Fantasy ~Rebirth: Rise From Discord~

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/57a8c1a87e8cb_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.35d412b9d56296c11e74266deb564659.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="43597" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/57a8c1a87e8cb_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.35d412b9d56296c11e74266deb564659.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Danica Blaire - Lysia - Prison


Danica kept her eyes locked on the institutional grey painted ceiling above her as her cellmate muttered about making someone's lives less convenient. Danica exhaled slowly as she recalled having felt the same way years before.


The six years she had been incarcerated, with the same weekly, daily and hourly routines had taken their toll. Danica still fought to contain the fury that smoldered like banked coals deep in her spirit lest it manifest and thus give her captors the very secrets that they strove to painfully extract from her. For six years, Danica had thus far managed to contain the beast within despite all of their experimentation on her. She had found ways to remain impassive and often withdrew into herself to ignore the pain of the ministrations plied upon her.


She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to have the sun caress her face from where it radiated softly through high, white clouds against a light blue sky. Danica long since resigned herself to her captivity and over the years had lost touch with the most simplest of pleasures that many now took for granted. Danica missed walking barefoot in the lake where the mud oozed between her toes. Or, standing in the open with no walls, bars or artificial light – even in a torrential downpour, was lost to her now. Danica pined to be able to walk freely, without the constant clank and rattle of the chains and shackles that had bound her so long they had become part of her.


However, her freedom was not to be. Instead, they found her yet another cellmate as the king's men continued their incessant crack-down on any resistance. Those who weren't killed outright were crammed tightly into the penal system and usually mistreated, abused or otherwise assaulted to the entertainment of the guards and soon were forgotten by any family that they may have left behind.


Slowly, Danica opened her eyes and allowed them to once again focus on the same ceiling she had been staring at for the last six years. Solid and unmoving, the concrete slab above her mocked her as it easily held her freedom at bay.


In a slow-paced, monotone voice, she addressed her cellmate without tearing her gaze from the unrelenting ceiling above. "I'm sure the rebels would appreciate the gesture," she said.


@LotusSan - Cellmate

 

[IantoP]

Noam Aschsi


Prison, Lyria


Noam gradually steadied his breathes, even though each time he intentionally slowed them they hurt more. He was also becoming more assured that at least one rib had been nearly broken. Although further examination allowed him to relax about the concept. He raised his head, ignoring the strain on his neck, and lifted his shirt just high enough for him to be able to see the bottom half of his torso. There was a bruise forming across the line of his bottom left rib. He hesitated, then brought up the hand not grabbing his shirt and carefully running the tips of his fingers along the punished skin. Even the barely existent pressure caused him to have to hold in a groan.


He then heard small bits of shuffling behind him, shortly followed by soft rhythmic sounds. The latter was the only reason he didn't immediately spin around and prepare himself for a fight. He had thought the cell was empty. The sudden change in that view only made him more alarmed. Yet the music was so soothing, despite the strained voice behind it. His body became less tense while he silently listened, his hands relaxing on his torso.


The softly sang lyrics were hard to make out as full and clear words, but he had heard this before. His rebel party had sang nearly every day; They sang during hunts, raids, fights, while the sun arrived and left, and always in variety. He closed his eyes the first time he heard this melody, just as he closed his eyes this time.


His eyes were only closed for a few seconds before he remembered the cold floor beneath him and marks adorned by his body. His brown eyes opened in a flash while he pushed himself up as fast as he was capable of considering his recent injuries. They opened wide, not only because of the pain, and he turned himself around to find a boy on the seemingly uncomfortable bed.


Cellmate: @Greentail

 

[Penelope Burns]

Sinda


Prison - Lysia


Sinda found herself staring out into the prison, watching the back and forth patrols of guards, staring at the other prisoners from across the way. The 'king' seemed to have no problem imprisoning children, as many cells were occupied by people who couldn't have been older than seventeen. How could anyone do that, relinquish the rights of even the youngest citizen?


In her thoughts she almost didn't hear her cellmate, who shockingly spoke to her. "Thanks. If you'd like to join, I'm sure they'll need new recruits. If we ever get out, that is." Sinda said this with a bit of a cheerful tone, not reacting to her cellmate's seeming lack of interest.


Sinda didn't care whether or not the other woman had interest in the conversation, it was just good to have someone to talk to. Cricket was always her go-to for conversation, but a replacement was always welcome until she got him back. And she would get him back. That was her promise.


Cellmate: @Kharmin

 

[Kharmin]

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/57a8c1aa1bd67_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.f0b2f39496c3bbf212c6079545deb02f.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="43665" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/57a8c1aa1bd67_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.f0b2f39496c3bbf212c6079545deb02f.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Danica Blaire - Lysia - Prison


Internally, Danica smiled at her cellmate's optimism but outwardly, her demeanor showed no changed. It was refreshing to have someone who spoke of a time where they were not in prison and who had aspirations beyond the next day's meal.


She clasped her hands across her stomach as she remained lying on her back. The chains on the shackles echoed lightly in their small cell at the movement – small, metallic chimes of reminder to Danica of her fettered situation. The sound rang on her deaf ears though for after six years of being chained thus, Danica no longer heard the chains and their constant ridicule at her expense.


"Rising up against the establishment is what put me here in the first place," Danica said with the same slow, monotone pace in her voice. "Besides, I'd rather not die just to 'make their lives a bit less convenient' as you said."


Although the alternative to remaining locked up and being the subject of endless experiments wasn't much of a living either. There had been other prisoners here much longer than Danica who had attempted and failed at escape. She never learned their fates; either they were executed or removed to another wing of the complex to be held or used in manners much like they used her. It helped to explain the one subject – victim, really – that Danica had slain in her released fury during her early years of incarceration. It helped her to think that he was a dead man anyway and eased the guilt that her conscious habitually reminded her when she had so many long, lonely and quiet hours to reflect on such matters.


But Danica had learned how to suppress her guilt. It didn't make it go away, however she managed to restrain it deep inside along with her seething fury. Oft times, the scientists and psychologists in the lab had tried to play on her guilt to invoke her rage by describing in great detail all of those her anger had killed. Their efforts revealed naught as Danica admitted her guilt and wrapped it in icy hatred for the person that she had become. She buried them together, deeply, and fought against their release every waking hour, lest she become that person again.


Still, the temptation was very real. Danica considered that any release from prison, even if it meant fighting and dying against the king's men, might be worth the price even for a moments freedom from her imprisonment, both by shackles and the coils of restraint within. To be truly free from any and all inhibitions ....


But such fantasies were folly. Danica dismissed the false hope and returned to her stoic façade. There was no use dwelling on things that simply wouldn't be, and in time her cellmate would learn the same.


Because all that they had now, was time.


@LotusSan : cellmate

 

[DeerPrince]

Luhan Taylors~


Lysia Prison





Looking up, he gave a shy smile at the other boy in the cell with him. It seemed as if he had just arrived. How Luhan had missed his entrance, the teen didn't know. It had been a long time since he had seen another face, regardless friendly or not. The guards generally ignored him, as he never caused that much trouble outwardly. "Hey... I'm Luhan, why are you here?" His voice was warmer now, less scratchy and hoarse. It had been a long time since he had spoken to anyone. The words left his throat parched, and they flowed out of his lips strangely, awkwardly. Running a hand through his hair, which was greasy from lack of hygiene. His hair had become midnight black again, the ends though, were still a velvety red, after he had last dyed it. In a swift, practiced motion, he tied up the ends of his hair into a loose ponytail. The teen's hazel eyes scanned the surroundings, looking at the other male before him, taking in his features.


He stood for a moment, swaying slightly, as if drunk. Outside, he could hear the door opening again, someone else must have been lead in. His brain floated back to the day he had been arrested. Over some petty crime he didn't even commit. Luhan had been minding his own business, standing there, looking at goods. Some random person had shoved him, and he had felt something heavy being pushed into his arms, something cold. "There he is! Catch him! You won't get away from us, you thief!" Luhan had looked up in bewilderment as he was wrenched off the ground. One of the guards snarled at him, "you little thief, you won't get away from us now, locked away in prison."





He had tried to explain what had happened, yet they wouldn't listen to him. Finally snapping in frustration, he pulled out his torino rapier, pointing at one of the guards. "You move, I will stab you through." He had growled, which, probably wasn't the smartest thing to say or do. He had wounded at least four of the six guards before they called in for reinforcements. Overpowered, he was cuffed and brought away, locked away to rot in prison forever.


Cellmate: @IantoP

 

[IantoP]

Noam Aschsi


Prison, Lysia


Noam considered moving further away from the other, but the pain he still retained on his rib was largely discouraging. "My name is Noam," He answered slowly. The other's voice sounded strange, but the blonde wasn't surprised considering what a period of time could cause in a Human. His next response was hesitant, as they had no prior affiliation with each other. Their only known similarity was being put in this cell.


"Evading the king and rebellion." He attempted to convey the reason in as little words as possible. He decided not to return the question, not only because of the intruding nature of the question; He sought to annoy the boy now, and he wouldn't have listened to his answer, anyway.


Taking a deep breath right then was possibly more foolish than kicking the king in the groin. His eyes immediately squeezed tight and a clipped shout escaped him. "Sorry," He quickly said, hoping the shout didn't cause trouble with the guards. The reasoning was flawed, but possible. There was no way of accurately knowing how the guards react to certain actions, noises, and prisoners, after such a short time here. Yet he knew clearly that the king usually executes rebellion parties at the soonest possibility, the knowledge made him cautious about being here.


Cellmate: @Greentail

 

[Brax]

Otto & Lyandra


[A collabopost brought to you by Demensia and Tree!]
​

Otto maintained the fetal position on the ground, holding the would on his head loosely as a trail of blood began to seep off the side of his forehead, dripping every so often onto the floor in the process. The blood had covered a couple of his digits and the pain remained. For a moment, he wondered if that fat oriental man had broken his skull open, but Otto had no choice but to feign recovery as quickly as possible. Any sign of weakness was pounced on in Lysia, by both guards and other prisoners alike. While Otto did not worry so much about Aiden, he worried about the guards seeing him injured. So, he would scramble to his side of the cell, pulling his body up onto the mattress and taking a seat on the uncomfortable, thin shit-excuse for a bed.


Using the bottom of his shirt, avoiding the area on his shirt where his saliva was wiped, Otto began patting at the areas around the wound, as to wipe up a bit of the bleeding. He failed miserably of course, but he stopped any further trails of the liquid to run down over his face and cover his vision. The blood stain wouldn't be removed so easily, and the sink's water was not worthy of Otto's face as far as he was concerned. It had been three months since he was locked up. As a leader of the organization he was caught with, at first, Otto wished for a swift death. Soon, such thoughts turned to vengeance. Against the king, his followers, or anyone who got in his way of taking out either. Looking up to the cell door, he noticed Yi's ugly face peering in at him, still. The bridge of Otto's nose crinkled in frustration.


Yi stared directly at the man who seemed to have curled into a ball, who was holding back the blood that was seeping into his own hand. "Fuck me? I'M THE ONE IN CHARGE. FUCK YOU." He said the rolls of his chin jiggling with all the intimidation of a doughnut. Yi replaced his gun with a baton and with all the might he could muster in his chubby arms moved forward and whacked Otto's arm. "Fuck. You. Not. Me." Each swing would hit a different place and while it was not the most strong of strikes it would leave Otto with bruises. "Learn your place you scumbag." Yi's face was flushing a bright purple of rage as he slammed the cell door.


Yi of course was by no means done with Otto. He began banging on the cell door with the baton in frustration. Letting out all his desires of pain and torment on the door, Otto was to live in the cell as per the king's orders but yi would be damned if he didn't like it. "You’re going to rot here you piece of..." Yi looked almost blank as he racked his brain for the swear word that had just managed to escape him and settled on the closest thing. "Poop. You piece of fucking poop."


When Yi had the cell door opened once more, there was nothing that Otto could do. Keeping his teeth clenched throughout the process, starting from the first strike of the baton. After the second whack hit him in the same place, he attempted to switch up his positioning so that it would not get hit again; this resulted in Otto's side taking the brunt of the damage. Even though he was sitting on his bed without another word, the sight must have been awkward to take in by anyone who was watching. Otto was forced to literally be a sitting duck in this scenario.


Yi walked out, and the doors closed. Otto fell onto the side opposite of the one which was hit with the baton, not bothering to look up at Yi as he hit the cell door repeatedly with the baton. Otto would remember that man's face and make him pay. They would all pay, with time... It was just the matter of how Otto was going to get his ass out of the predicament he was in. Where there was a will, there was a way. Whether it simply fell into his hands and he took it, Otto needed to start planning right away. And yet, Yi continued babbling on.


"Did you just call me a piece of fucking poop? Seriously. Who the hell says that?"


Yi looked at him with a death glare but was immediately attentive and calmed when a women's voice spoke from behind him. "Excuse me, I am Lyandra Miarioda. I take it you are Mr. Yi?" The chubby man would take notice of the unique armor of a military officer and nod. He was internally overjoyed that perhaps the military took notice of him finally. "Yes, well, It would be best if we didn't talk from prying ears. If I recall the toilets don't have cameras and I rather don't want anyone to see what I have planned for you." Lyandra was dreadfully honest, even she knew she was a terrible liar. Honesty was surely the best way forward but being discrete would also be required.


Yi was blinded by the fact an officer had a plan for him. "I can help the military? Yes, the toilet part is a bit weird but I'll go with you." Yi made a large nefarious grin at Otto before he left with Lyandra. Oh the dreams he now had, maybe he was finally going to join the military? As an officer? Perhaps he was becoming a spy or... His mind rambled on and he felt the energy of him moving up in the world as a truly happy grin appeared on his face. He was being recognized, acknowledged for his life of serving. It is a shame he couldn't smell his own imminent death from all the oddity that the situation was. The bathroom was entered and he turned to the woman. "I'll do anything for the military."


Lyandra smiled. The man was thicker and fatter than his information would do justice. The naivety of the corrupt man was absurd, but then so was she for a while. "Yes, well, how far are you willing to go?" Lyandra stepped forward. "Are you willing to put your life on the line for the king? We could use someone like you." Another step, one hand behind her back, sliding out a long but thin blade. "What I want to say is, I'm sorry." Lyandra swung her blade into the man’s ear like lightning aimed at a 55 degree angle penetrating upwards to his brain. Her other hand would swing over his mouth as she brought him down until the thrashing stopped. she dragged him back and tilted him on his side as Lyandra made quick work of undressing the body, stuffing the clothes as best as she could into a bag. Grasping the keys and the baton she looked both ways before heading to Otto's cell. She didn't have much time and needed to be quick.


Conveniently enough, in between the time when Lyandra had killed Yi and was traveling to the right cell block, a guard went to use the bathroom. Noticing that Yi’s dead body was lying on the ground, he immediately went to tell his Captain, Krite, of what he had found. It was obvious that the death of Yi was a murder, considering the fact that the man was lying in a pool of his own blood. It was very unlikely that on his first day, Yi would have decided to take his own life at the prison. Krite, not aware of what he should do next, moved to make Tolgan aware of the situation. When he walked into his office, however, Krite would find his General passed out in his chair. Lovely timing. So, the next best person to make aware would be Lobo – who issued all officers to the lobby immediately. Both sides of the prison were left without any guards while they congregated in the lobby. Lobo had suspicions about the group themselves. No one thought a thing when Lyandra passed; they just moved to attention because she was a higher ranking than they were.


"You're that Otto guy right? The rebel? Here." The door was unlocked and the keys and baton alongside the bag of clothing was chucked at the man’s feet. "Hope there isn't a blood stain on it and you might want to wash your face so you don't raise suspicion. You’re getting out of here."


Otto knew there was something weird going on when the guards on the right side of the prison all flooded out at once. There was no announcement. Obviously, Otto had no idea who this woman was, but she was letting him out of his cell and there was no time to think before acting. Immediately, he turned to his cell mate. “It’s time, Aiden. You need to take this lady and go keep an eye on the lobby entrance in case any soldiers come back while i'm doing my thing.”


Without another word, Otto grabbed the baton and tossed it to Aiden, with the hopes that he would keep an eye on Lyandra. Sure, she let him out of his cell; but what was her power play? Unclear motives typically spelt more disastrous situations when not followed up on. The keys were something that would come to Otto’s favor, however. He would quickly begin to unlock everyone’s cages, not bothering to look at anyone who he was letting out. The more people who were out of their cells, the more of a distraction the guards would be forced to face. Otto cared not for altercation, but he wanted his freedom. When everyone was out of their cells, obviously things were beginning to get loud. So, Otto began yelling for attention at the top of his lungs. His face was stained with blood. Ribs were bruised to shit. None of that mattered, at the moment.





“Do you want your freedom?”


And with that, guards began to flood from the lobby, into the right side of the cell. Each with their batons out, no guns in sight. Obviously, if any prisoner got their hands on a gun, it would spell disaster. They had no choice but to fight hand-to-hand with anything they had.





“THEN FIGHT FOR IT!”


A unanimous roar followed Otto's call for arms before a large amount of prisoners ran to collide with the officers.


@Godman873 @LotusSan @Greentail

 

[Hales]

Piper Alyss


Piper turned her head at the sound of jingling keys. She'd been about to snap some snide remark about how it was not a guard's place to barge into a lady's cell just to get a piece of ass, when she noticed that it wasn't a guard - rather, it was the guy from before. Otto... was that his name? Piper was about to walk out the open door as Otto moved on to unlock the next cell, when she hesitated for a minute. Did she really think that he would let her out and not expect anything of her at a later time? Was her freedom really worth trusting a man? Then another thought dawned on her. She had been thrown in jail because she had been mistakenly labeled a rebel - and rebels weren't exactly released just like that. Piper understood then that this was her only chance to get out - so she would have to go for it. She smirked a bit. It's not like I haven't dealt with rebels in the past. Piper turned to her cellmate Shiro. "Are you coming? This may be the only shot we get at freedom..." and Piper walked out into the dayroom before glancing back to make sure Shiro came too - no woman deserved to be locked up with the way these stupid guards had been acting, regardless of what they had done.


While Piper was now in the dayroom, she didn't immediately rush to clump in the center in front of Otto. She stood off to the side - relatively close to her cell - but not inside of it. After everyone's cell had been unlocked, Otto yelled out, "Do you want your freedom?" At this point, Piper didn't doubt he was who she thought he was - Otto, the rebel leader well known for creating havoc for the king throughout Assyria. It was clear from the motivation his voice spread through the people, the sense that he was accustomed to people following him, a sound of leadership that even Piper could feel - not that she would allow herself to fall for it. She tilted her head slightly as he spoke, responding to his words quietly under her breath. "Do I want my freedom? Yes. Will I follow you? Maybe. Do you command me? Not even for a single day in hell." She glanced around for anyone who might've heard her, then she realized she really didn't care. "THEN FIGHT FOR IT!" Otto's scream resounded. The guards were now swarming into the dayroom - all men, armed with batons but lacking the guns they usually carried.


While most people, rallied by Otto's brief speech, charged into the fight, Piper remained where she was. She knew she would only get in other peoples way if she charged in without her weapons. Her hand rested next to her thigh. Even though it was gone now, the ghost of the strap that once held a dagger there haunted her mind. Without her weapons, she literally felt useless, yet she refused to appear weak. That wasn't how she expected to survive among these people - these rebels. No, she needed to stop thinking like that. She was a rebel now too.


A guard had noticed her standing off to the side and began to approach her. Piper rolled her eyes as she realized what she would have to do before she charged at him. He had his baton drawn, grasped in his left hand, and Piper could not let him use it. She jumped and kicked the one place that every man was weak, the one place that she knew would cripple him, and the pain in his eyes confirmed that he was no different than any other man she'd ever encountered. He fell to the ground and Piper grabbed the baton as it slipped out of his hand. She smacked him once again in the balls, and then really hard on the head, watching - satisfied - as his eyes slipped shut. She flipped the baton experimentally in her hands. It wasn't a weapon she would be able to do much damage with, but after feeling its weight, she knew she could throw it accurately and that was really all she needed.


Interacted with: @Flawless


Mentioned/Quoted: @Tree

 

[Mad Prince of Sanity]

Christoph Welzin


Cell


Christoph felt almost like grinning as the woman asked him if his arm was hurt, but an unmistakable cheeky flush lit up his face and ears as he looks at his arm "Ummm well.... yes and no... it WAS hurting but it's just uncomfortable right now." he chuckles and draws himself up a bit, more than a little bravado in his voice as he announces "It may be my good arm but I'm alright and...." He blinks slowly, thinking, before rubbing the back of his head "Ah well... things happen hehehe...." he turns to Jerom and smiles "It is nice to meet you Jerom..." he turns back to Aisha "Aisha...." he clears his throat quickly and adjusts his clothes a bit. Jumping slightly at the sound of very loud speech and the repeated sound of wood smacking flesh across the jail. He sighs, suspecting that, despite not knowing the man's name, he knew whom was on the receiving end of said blows. Really Christoph saw little reason for more... common-folk to be so... obvious with their defiance of people. Best to work in the shadows, where one's opponent is not even aware they are there, and then strike with lightning efficiency.





Still, Christoph does glance out between the oppressing iron bars of the cell to witness the hefty Asian man banging his club against the door with the rest of his fury. His attention more completely fixating on the events transpiring when a woman in what looked to be an officer's uniform approaches the large man. Christoph could not hear what they were saying but... from the 'too-good-too-be-true' grin on the fat man's face.... it probably was. The woman herself hid her thoughts rather well, but he drew an unmistakable line from her current 'proper face' to his own. Maybe Christoph was being hopeful that the woman had malicious intentions, maybe she was a particularly cruel woman who was commending him on his out-bursting behavior, maybe the man really had done something worry of note. However, if his stupidity shown just moments ago by uselessly beating on a door... it was doubtful. As far as Christoph was concerned, his thoughts were confirmed as the lady seems to lure the man back out of the room, presumably to somewhere secluded. Only one thought resounding through his mind as a small smile appears on Christoph's lips "Fool...."


Christoph turns back to his cellmates, standing fully and stretching, trying to work out any kinks in his muscles from the long ride here to feel better. That and, more than likely if his hunch into that woman's countenance was correct and not a fallacy of his own hopeful imagination, and she was not here for something else involving a man and a secluded place, things were about to becoming interesting. "I think that... it's probably best if we stay um.. ya know.. in shape? Stretching and all that.." still, despite his confidence in his assumption, were he wrong at least saying as much as he had would not make him look like an utter ass should he be wrong. Hell all his assumption had to go on was that the fat man's conduct would not normally warrant an officer speaking calmly to them, his expression... and come to think of it.... the woman did seem a bit more... lax than most people in positions of authority. That he knew from firsthand experience. Shortly after thinking this over, his suspicions are confirmed as he hears the sound of large cell doors swinging open and turns to see the man who had been bruised up unlocking everyone's cells. Their's being last of course.


As the man strides to the center of the room and yells to all assembled, Christoph is the first of three to step out of the threshold of the cell he shared with Aisha and Jerom. Already having had enough of the small, damp, and overly cramped space. With poor excuses for beds that did not even have silk sheets for crying out loud! Christoph shudders softly and rolls his shoulders as the groups of prisoners and guards clash with one-another. He stays right beside the entrance to the cell. He was no pugilist, no brawler fit for fighting with his fists, never mind he was merely a boy. Still.... hand him a Rapier or a sword in general and even a grown man would learn to fear sharpened steel in his hands. Still.... chances are he could probably find a sword or more decent weapon just by avoiding the fighting altogether. They had all mistakenly flocked to one side of the room and thus Christoph looks to Jerom and Aisha, a large, confident smile on his face "I believe I am just going to go around them and find something more suitable to call a weapon. You're welcome to come with me... or go fight in that mess..." Christoph nods toward the brawl transpiring before ducking away around the walkway in the direction the guards did NOT come from. However he was no fool and once he reaches the doorway to the rest of the prison, peaks around the side, slow and careful as not to attract attention. Using the shadow of the wall and his darker complexion to help hide himself.


@Tree @Shura @Damage @Hales

 

[HighnessesReign]

Rusty Knayls


Prison


The surrounding world fell along in motion with Rustys slow movement of her head as she allowed its weight to tug her head in the directed position it was appointed to. The cells dreary dull coloring dragging itself in each angel and allowing the patched individual to witness her room in more unflattering views. Just as predicted the many cracks decorating the opposing wall didn't grow in beauty or excitement even when she glanced at them as her head is at a side ways position. Rusty then completed the task of stretching soon after growing bored, instead allowing her calloused fingertips to travel to each protruding knuckle moving beneath her bleached skin. applying pressure beneath them with practiced hands, the single clicking of her bones releasing their past strain filled the silence which had grown between the two females in the cell.


"Chika I don-," Rusty had begun speaking in an exasperated tone with an intention of completing her planned statement when a concerning sound gradually filed through the air. A clattering of withering metal dragging itself, a rustic tinge of age etching itself into the given sound. The womens lanky fingers fell limp upon each other as shouts chimed through the air at varying rates and tones, ones inferred to be featured by rejoice and happiness. Such a sound was only heard when a prisoner may have won a card game or simply won a bet, though it oddly felt as if these were said hearted in a more genuine portion of the positive emotions.


"El infierno?"(The hell?) Rusty spoke dryly as her eyebrows returned to their natural position with their ends meeting one another in a facial expression of confusion and greed. Many emotions came in pairs and though it surprised few such emotions as confusion and greed fell near one another.


No matter what one may say, someone constantly desires something may it be a lost lover or money. There are many things may it be physical, mental or inanimate that someone may wish to obtain at a moment. Wealth seems to tug many into a spiraling tornado of greed though confusion is easier to obtain for we feel it on a day to day basis. And all that is able to feed into such a thing and subside its lust is, knowledge. Humans and creatures survive off of knowledge, and such a thing is so easily craved, so easily sought for.


Rusty with harsh pressure directed towards her finger tips shoved herself off of her rock bed and strode towards the bars, fingers outstretched as she grew closer prepared to grasp onto the poles and tug herself as close to them as capable so she may perhaps catch a simple glance as to what was occurring. But suddenly just as she fell to a halt a familiar brunette appeared at a frantic speed, dust and debris gradually being absorbed by what sweat decorated his hairline. Rusty opened her mouth prepared to question the boy as to how he had gotten out of his cell and more importantly why he was still here but with fresh shock she instead watched as the familiar boy had slammed the keys into their cells lock and unlocked it with stumbling but firm hands before moving in the direction of those who were as well locked up.


"Infierno sí!"(Hell yeah!) Rusty then exclaimed as the bleached fingers of her left hand reached out and gripped the cells steel bars. The cool frigidness of the bars nipping at the inside of her clammy palm, gradually disappearing as it was devoured by its warmth. For a moment all was seemingly still within her vision, the sounds which surrounded Rusty muffled as if she had thrown a quilt around a speaker. The vibrations of both prisoner and guards feet clinging to the bottoms of her shoes until in a single second Rusty regained her senses and with a determined glint shining within her eye she threw open the gate which had caged them within their cell as wild animals for long.


"Let's go Chika," Rusty announced glancing back over her shoulder fiercely as she eyed Mayumi. Her fingers gradually began to tremble with overt anticipation, the opportunity of freedom as great as death and punishment. "I'll try my best to not let any men mess up that pretty face of yours." The right edge of Patches lips twitched upwards uncomfortably in an emotion of pure confidence, the women seemingly free of worry, oblivious to what danger may lie before them by choice.


Suddenly a yell of hope fell through out the air, one drenched in pure, sacred ferocity and unimaginable emotion. It was short, the individual who shouted a single question not dragging out the last syllybal of the statement; instead they allowed its words to echo through out the large room. The sound waves of their voice sucking up even the whispers of those who it passed, the crowd growing deafeningly quiet until four words began to bounce of the prisons dull walls.


"Then fight for it," Rusty quoted subconsciously as she witnessed the sudden clash between the two sides. One which held a false imagine of law and one which held the truth which belonged to the law. The truth which was silenced by the law and hidden away by it.


Rusty for a moment remained a bystander in the situation, her eyes dancing a crossed the clustered crowd of many individuals she lacked the knowledge of their names in. She held no true relationship with any of these people, only some, which were built out of hatred and dread. But with such a force of adrenaline pumping itself through each of their hearts, the air enveloping each prisoner felt like that of a team. A terrible team but one which held a similar goal, a goal they all needed to contribute to.


With such a thought rushing through Rustys dazed mind, in a sudden action she did an abrupt one eighty and faced her cell mate and took hold of Mayumis wrist and with what power she found necessary dragged her out of their cage the law had chained them to.


The first step to freedom.


Interacted With: @Karma200


Mentioned: @Tree

 

[Karma200]

Mayumi Advally

Prision
​

Thinking about the men who had tried to get at her, they'd looked down on her strength just because she was a woman and that had ended badly. The moment one of them even dared to touch her let alone get in her personal bubble, Mayumi had been beaten by the guards later each time but each time she fought Mayumi felt pride within herself. Even within these walls she was a warrior at heart, it felt good that she was not easily broken like her people had been. Being in the prison was possibly her last adventure but man, this was probably the worst one she'd ever experienced. Mayumi preferred walking around through the wild and surviving off of her own ability, walking through nature as if she truly belonged there. That's what it always felt like. Though it was most definitely hard with the wild animals that were around, especially the predators. Mayumi tended to avoid places with the signs of dangerous creatures but there were times when she had to face it head on. Which is how she obtained a scar that lay on her left hip, ankle and the front of her right shoulder. Now that was what she called an adventure. One that you could survive from, it was obvious this was one she would live in and die in. When Rusty began to talk Mayumi realized she'd forgotten to answer, how rude.


"Chika I don-,"


Shouts interrupted the Rusty's sentence and Mayumi hurried to sit up straight, standing up and following Rusty over to the bars. May leaned against them and ignored the chill from how cold they were against her arms. What was going on? Something big must've happened and it was obviously making the other prisoners happy. A young male with milk chocolate brown hair and brown eyes came and unlocked their cell gates. Surprise and shock formed within Mayumi as she tried to gather what was happening. An escape? Excitement pierced May as the need to fight rose higher and higher. Freedom, it stood right at the tips of her fingers and there was no way she wasn't going to grab it and hold it close to her chest.


"Let's go Chika," Rusty spoke and continued, looking over at her "I'll try my best to not let any men mess up that pretty face of yours."


Mayumi wanted to tell Rusty that she could fight but thought it better to just keep silent as Rusty grabbed hold of May's wrist and pulled her along, outside of cell. May followed after her cellmate and watched as everyone fought. It amazed Mayumi, she'd never seen people fight together, how they could have so much confidence this wouldn't all backfire and they'd each possibly be executed. Warriors. Whether they could fight or not Mayumi could practically feel the soul of a warrior within each and every person who fought for what they wanted. For their freedom. Her people weren't fighters. They'd given up and allowed their will and dreams to wither away with the new rising power of the King. No. Not a King. A tyrant who ruled the Kingdom with power he lost the right to call his own.


"I'll put the life of my pretty face in your hands then," Mayumi spoke as she kept close to Rusty, constantly looking behind them to make sure no one tried to attack.


Interacted with: @HighnessesReign (I apologize for not responding, I only got the notifications for the three posts after yours while I waited for a few more to post before I did)


Mentioned: @Tree

 

[Shura]

Aisha

The usual sounds of the prison cells echoed about as a normal day passed... well normal for prison. Aisha tended to ignore the rest of the world and meditate or converse with Jerom to pass the time. The addition of someone new meant hopefully thing would be less boring. However due to this mentality she missed most of what transpired outside of the cell. The silver haired teen nodded slightly at the boys reply about his arm and smiled slightly. "Ah well... I'm good with pressure points and blocking pain so if you need the assistance let me know." She offered with a warm smile. She couldn't help but want to help those that were younger than her and going through this. While she didn't exactly have a normal childhood it was one relatively happy and worry free. These two boy's didn't have such a luxury.


Commotion outside differ from the norm caught Aishas attention as she watched Otto unlock the cells with a set of keys he had magically attained. She wasn't sure how he had done so however it mattered little. Now there was a choice. Stay in the cell and wait for everything to settle or got out, join the fight and hopefully escape. Gnawing on her bottom lip she observed as the day room went from empty to full of fighting guards and prisoners. Her amber gaze shifted towards Christoph as he announced his intentions and she frowned slightly watching as the young boy hurried off before glancing to Jerom, who looked absolutely terrified. Then again he was only 11 and going through all this. Nodding slightly more to herself than one else she confirmed in her mind her mission to atleast make sure these two boys got to safety.


With a warm smile Aisha extended her hand to the boy. "Come on, if we linger too long we'll just get caught again." She said before leading the way out of the cell and carefully navigated a similar path to the other boy. She saw one guard charging at them out of the corner of her eye and released Jeroms hand. Shifting directions to face the guard charged at him with no hesitation, as much as she valued life the guards in this prison were doing nothing but tormenting other. The guard raised his club to try and swipe at the girls head. Aisha easily ducked the horizontal strike by sliding into a very low stance. As she kept some forward momentum and swung her arm catching the mans leg and pulled it up and behind the guard. The sudden shift in weight threw off the mans balance causing him to land face first into the ground with all, possibly, 200 plus pounds. She hurried back to Jerom and met up with Christoph as he peeked around the corner.


"I have a feeling any weapons aside form the one the guards are using have wither been destroyed or possibly kept somewhere else for situations like this..." She warned softly.


@DamagedGlasses @Mad Prince of Sanity

 

[Flawless]

Tyshiro Lascar


Prison... For now.


"Pfft. The guards were being complete assholes at the gate into a larger town," Shiro sighed, "Which I never managed to even catch the name of. So naturally I felt an urgent desire to show them a bit of.. 'Etiquette'. I guess you can imagine what happened next."


Piper's hesitation and rather unprepared expression, however fleeting, didn't pass Shiro completely by. Neither did her quick glance to the floor after finishing her tale. Yet, Shiro said nothing about it and just told her story. But she came to a quick conclusion, and that was that this 'Piper Alyss' wasn't all that she seemed.


As she finished speaking, Shiro tried to subconsciously block out the sounds of some poor soul getting beaten with a blunt object in a cell not too far from theirs. A frown creased her forehead, staring intently at the floor, and she began to chew her lip. Her fingers moved slightly without her realising, imitating the action of rolling a large coin across her knuckles, a habit that she developed for no particular reason. But she had no such coin, so she was stuck with simply imitating the action.


It was followed by awful crashing, probably the sounds of someone picking a fight with a cell door. That was certainly harder to zone out from. She was about to get up and go to the cell door to shout some form of abuse at the person causing the racket, but it ended before she had a chance. Either way, she got up and walked over to the cell door and back, stretching herself out.


She whipped around instinctively as she heard keys in the lock.


And that feeling of pure excitement when she suddenly realised that he wasn't a guard.


She stared for a second, almost unable to believe it.


"Are you coming? This may be the only shot we get at freedom..." she heard Piper say. She glanced at the other woman incredulously.


"Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I'm coming! Why the heck would I want to stay here?!"


She practically shot out of the cell behind Piper, quickly overtaking her as she ran like the devil, her coral-coloured hair streaming out behind her like a bright banner. She was never going back in that cell, like it or not. Tyshiro skidded to a halt just behind the majority of the crowds, catching the words of the guy that had let them out. He sounded like a born leader; and somehow, he looked familiar. But how? Was he there on Tyr? The name Otto sprang to mind, the leader of FREE. Surely not.. She hoped that he wasn't that Otto, she truly did. The Otto that had helped to play a hand in the destruction of everything she had come to love again. Anger flared at the very thought of FREE's final stand on Tyr, her hand slowly curling into a fist.


Yet she would have to save that for later, if Shiro even saw him again, as the fighting and mayhem was beginning to break out.


She turned and ducked just in time to avoid being punched right in the face, only alerted by the sudden footsteps behind her. The guard stumbled forward a small step, finding no resistance, but that was all she needed. She drove a fist upwards into his gut (hell did it feel good), and as he doubled over, grabbed his head and brought it down to meet with her knee. But it turned out that, luckily for him, he had a thick skull; instead of being knocked out straight away as she had intended, he managed to catch himself. But she promptly tackled him to the ground, and successfully pinning him to the stone, began raining blow after blow down on his face. After only a short while he passed out, her fists already bloody from it. She rose, shaking out her hands, a few droplets of blood scattering to the floor as she stepped over him. All she had to do was focus on making it out of here alive, but taking as many guards out as possible would certainly be fun.


Mentioned/Interacted with: @Hales


@Tree

 

[Alsmen]

Auvan Kyvean


Prison


Auvan initially ignored Marcus's addition to the conversation, but he eventually dismissed his entry with a simple. "That's good to know." He then moved to the wall opposite of the cell bars and consequently Marcus. He then sat with his back to the wall with his knees up and proceeded to think.


Marcus Soltanus. The name resounded in Kyvean's mind, but he had no major recollection of it only bits and pieces, scattered to the winds of mysteries and dilemmas. Marcus Soltanus. It came again, this time lingering like a bad cold. Soltanus. It had finally come to Auvan. Most of the situation that was formerly hazed to him became gradually more clear with every discovery. This was no mere jail, not a prison. This was nothing he could have expected. Auvan readily combed his mind, picking through information and recollections from former conversations. Auvan combed ever deeper into his mind. Eventually It shifted to the image that he saw earlier, but he was interrupted by the same such conduct. 'Fuck me? I'M THE ONE IN CHARGE. FUCK YOU.' Auvan could sense that tension was high, and something had to break. After a bit more commotion, it had seemed that the chubby guard had received his reward for all of his hard work. Auvan let out a bit of a nasal sigh at the sight of the chubby guard's "supremacy" over Otto. 'You’re going to rot here you piece of -Poop. You piece of fucking poop.' Naive and corrupt. Would make a good mark. Auvan thought with the words already in place if the guard ever came to approach him.


Auvan then noticed the sudden thinning of the guard population, and then the spontaneous appearance of a woman, Lysandra, but only barely as Marcus stood before the bars, partially obscuring the view. Despite this, he heard the conversation that they had, and began to wonder where the chubby Kyle Yi had gone off to. Nonetheless, Auvan did not have to wait long for something more energetic to happen. The boy, Otto was unlocking the cell doors, and guards were beginning to flood back in, and at an alarming rate. 'Do you want your freedom?' The question rung in Auvan's head. 'THEN FIGHT FOR IT' It continued to ring. Nah, I'm good. I'll just sit at my cell wall and such. Auvan thought as a surely epic riot ensued.


Honorable Mention: @Tree


Interactions: @WritingMan


RIP: Kyle Yi - Rest in pieces. Two importunate pieces.

 

[DamagedGlasses]

Jerom J.

​

A normal day in prison consisted of a lot of things that Jerom had usually not had not deal with. Most of these things consisted of what you would expect, such as, the lower class food, lack of things to do, and oh, the chance that anybody around you could be homicidal? Prison was something usually never came up in stories when he was younger, before he father had died. Usually it was about fishing or something of the sort, and while it was not actively talked about in his house, it was commonly told in the groups of children that ran about the town. They would huddle together and speak of the horrific deeds of those who had been locked up in the King's Royal Prison. Needless to say, Jerom was kind of on edge during his first days, and only the talks with Aisha had calmed him down. Now, however, it seemed even this life was changing


quicker than he imagined! As the man unlocked their door, continuing onward towards the rest of the unreleased captives, Jerom hurt the crashes and curses of fighting, and while he was scared of what was happening, the stimuli of what was happening, he bit it back, not letting the moment control him.


When the hand of Aisha went to his face, and her words were heard, Jerom realized that this wasn't just a moment that came around every once and a while. It was his only chance to escape this place! Placing his hand into the soothing pit of Aisha's own, Jerom said with confidence,"Don't worry miss, I'll be sure to protect you from behind!" With the words of courage, he followed her closely as she escaped the cell and whisked out of the door, following the path that Christoph had set for them. Jerom was almost numbed by the fighting going on, seeing what his mother had dreamed of coming to life, but was dragged from the fantasy by the release of his hands. Looking towards Aisha inquisitively, he was struck with a sickle of worry as the man came running at her. Rushing forward, Jerom tried to make to get to her before the collision, but with assured movements that spoke of her confidence in her own ability to do harm, Aisha swooped down and dodged the man's dashed attack, grabbing his leg and ending any further response from the man. As she quickly moved on, Jerom followed suit, but took the time to smash his leg into the downed man's head, feeling better.


Running up to hear the conversation struck up between Christoph and Aisha about the need for weapons, Jerom couldn't help, but feel excited and out of his league at the same time. The idea of being able to protect himself brought angels singing, but the thought of wielding such a thing made him uneasy. The deadliest thing he had ever wielded was a small Harpoon that his father had shown him how to use properly while he was still alive. However, his mother had also seen the advantages of weapons, and he could not argue with the logic that he had seen first hand. Piping up, Jerom spoke, "I think taking the weapons is a great idea! Lets round up a couple of the swords and fight back!" Jerom smiled as he could feel the intoxicating effects of getting closer and closer to freedom drove away the fear of consequences.


@Shura @Mad Prince of Sanity

 

[Der Kojote]

Grigori Ivanov


Location: PRISON

​

Grigori stared in amazement and horror as the young girl went on and on with her story. There was not a pause, not a breath, not anything but continuous vocalization. How someone that small spoke that fast on one single breath was insanity. The story was not a good one though that was for sure, from what he could tell was that some guys were doing something that would land them in jail. Or alternatively being beaten senseless by the village council, and the parents of the party that was assulted. Northern Xaran Justice was painful when it came to crimes like that. However, the odd thing was that they ran away? maybe they heard someone coming? He didn't know. However he finally saw her finish her story. Or at least he guessed she was done. She had stopped to breath again.


He nodded at her with the plainest face he could muster. "Umm...alright...yes that...would be weird. However that was probably becasue they got sent somewhere...or moved to a different school." He looked at the young girl No sign of purple... so she hasn't been without oxygen for any noticeable time period. Not sure how that works out...but I'm not going to ask, She might tell a longer story. That might kill her, or she might set a new record for longest time without breathing. He rested against the wall, "Ehh, ahh well, kid like you couldn't have done much to incur the wrath of the authorities...or at least nothing major, it's rather terrible they'd through someone as young as you in here. Probably a scared straight thing? that's what it's called? You'll Probably be out before tommo-"





He did not get to finish the rest of that statement, as he was about to the cell door opened, "Huh, parole?" He peered out the door, to see every cell open. Already guards were pouring in. He heard a call from someone “Do you want your freedom? THEN FIGHT FOR IT" Grigori nodded, "And my patience is rewarded. Didn't have to wait too long..." He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. Turning to the girl he said "Little one, I'm going to leave to treat these guards with the same respect they have done with us. I cannot have them abusing others. I will do as a Xaran would do." He slammed his fist into his open palm and grunted, "Fight like a raging bear. Stay close and I will keep you safe."





@The Kaosophile

 

[Penelope Burns]

Sinda


A Prison Riot in Lysia


Sinda watched the bruised, bloody man open their cell without a word, obviously occupied with freeing as many prisoners as possible. She didn't bother him with pointless questions. He was giving them a chance to escape with their lives intact, though probably wanted to recruit them into his forces as 'payment'. She wouldn't listen, of course. All she wanted was her ship and her crew, joining some suicidal rebel coalition was not in her plans.


Once the cell doors were open she shot out like a bullet, ignoring her cellmate as she ran toward the exit, the need for freedom washing over her. It only took her a moment to realize how horrible a mistake she made as guard after guard ran into the block, mostly armed with batons. Immediately she turned and walked back to her cell, thinking of some way she could escape the situation.


Back in her cell, Sinda noticed that her cellmate had her arms and legs still chained, not given the freedom most other prisoners had. She had to assume that the woman was difficult to beat in a fight, and they had to plan accordingly. That, or the woman was some sort of insane cannibal, but she didn't have any sort of gag on her to give the impression that she was that crazy.


"The guards are about to start beating the shit out of us. Since he didn't do anything about those," Sinda motioned to the chains on the woman's arms and legs, "We're forced into two choices: You fight while chained or I get the keys from him as he's getting himself killed." Regardless, their options were shitty. Sinda wasn't some all powerful soldier, she could hold her own but she was by no means very good in a fight.


Mentioned: @Tree


Cellmate: @Kharmin

 

[Kharmin]

Danica Blaire - Lysia – Prison


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/57a8c1ac26dd1_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.bfc2bf32251da8f7ed2030889160d418.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="43747" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/57a8c1ac26dd1_Danica_HorizFlip_30.jpg.bfc2bf32251da8f7ed2030889160d418.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> The sudden uproar outside of their cell jarred Danica's focus to the present. Something was going on. Chains rattled and settled into her lap as she sat up and looked toward the door which suddenly was unlocked and tossed open.


From her seated position, Danica could see many of the prisoners free of their cells engaging the guards who had appeared to have been surprised. In her six years of imprisonment, Danica had heard tell of a few escape attempts, but nothing on the scale of the mass chaos that now thrashed wildly about in the day room.


When her cell mate sprinted from the room, Danica stood and shuffled toward the door of the cell as quickly as her hobbled ankles would allow. From this new vantage point, she heard the rebellious cries and watched as the flood of prisoners washed over and through the incoming tide of guards. For a moment, the initiative seemed lost as her cell mate quickly returned and stood nearby. Danica's gaze followed her cell mate's to the chains that still bound her. Danica looked up, her eyes glazed over as if unfocused as she summoned the Fury within.


It's out of necessity, she told herself, and desperately held on to what little control of the passionate flames of raw anger that tested its will against hers. Sadly, Danica admitted that she needed the fury's strength if only for a brief moment. Danica's arms tensed and her muscles, toned from years of work with her sword during the resistance, became pronounced and well defined as she gritted her teeth and pulled against the chains that connected her wrists.


A low, animalistic growl edged its way from between her clenched jaw as Danica tapped lightly into the beast within. With strength as yet unseen by most in the prison, the chain pulled taut and a small crack along the weakest link appeared. Suddenly, with a snap, the link ruptured and as her arms pulled free of the tie that bound them, Danica's growl became a roar. With the fury's strength now fully embraced, she reached down and grabbed the length of chain that shackled her ankles. Another growl and pull easily separated the chain.


Freed now from her bindings, Danica ignored the person who stood nearby and she exited the confining space of the cell. Eyes still unseeing, she waded forward with calm resolve. The first unfortunate guard who approached was met with the loose end of the chain that still dangled from Danica's wrist as she slammed it across the man's head. His skull shattered under the impact, killing him before he hit the floor.


A small spark of herself fought with all of its effort to regain control of her berserk state. Even though many of these guards had mistreated prisoners, Danica didn't necessarily believe that they should pay for their sins with their very lives. They had no idea of what they were now dealing since Danica had become this embodiment of un-slaked anger.


Another guard, wary after seeing what had happened to the first to confront Danica, stopped a pace back, just out of range of the chain that swayed lazily from Danica's wrist. He held his baton in defense of the weapon, thinking to block it, but in her current state, Danica had no such strategies. Her lust of fury would only be satisfied with his death. Slowly, her head turned toward him and saw only a person with a weapon in his hand.


Danica's anger and strength exceeded the poor guard's expectations as she simply leaped at him and bore him to the ground. Relentlessly, he flailed his baton against Danica, her head, neck, wherever he could, but she ignored his blows as if they were mere insect bites. Her hands clasped around the guard's throat and squeezed until the bone crunching sound of his broken neck killed him.


Danica stood, and with a roar, grasped the corpse and flung it in the general direction of the largest mass of the melée, uncaring on whom or what it landed. As she turned, she again tried to regain control and suppress the rage that had taken over. Several other guards had noticed her and, from a safer distance, pointed while shouting something that fell on her fury-deafened ears.


She approached them with patient, measured steps. Fury knew no quarter and anticipated their deaths with the pure excitement of a child at Christmas. They tossed various objects at her which either bounced off and were ignored or barely impeded her steady progress. Then, as one, the three guards fell upon her.


Danica swung, but the first guard ducked the lashing iron chain and jammed his baton into her midsection. A second guard timed the chain, stepped in and struck her solidly across the temple. The third sunk down and attempted to vault into Danica and bring her to the ground. In her state, none of the blows registered other than to give her the knowledge that someone had struck her, which only served to fuel her rage. Unprepared for the collective assault, Danica was hurled to the ground as the three guards pounced and attempted to restrain her.


Her increased strength was no match for them. She pulled her hands free, and twisted the head of the one who had tackled her, easily snapping his neck. Then, she back handed the guard that tried to pin her right shoulder to the concrete floor, the impact of which knocked him back several feet where he landed on his side. Before the one on her left could react, Danica gripped him with both hands and hurled him into the one that had just been back handed. They landed in a heap as she shoved the dead guard off of her and rose to one knee.


Glazed eyes stared at the two guards with pure, unadulterated hatred. Blood ran freely from her temple, down Danica's face and mixed with some drool that had begun to drain from the corner of her mouth where it plastered her loose hair to her cheek. Sensing their demise, the two guards scrambled away from each other and vaulted away from Danica.


With no threat nearby, Danica turned and surveyed the room. Inside, the battle continued to rage as her saner self fought to regain control. She prayed that no one else came near to provoke her berserk state any further, knowing that a few moments respite would be all that she would need to get a handle on things. Her head turned and she saw a young man deep in the fray whose voice cut through the fog of the fury that raged. Danica recognized it as the voice that had incited the riot and knew that if she were to have any chance at all for freedom, then Fury would need to reign in her just a little longer.


Slowly, Danica stood and began to trudge toward the cluster around Otto.


@LotusSan : Cellmate


@Tree : Mentioned

 

[GeneralZod]

Aidin Stephan Goldman


When the jail cell was opened Aidin had stood up as quickly as he could and ran out the door. He looked around quickly and saw that guards were piling up fast and two of them had already gotten close to their cell. "I am not going back in!" Aidin said as he threw the baton at one of the guards whose reflexes were worse than a dead cat as he was hit directly in the face. Aidin ran forward and picked up the stunned guard by the neck and slammed him into the other one before slamming him into the hard wall to the other side and letting him drop to the floor. He spat on the man that was clearly a bit dazed from the entire experience and looked to the person that had set them free. Looking back to Otto he eyed him suspiciously but did as he was told anyway, it would take some serious teamwork to get out of the jail and hopefully the other prisoners were going to listen. "Otto, prove to me that I can trust you further than I can throw you." Aidin smirked a bit as he moved towards the area's entrance as he could see a few more guards coming in his direction. "Come on!" Aidin screamed exicted to finally be fighting for once. "I'll make you regret throwing me in here!"


Two more guards came closer to Aidin as he ran forward and smashed his right shoulder into the first guard knocking him onto his feet. The other guard was much more experienced though as he managed to block Aidin's first punch of the day, Sadly though he didn't see the kick to the groin coming full force as the man was hit hard enough that he had actually fell to the ground and vomited. Aidin laughed at the man on the floor. "Wimp." The next guard had found his footing again as he tried to hit Aidin with the baton. Aidin grabbed the unfortunately slow man's wrist and quickly twisted his arm further than the human arm was not meant to go but lucky for him he was resillent enough to get a good punch off to Aidin's chest as he had the wind knocked out of him for a few moments. Once both of them finally recovered Aidin smiled. "Now we're on equal ground." Aidin threw a punch aimed directly at the man's face who attmpted to block the shot. Although Aidin did not follow through with the punch as the guard expected and dropped to the ground and swiped with his left leg causing the guard to once again drop to the floor. "Nice try." Aidin said as he stomped on top of the man's chest hearing a few ribs break. Then Aidin felt a light punch in the back of the head from the guard that he failed to actually hit. He turned around and immediately ducked to avoid any further shots as next decision was a bit unreasonable. Aidin managed to punch him in the kneecap with his brute force as he fell to the ground unable to stand up. Aidin jumped onto the man's body and began to violently punch him in the face repeatedly. The first broke his nose, the second knocked out a few teeth, the third blooded his nose even more, the fourth knocked the back of his skull onto the hard ground as he passed out. Aidin stood up and wiped his fist on the leg of his pants cleaning off some of the blood. He turned back around as he kept going to towards the entrance like Otto told him to.


@Tree


@Demensia (since your character would have seen that)

 

[HighnessesReign]

Rusty Knayls


Prison


Victorious. A word handed to those which have won in any given scenario may it be an arugument, a fight, or a war between two opposing sides. Once considered to be victorious, you are the champion, the winner, the true victor. As those who may had been foolish to stand to the victor instead laid at their feet, only allowing those who witnessed the incident to truly catch sight of the difference between the two, to see the contrast between the twos power and will by their new height difference. A victim as much as the other is a victor.


As the winner may grasp an award of varying shapes, the loser instead grabs at the dirt which scuffed up their boots during their earlier battle. They hold only fragments of what had happened and what outcome may have occurred if they had performed a certain task in a different way.


Those who fall can decide though, whether they'll fall forward or backwards. Even when those who failed may fall on their face it can still be noted that they're moving forward, moving on down their given path. A path built upon a ledge of constant obstacles. Walls and trenches that a person can decide to either move away from or pass through.


And so as Rusty glanced downwards with a narrowed gaze to find those who had fallen during their intensifying riot. She held no remorse for those who were visibly awake but had chosen to remain on the ground. Their pride was as great as the concrete slabs they currently laid upon, they deserved no respect.


"Great," Rusty responded to Mayumi in a firm tone only returning the elegant womens stare for a moment before returning her attention towards the mayhem which continued to unfold before the two. Though it wouldn't be wise, within the patched girls chest instincts had begun to swirl within her with what determination had mustered itself inside her, the two urging her towards the large crowd of people, the amount of those still standing dismissing each given second she stood there uselessly.


Rusty then stepped forward with a single stride of pursuit, preparing herself to join what had shockingly formed only moments ago. When suddenly a guard with fairly broad shoulders began sprinting in hers and Mayumis direction, his black baton glinting within the prisons dull aged lights. The man was notably heading towards them fiercely, to which Patches eyes began racing a crossed the mans form subconsciously with a knowing gaze.


With what knowledge she held, which wasnt a large quantity, Rusty developed possible outcomes which may come from this mans approach and her own personal response. Those strong shoulders of the guard seemed fairly useful and powerful in a fight, perhaps he would...


And just as Rusty originally formulated the man tilted his right side downwards, his body in an uncomfortable position just as he reached within a foot of the two girls.


Rustys heart had grown in pace and fluttered within her chest anxiously, what logical sense within the women attempting to persuade the 90 percent of her body which held no interest in its tactics. When the man was about to make contact with Rusty in a solid fluid motion the women released Mayumis wrist and wrapped the same arm arounnd the girls side protectively, with surpassingly delicate motions. Just as she tugged herself and Mayumi backwards, out of the mans planned route before raising her right leg and slamming the bottom of her combat boots into his lower back. The position of her heel digging itself into the mans lower spine with savage like ferocity.


"You doing alright Bonita?"(You doing alright Beauitful?) Rusty chimed up over the loudness of the crowd only slamming against one another a few feet ahead of them. A group of people Patches had planned to join only seconds ago but as scenarios had begun to cling to the exterior of her mind she gradually began to grown hesitant. As negatvities began to out play what positives she had thought up in past. A figure with a mane of purity passed by the women with overt tension.


With such a familiar trademark as the girls white hair Rusty found the once simply task of averting her vision away to be difficult. The girls hair as snow white as how her mothers had been, and for a moment the women thought she had just witnessed something paranormal, a fragment of what her mother had been. But as the image she had believed to be an illusion didn't falter Rusty realized just as many others would suspect the girl who held the hand of a young brunette, was indeed real. And more importantly seemingly trying to escape.


Rustys arm slowly slithered away from Mayumis waist and instead took hold of her childlike wrist once more.


"I think their trying to escape," Patches informed the other in a light tone despite their loud surroundings before she jogged over to the three with anticipation. Her canines knawing on the edge of her tongue habitually within her mouth, an iron taste warming her gums just as she came to a halt behind them.


"Hola, cómo estas?"(Hello, how are you?) Rusty then stated casually as though they were two groups meeting on the street rather then within the walls of a prison. "I think I speak for both myself and my friend here when I say I'm interested in where you're going." As the women spoke a mischevious grimace like grin had been formed by her chapped lips as she inspected the three before her with a devilish brow raised.


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

 

[Rifleman]

Cu Chulainn





Cu slowly watched as the guard kneel down next to him feeling his breath contaminate his skin. The man slowly got more and more enraged. However managing to keep his calm, he wasn't about to let his will break that easily. Only to hear shortly after. " I'm going to enjoy what I'm going to do to you. When we rip the rest of your tongue out...... Your bar is gone by the way, burned to ashes...... Rebel scum." The guard laughed as Cu lowered his head hesitantly again, trying not to lose hope in such a situation that he was hoping that the two would escape from.


In the eruption of the violence the guard stood up shaken by the noise of the riot taking place. Cu swiftly low kicked the guard causing him to fall, smashing his head on the ground knocking him unconscious. Cu slowly smiled as he looked over at Jett, nodding a few times before wiggling over on-top of him grabbing the keys embedded in the man's jacket, with his mouth before sitting back up and grabbing it behind him with his hands, slowly unlocking the cuffs. He slowly dusted himself off as he kicked the guard without hesitation then a laugh as he went to unlock Jett's cuffs.


Cu slowly looked around without question as the time was right for them to escape and get this vengeance thing going. He stood straight up as he looked towards Jett, with a sight laugh as he gave a gesture of after you to the man. Then looking down at the guard, spitting on him walking away with the last grunt.

 

[Karma200]

Mayumi Advally

Prision
​

Mayumi was impressed with Rusty's skills and enjoyed the experience on watching her fight the large man and the urge to jump in made her stiffen a bit but she held back. It was practically war, of course with far less blood but it was still an amazing sight. There were of course some who had fallen but many of them were the guards, May could see plenty of the prisoners enjoying this. It was the guards turn to be abused horribly. Karma was running around all over the room. Gladly following after Rusty, May could see two groups forming together and realized that Rusty was pulling her along toward one of them.


"You doing alright Bonita?"


"I'm alright,"


May learned to block out the strange words Rusty seemed to use often. She'd have to remind herself to later on ask Rusty what the hell she was saying. It was knowledge she felt she needed in order to understand the things Rusty was saying completely, ignoring it constantly wouldn't always work. In the village of her people there wasn't much that women were allowed to truly learn, they were caretakers while the men were the providers. It was something Mayumi believed was ridiculous, she had the skills of a warrior and wished that she could've been apart of the training the men did. Unfortunately she was only allowed to sit and watch, later on practicing them on her own when she went to go "berry picking".


"I think their trying to escape," Rusty spoke.


Escape where? The place was pretty much on lock down and Mayumi didn't really see a way to escape but that was quite possibly only because she'd never been able to explore the place, being a prisoner and all.


"Hola, cómo estas?" Ah, there goes more words that confused Mayumi undoubtedly "I think I speak for both myself and my friend here when I say I'm interested in where you're going." Following Rusty around was a better idea then going alone or going to the other group of people she didn't know. If the two of them needed to, they could work together and even though they've been cellmates for a bit without talking, it would be easier to trust Rusty then the other prisoners. Whom she has not met. For a moment Mayumi couldn't help but feel a bit antsy with the feeling of finally being able to get out. To be able to breathe in the fresh air and walk around without chains or itchy clothes. Being in the prison taught Mayumi that being stuck in a limited area didn't sit well with her. Her body was a bit sore from the hard bed and bruised from the rough handling of the guards. Soon... soon she wouldn't have to worry about that.


Interacted with: @HighnessesReign

 

[Hales]

Piper Alyss


Piper glanced around, eagerly holding the weapon she'd won as she did so. Shiro had vanished as soon as she'd been able to escape the cell; as Piper's eyes scanned the intensity of the battle, she thought she caught a glimpse of her former cellmate's distinctive red hair, but she really wasn't sure if that was even her. Upon a glance behind her, Piper saw a young man - boy maybe? - peering around the corner to the door. She didn't know where it led and she was willing to bet he didn't either, but the door was closed - probably locked. Prisons didn't just leave random doors unattended especially when they were well aware of the riot ensuing by now. He was quickly joined by two companions - one a woman and the other a boy; this time she knew boy was the right word to describe him. Their grouping in the back corner seemed to have gone quite unnoticed by the guards who were more occupied fighting those who had run straight into the fight - no doubt those prisoners were the truly strong ones.


For a moment Piper thought to go join them - the three in the corner - for sneaking definitely sounded better than fighting through so many more guards.


The thought couldn't last though. Piper felt the hands of a guard grabbing her from behind. Damn it! she thought, knowing she'd let herself get distracted for too long. Of course, now that she held a weapon - no matter how pathetic she deemed it - the guards would target her. The guard's hand forced her body to spin and as her head swung to see her attacker, she was met with a fist square in the face. Piper, knowing she'd been caught unprepared, did the one thing she could think of; she dropped her body completely to the ground, and she hit it hard. Unable to even take time to wince at the pain, Piper swung out with her baton at his ankles, sweeping his feet out from underneath him and bringing him to the floor with her.


They were grappling - rolling around on the floor like wildlings - and Piper just kept swinging. She could feel his fists landing blows against her as they rolled across the ground. The sound of feet nearly hitting her head terrified her, but she didn't stop swinging her fists, hoping desperately that she would be able to land a decisive blow in some way. Piper felt a crevice in the floor and she dug her foot into it as they spun over it. Her ankle twisted and she screamed at the pain of it, but it had succeeded. They had stopped rolling and she was on top. Her eyes, filled with pain, met those of the guard as she started barreling punches at his face. Time seemed to stop. Piper could see the blood running down his face and yet she didn't hold back her punches. The baton, still in her left hand, served to harden her fist making the blows all the more deadly. In the end, she didn't win because of strength; rather, the sheer number of blows she dealt him was what did it.


Finally, Piper stopped. Her knuckles bled something fierce and she didn't know if the blood was hers or the guards. At this point, it didn't really matter. She looked around once again to see where her wrestling match had brought her. Piper wasn't near her cell anymore; she was right in the middle of everything. No one had seemed to take notice of her yet which she was grateful for, but Piper knew better than to expect that to last. She tried to get to her feet and her ankle gave out beneath her own weight. Piper grimaced, trying to hold in her agony, but a small whimper did escape her lips. She tried again - this time placing a majority of her weight on the the ankle she hadn't twisted - and she managed to maintain her balance.


Mentioned: @Flawless @Mad Prince of Sanity @DamagedGlasses @Shura

 

[SkyGinge]

Keziah Swann and 'Mags'


Outside the Lysian Prision
​

Pacing across the fields, Keziah tried to ignored the winds fingers as they toyed with her dark, black hair. Such an experience was rare for her, as normally her mask protected her from nature's bashfulness. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. Some people seemed to enjoy the feeling of the breeze on their flesh. It reminded Keziah far too much of her dark days.


They'd parked their car several miles back, off-road in the middle of a clearing. They'd have garnered suspician had they simply drove up to the prison. Now the pair of them, lone travellors in bleak forests of Lysian, were approaching their destination. She lead the way, as always. A shoddy, run-down looking building, dully illuminated by the wispy afternoon sunshine. Elemental-God-King their ruler might have been, but he had a terrible eye for architecture; the prison was as visually appealing as a bowl of vomit. This was most definitely ancient.


"Nippy tonight, ain't it?" Her hunched, rugged companion flashed a toothless grin. Mags was one of the only people to regularly see her maskless visage. Some might have hailed him lucky, but the only reason she allowed it was because he didn't seem to care. He'd struggled with it when they'd first met; his gaze had fluctuated like an ecstatic rodent. But time crafts and moulds the minds of men, and soon he'd learnt to control himself. An accalade few could be proud of.


She felt no need to reply to him. It was a rhetorical statement. It meant nothing; its only purpose was to fill the silence. Mags liked to speak to himself. She didn't blame him; she hardly gave him any substantial conversation.


They neared the prison at a steady pace (steady, of course, because lugging all of his weaponry about, 'steady' was about as much as Mags could manage.) The merchant ran his eyes across the building. He's excited, Keziah noted, It's not very often he goes out in the field himself. He's like the kid who's practiced with a wooden staff graduating to see a fully-fledged fencing match. The merchant chuckled under his breath, confirming her observation.


An audiable din irradiated from inside the structure, and the pair stopped still in their tracks. Fighting. By the volume of noise, it sounded like a big conflict. Looks like they might have got out before we were even needed. The serenade of roars and cries sent tingles up her spine, and she felt her grip on her Twaranni Blade tighten. Not from excitement though, or at least that's what she tried to convince herself.


"Blimey," the merchant mumbled to himself, "sounds like the Devil's stomach rumbling." Where do you pull these analogies from? Keziah frowned to herself. Mags spat on the dry grass. "If our little friend get's 'emselves' deaded 'fore we's even got in, I'm gonna shoot somethin' 'til it's murdered to death." His hands had disappeared inside his cloak, and Keziah knew he'd be toying with firearms of some description. Sighing loudly to himself, he began to trot off towards the building. "Come on then! Let's get this over an' done with!"


Stealth was the name of their plan. It usually was. Mags wasn't particularly inconspicious, but really, it didn't matter too much if they got caught, now that the entire prison was awash was chaos. Keziah took the lead once more, running through her ruitine plan of action for over the hundredth time. Carefully, she slotted her midnight-black helmet back over her head, completing her shadowy costume. It was fitting that many of the vagabonds she ended saw darkness as their last image.


Don't get distracted, she reminder herself, breaking into a controlled sprint, we've a job at hand.


@Nobody in particular... (lonely... I am so lonely... ;.

 

[WritingMan]

Marcus had been waiting, observing the two men before him to make sure there wasn't any moves they were about to make. He really had expected one of the to make a move. The simple and calm, "That's good to know," surprised him. Perhaps Marcus wasn't as well known as he thought. While Marcus had been expecting to say more, the response seemed to be a natural close to their short and brief conversation.


He was about to move back to his bunk when there was a loud commotion coming from the other side of the prison. It seemed that one of the guards was "having his way" with one of the prisoners, an adolescent boy. And then there was the woman. Marcus could see clear as day the military uniform and insignia she was wearing, but was unable to see who she was. Granted, Marcus might not know her at all, but there was a chance. And odds are, she would know who he was. A military officer though? What was she doing here? Marcus looked down at the ground in thought for a moment, trying to piece together what he was seeing.


When Marcus looked up, the next thing he saw was the military officer and the guard gone. The boy was getting out of his cage, unlocking the cell doors. Guards were already beginning to pour from their side of the building at an increasingly fast rate, armed with batons. As the boy made a call to arms to rally the prisoners to fight, Marcus found himself more amused than anything by the call to arms. The boy, in his mind, hadn't come across very strong at all. On others, though, it seemed the boy's cry had worked. Others began to merge from their cells, yelling and running towards the guards who were trying to quickly assemble a formation to block the way to the entrance. Within seconds, a full-scale riot had broken out.


And yet, Marcus was not one of those who removed himself from his cell. Why would he? He wanted, no he deserved, every single punishment the God King was going to give him. Attempting to escape would only be placing more judgement upon his soul. How many more people, good people, must die before he does? Surely he deserved to die first.


It was then that Rosalina returned. Marcus' mind drifted for a moment, as the cries and sounds of fighting began to fade away. He was on the beach, reclining in his chair watching the slow waves hit the sandy shore as the yellow ball began to dip below the horizon, sending forth a fantastic shade of orange that took his breath away. This was his moment. He and Rosalina had come here together, many years of ago, on vacation. To Marcus, it was one of the last times they were really happy together. And looking to his right, there Rosalina was, sunbathing in a two piece and taking a drink from a cold lemonade. "So you're going to just stay there?" Rosalina inquired, her voice hinting her at her disapproval in his decision.


"Yes that's the-" Marcus began to reply, before being cut-off mid sentence by Rosalina.


"Did you ever stop to consider, just once, our son? Our son, who right now, is out there in the world, with no mother and no father? All your talk of wanting to be a better father, and look at where our son is now. If he isn't dead yet, he soon will be."


Marcus looked at her, his brain trying to process what she was saying. She was right, as she always was. He hadn't considered his son at all.Where was his son? His son wasn't there at the house when Marcus was arrested. Marcus just assumed that he had been somewhere else and upon hearing the news would have made a run for it. And perhaps he had. But at the same time, it was also possible he had been captured and arrested, the same as Marcus. And that, right now, he was sitting in some prison rotting away. It was just another reason he deserved to stay here, another punishment to add to his list of sins.


"No, you don't deserve to stay here," Rosalina said softly. "This prison will not be your end. Fate has more planned for you."


"So you're saying-" Marcus started, about to spell out his thoughts to Rosalina when she interrupted him yet again.


"Yes! Now go!" Rosalina yelled.


Marcus' mind was suddenly launched from that warm beach, tumbling back and back down to prison. He looked at his immediate surroundings, surprised to see that he had walked out of his cell. While he still was struggling with what Rosalina had been saying, it seemed clear that she - and fate - wanted him to leave this place. Perhaps it wasn't Rosalina at all, though. What if that he been fate itself communicating to him? While intriguing, he would have time to dwell on that thought later. For now, death, for whatever reason, seemed to have been deemed not ready for him yet. So Marcus would go, until it was time for his eternal damnation, until fate at last said his time was up. And to go, that meant he needed to escape from this prison.


Looking around, Marcus quickly analyzed the current situation. The main fighting group of prisoners seemed to be making little headway against the assembled guards who were closet to the immediate exit. It didn't look like they were going to break through any time soon. And it wouldn't be long now until other reinforcements came pouring in to crush this riot. So, if the entrance was out of the question, it meant that he would need to find a secondary exit. One that wouldn't have a platoon of guards between him and freedom.


Marcus, it seemed, wasn't the only one who had the same thought. He spotted a group along the edge of the area, seemingly managing to avoid the guards' ire. They looked young, younger than Marcus would have liked, but it seemed that they were at least thinking intelligently. Yet, it seemed that none of them had noticed the two guards who had managed to break away from the main fighting force sneaking along the area's walls, and were hungirly making their way towards the huddled group, perhaps seeing them as easy prey.


In reaction, Marcus began to run across the room towards the guards approaching the huddled group. From his angle, the guards wouldn't see him until he was right on top of them. The guards were getting closer and closer to the group, and they still hadn't spotted them. Marcus wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of taking on two people at once, but he didn't have a lot of options. Coming right up to the guards, they finally noticed him approaching from the corner of their vision, but it was too late. Already with full momentum, Marcus launched himself into the air, colliding directly with the first guard who in turn fell backwards into the second guard. The speed of the hit sent them flying back, fast.


While Marcus landed on top of the first guard, who was leaning on the ground on top of the second guard, he heard a sickening thud as the second guard's head smashed against the wall. The first guard didn't even have a chance to respond. Marcus had his body pinned, and quickly delivered two good punches directly to the man's face, knocking him unconscious. Rising to his feet, Marcus saw blood on the wall, the other guard's head having busted open from the force of the hit. If the man wasn't dead yet, he soon would be. How many more innocents must I kill? The guard, though, wasn't exactly innocent. But that still didn't mean that Marcus wanted to loosen the significance of the man's death. He quickly grabbed the two batons that guards had been carrying, feeling the two weapons in his hands. While not the ideal weaponry, they would at least do for now.


Marcus approached the group, seeing how young the kids were. He almost turned and walked away, thinking that there might be a better chance to escape elsewhere. That, though, would require to him abandon these kids. And while they looked like they could slightly hold themselves, they were only just kids. Whatever they had done, whatever crimes they had committed, they didn't deserve to be in a place like this. Perhaps this is what fate had in mind for him, to help these kids escape from the prison. He walked up in time to hear the youngest pip up about taking weapons from the guards. Oh, they really would need his help.


"Fighting will only end one way," Marcus said loudly, inserting himself into the conversation without so much as an introduction. "with you back in a prison cell. It won't be long now until reinforcements arrive and crush this riot. I intend to be long gone before that happens."


Mentioned: @Alsmen @Lord Jaraxxus


Interacted with: @Shura @DamagedGlasses @Mad Prince of Sanity