So who... "...Quinn?" The girl was a perfect copy of Casey, but there was a small scar on Casey's left arm that was absent from this girl's... 'Girl'?


Casey and Quinn, perfectly healthy young babies, one girl and one boy.


One girl and one...


@Shura @DamagedGlasses @Der Kojote @Karma200 @HighnessesReign @Mad Prince of Sanity @WritingMan @SkyGinge

 

[SkyGinge]

Mags twitched slightly, and Keziah's rare smile was masked by her helmet. Mags abhors children, she noted, especially innocent optimists like this one. He had no place in a prison like this. She would maybe have felt sorry for the boy, but really she felt nothing. Aside from her general apathy, children of this boy's age reminded her of the distant, dream-like childhood that had been torn away from her.


"Were yer not listenin' to what I just said?" Mags scowled, "Most people call me Mags. Not Mr Pie. Do I look like a dessert to you? And why would anyone live in a bleedin' sewer?! I-I mean..." Poor Mags. Working in a trade full of grubby, simple, middle-aged men had left him completely inept at dealing with the younger generations. "Please call me Mags, Jerom. As for why we're 'ere, that reminds me..."


Mags barged his way into the bulk of the group, his lazy eyes browsing their forms. "No... no... no... definitely not... noperino..." he mumbled to himself, then throwing his arms up the air, he let out a harsh sigh. "Bleedin' typical! The damn trickster left 'imself back in that hellhole." He slouched back to join Keziah at the back and sighed once more. "S'pose I ought to explain us. There was a certain prisoner up there, yer stereotypical 'act-first-for-yer-bleedin'-stupid-cause' dishonest rogue type who swindled me out of a lot of money. The silver-tongued salamander talked his way out of outright payment and left me robbed of valuable materials. Seems 'e's snaked 'is way out of this one too." He stopped momentarily, perhaps debating whether or not to return, and then abandoned those hopes amid another vigorous shrug. "Miserly old goat. He'd damn well better not get 'imself deaded up there..."


@DamagedGlasses

 

[Shura]

Aisha


Maintenance tunnels


The tunnels were much darker and intimidating than Aisha first anticipated. Once everyone had gathered near the base of the ladder there were only 3 ways to go left right or straight. There was no telling where each path would lead or how close we were to the edge of the base. She hoped they would be able to find the sewers and a way out of the darkness soon. Her attention was drawn to the woman who spoke in a different language and she groaned softly the last thing she wanted to be reminded of was a horror movie! Bad enough they didn't have an exact route on how to escape and the possibility of guards lurking around now her mind turned to worried thoughts of creepy crawlies lingering around the darkness waiting to kill the hopeful survivors!


Aisha shook the thoughts from her head quickly, and took a deep breath trying to ignore the stale metallic tinge to the air. Sighing softly she looked ahead debating on a path up until two figures appeared from the darkness. Neither looked like guards but that didn't ease the girls worry any less. as Jerom spoke up first to the odd couple Aisha was ready to pull him back should the little one be angered. There was no telling what it took for some people to snap as all people were different. The fact that they were already in the sewers meant they were possibly prisoners as well. She tilted her head slightly at the mention of breaking into the prison, completely confused until it was further clarified that they were trying to break someone out.


The silver haired girl tried to place a face to the description before shaking her head. "I... don't remember anyone by that kind of a description. We're just trying to find our way out of here... the sooner the better..." She muttered glancing up to the hatch. There was no sound of anyone approaching the entrance to the tunnels so they had some time, but every moment they remained rooted beneath the ladder the greater their chance for recapturer. She quirked a brow at the offer of firearms and reasoned that they had to be the source of the gun shots earlier. That or a guard had pulled a personal firearm in the crowd. To which she was very happy they were out of harms way for the moment.


@DamagedGlasses @SkyGinge @Karma200 @HighnessesReign @Der Kojote @The Kaosophile @Mad Prince of Sanity