orpheus.
.𝐁𝐞/ＹＯＵ.
DISTANCE
© reveriee
-
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Futuristic the institute
- Thread starter Walliver
- Start date
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Somewhere...
She hadn't expected Styr to actually go through with it. It was one thing to hate someone, it was something else entirely to snuff out their life. But this was good... This was something she could work with.
"Come on, darling." She beckoned the young mutant. "Let's go."
Arden led him out through the main entrance rather than the first door they'd found in the windmill field. The prison was eerily quiet: the guards who weren't decorating the walls and ceilings had long since retreated. This wasn't like America, where MNTF reinforcements were always around the corner. The nearest base was in Berlin.
As they exited, Arden whirled around, letting her Dread-Form melt away and taking in the surroundings. Remarkable... They had fashioned the exterior to look like a barn, while most of the prison itself was underground. There weren't any vehicles nearby either, not that she could see at least, so perhaps the staff stayed at the prison full-time. The lengths that humans go to... Well, she couldn't blame them. It would be no fun if they just rolled over and accepted their fate.
She looked at Styr. The boy was caked in blood, shivering in it. He was difficult to predict, but some things was certain. He valued respect, safety, and freedom. He held grudges. He could be deeply unforgiving, and he would never allow his trust to be broken the same way twice. She would give him the freedom of choice, knowing full well what he would choose. Or at least, she hoped—he had already proven to be a bundle of surprises.
"Where do you want to go now?" She paused a moment, taking a seat on a nearby fence and studying the boy's face. "I could take you back to the Institute if that's what you want. Or I could take you to the place I call home, somewhere safe, truly safe. Or... Pick a spot on the globe, and I'll take you there! The choice is yours, my darling."
It wasn't a choice, not really. Styr had already shown her that he no longer believed in the Institute. Picking somewhere random offered him no safety. Whereas Arden had given him exactly what he wanted. Styr would have no reason to believe she wouldn't continue to do so. So, she waited, watching the boy weigh his options.
Hvnny-Bvns0
She hadn't expected Styr to actually go through with it. It was one thing to hate someone, it was something else entirely to snuff out their life. But this was good... This was something she could work with.
"Come on, darling." She beckoned the young mutant. "Let's go."
Arden led him out through the main entrance rather than the first door they'd found in the windmill field. The prison was eerily quiet: the guards who weren't decorating the walls and ceilings had long since retreated. This wasn't like America, where MNTF reinforcements were always around the corner. The nearest base was in Berlin.
As they exited, Arden whirled around, letting her Dread-Form melt away and taking in the surroundings. Remarkable... They had fashioned the exterior to look like a barn, while most of the prison itself was underground. There weren't any vehicles nearby either, not that she could see at least, so perhaps the staff stayed at the prison full-time. The lengths that humans go to... Well, she couldn't blame them. It would be no fun if they just rolled over and accepted their fate.
She looked at Styr. The boy was caked in blood, shivering in it. He was difficult to predict, but some things was certain. He valued respect, safety, and freedom. He held grudges. He could be deeply unforgiving, and he would never allow his trust to be broken the same way twice. She would give him the freedom of choice, knowing full well what he would choose. Or at least, she hoped—he had already proven to be a bundle of surprises.
"Where do you want to go now?" She paused a moment, taking a seat on a nearby fence and studying the boy's face. "I could take you back to the Institute if that's what you want. Or I could take you to the place I call home, somewhere safe, truly safe. Or... Pick a spot on the globe, and I'll take you there! The choice is yours, my darling."
It wasn't a choice, not really. Styr had already shown her that he no longer believed in the Institute. Picking somewhere random offered him no safety. Whereas Arden had given him exactly what he wanted. Styr would have no reason to believe she wouldn't continue to do so. So, she waited, watching the boy weigh his options.
Hvnny-Bvns0
Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🧿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘵
Dans set her cans of spray paint on the floor, switching to a sharpie. The crude sound of felt tip against bumpy, jagged wall wasn’t pretty, but it was one that Dans enjoyed thoroughly. She drew in between small drags of Kenny’s cigarette, one which he had graciously shared with her. Dans had drawn on the very top of the wall, as per usual. It was harder for her to reach, but it was even harder for it to be wiped off. To anyone else, it might just seem like a pain, but not to Dans. Seeing an almost illegible version of her name on a wall, withstanding many wipe-downs and repaints, brought her an odd sense of joy.
She had begun to doodle a butterfly: the swoopy delicacy a harsh contrast to the bright, crude drawings and writing on the walls; when Kenny grabbed her attention. Dans left the half-finished butterfly as it was, capping her pen and shoving it, alongside her spray paints, in the small crossbody she wore. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about wasting her energy on teleporting the pink paints into her room, especially when she’d have to walk all the way there and back if she wanted to use them again.
Dans felt her head spin as Kenny ran them out to the hall before finally slowing down again, having to lean against a nearby wall in hopes of staving off the nausea that the speedster’s power brought. When the floor was finally down and the roof once more up, Dans was acutely aware of three staff approaching their small group. She paid very little attention to them, double-checking that her bag was still fully zipped. She’d be pretty upset if her cans of paint fell out on the way there…
“...We're meeting in the auditorium for a census check during the lockdown. Please follow us."
Oh. So that’s what this was about. Well, at least they had left when they did- Dans wasn’t sure what three new residents failing to show up would cause, but probably much more trouble than she would like. She would be perfectly happy if everything stayed problem-and-worry-free.
Dans walked beside Kenny, Dhariya on the other side of him. The way Dhariya admired Kenny was not lost on Dans.
“No, thanks.” Dans shook her head, turning down the lollipop he offered her. “I don’t like cinnamon.”
Dans followed Kenny inside the auditorium, glancing back to make sure that Dhariya got in as well. The room was filled with hushed whispers, likely about the Institute’s current situation. Stoker and Sparks stood outside, while Walters ushered the small group of new residents inside the crowded room. Dans shot a glance towards Kenny and Dhariya, as the three found a spot, just separated from the rest of the crowd.
“We missed a lot.” Dans murmured, leaning into Kenny, eyes still on Dhariya. Despite the situation, Dans couldn’t pull her eyes away. She was sounding like a desperate teenager to her own mind, but that didn’t really matter. Dhariya was pretty… Dans could admire that, at least until the staff went into business mode.
Walliver
orpheus.
She had begun to doodle a butterfly: the swoopy delicacy a harsh contrast to the bright, crude drawings and writing on the walls; when Kenny grabbed her attention. Dans left the half-finished butterfly as it was, capping her pen and shoving it, alongside her spray paints, in the small crossbody she wore. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about wasting her energy on teleporting the pink paints into her room, especially when she’d have to walk all the way there and back if she wanted to use them again.
Dans felt her head spin as Kenny ran them out to the hall before finally slowing down again, having to lean against a nearby wall in hopes of staving off the nausea that the speedster’s power brought. When the floor was finally down and the roof once more up, Dans was acutely aware of three staff approaching their small group. She paid very little attention to them, double-checking that her bag was still fully zipped. She’d be pretty upset if her cans of paint fell out on the way there…
“...We're meeting in the auditorium for a census check during the lockdown. Please follow us."
Oh. So that’s what this was about. Well, at least they had left when they did- Dans wasn’t sure what three new residents failing to show up would cause, but probably much more trouble than she would like. She would be perfectly happy if everything stayed problem-and-worry-free.
Dans walked beside Kenny, Dhariya on the other side of him. The way Dhariya admired Kenny was not lost on Dans.
“No, thanks.” Dans shook her head, turning down the lollipop he offered her. “I don’t like cinnamon.”
Dans followed Kenny inside the auditorium, glancing back to make sure that Dhariya got in as well. The room was filled with hushed whispers, likely about the Institute’s current situation. Stoker and Sparks stood outside, while Walters ushered the small group of new residents inside the crowded room. Dans shot a glance towards Kenny and Dhariya, as the three found a spot, just separated from the rest of the crowd.
“We missed a lot.” Dans murmured, leaning into Kenny, eyes still on Dhariya. Despite the situation, Dans couldn’t pull her eyes away. She was sounding like a desperate teenager to her own mind, but that didn’t really matter. Dhariya was pretty… Dans could admire that, at least until the staff went into business mode.
Walliver
orpheus.
Last edited:
Walliver
Two Thousand Club
Despite the guards’ best efforts to make sure none of them had any idea of where they were, Noah found out. The accent of some of the guards, the faint smell of corn that sometimes followed them. Oh and the conversation they had right outside his door while they thought he was passed out. They were somewhere in Kansas, somewhere rural. Close to Mulvane if the accents were anything to go by- which was going to be an absolute nightmare.
Noah had a place in Mulvane, knew one person who would be willing to help them out. For a brief moment, he wished the MNTF base was literally anywhere else. He had connections in Montana, Nevada, hell he had war buddies in Florida that wouldn’t hesitate to shelter them. But going to this person for help? It would be the kind of torture second only to what he had been experiencing for two years.
“Yeah, I’ve got a place. Stick close.”
-/-/-/-
With a population of around 7,000 all with a small-town state of mind, it was easy to get noticed in Mulvane. Dredging up the powers that were still slowly seeping back into his bones, he sent a wave of calm out to the panicked onlookers. Their fears dissuaded, the townspeople turned away. Noah led the group to a house at the edge of the town. Three stories tall, sturdy and unchanged by the passage of time, it was a familiar sight to Noah.
“Stay back for a minute.” He spoke to the group before going up to the door. He knocked- the classic Shave and a Haircut tune- and waited for the old wooden door to creak open. A grizzled, graying older man opened the door. His expression immediately soured at the sight of Noah.
“I thought I told you to stay away from here and never come back.” He spoke harshly, his tone venomous and firm. Noah nodded.
“I haven’t forgotten. But I need a place to stay. They need a place to stay. At least until I can get them back to the Institute.” He explained. Pleading and groveling were not below him, but he would have preferred to keep some of his remaining shreds of dignity. The graying man observed him and the ragtag group carefully, his expression losing some of its firmness. No doubt his eyes were focused on the needle marks that coated Noah’s arms, or perhaps the fact that he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days- it had been weeks, actually, but semantics.
“Okay. But just this once. After this, you and your Institute cronies stay out of Mulvane. And out of our lives.” The man relented, opening the door wider and stepping back inside. Noah turned and gestured for the group to come with.
“It’s okay. This place is safe.” Noah nodded, stepping inside the old, familiar house. “At least…it’s safe for all of you.”
Not for Noah. Not when the ghost of his brother haunted every corner and his nephew- a graying old man doomed to a mortal lifespan- glared daggers at him with every step he took. But it was safe for the group, safer than anything else.
orpheus.
monkeydoll555
Hvnny-Bvns0
Noah had a place in Mulvane, knew one person who would be willing to help them out. For a brief moment, he wished the MNTF base was literally anywhere else. He had connections in Montana, Nevada, hell he had war buddies in Florida that wouldn’t hesitate to shelter them. But going to this person for help? It would be the kind of torture second only to what he had been experiencing for two years.
“Yeah, I’ve got a place. Stick close.”
-/-/-/-
With a population of around 7,000 all with a small-town state of mind, it was easy to get noticed in Mulvane. Dredging up the powers that were still slowly seeping back into his bones, he sent a wave of calm out to the panicked onlookers. Their fears dissuaded, the townspeople turned away. Noah led the group to a house at the edge of the town. Three stories tall, sturdy and unchanged by the passage of time, it was a familiar sight to Noah.
“Stay back for a minute.” He spoke to the group before going up to the door. He knocked- the classic Shave and a Haircut tune- and waited for the old wooden door to creak open. A grizzled, graying older man opened the door. His expression immediately soured at the sight of Noah.
“I thought I told you to stay away from here and never come back.” He spoke harshly, his tone venomous and firm. Noah nodded.
“I haven’t forgotten. But I need a place to stay. They need a place to stay. At least until I can get them back to the Institute.” He explained. Pleading and groveling were not below him, but he would have preferred to keep some of his remaining shreds of dignity. The graying man observed him and the ragtag group carefully, his expression losing some of its firmness. No doubt his eyes were focused on the needle marks that coated Noah’s arms, or perhaps the fact that he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days- it had been weeks, actually, but semantics.
“Okay. But just this once. After this, you and your Institute cronies stay out of Mulvane. And out of our lives.” The man relented, opening the door wider and stepping back inside. Noah turned and gestured for the group to come with.
“It’s okay. This place is safe.” Noah nodded, stepping inside the old, familiar house. “At least…it’s safe for all of you.”
Not for Noah. Not when the ghost of his brother haunted every corner and his nephew- a graying old man doomed to a mortal lifespan- glared daggers at him with every step he took. But it was safe for the group, safer than anything else.
orpheus.
monkeydoll555
Hvnny-Bvns0
Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🧿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘵
Styr followed Arden closely, mind hazy. In complete honesty, he was still processing what he had done. The chill of the German Spring, combined with the blood that caked his body, caused him to shiver. He didn’t have a lot of meat on his bones either, so the 9º felt closer to the negatives.
The strong stench of the barn brought Styr back down to Earth, his gaze trained on the grassy horizon. He took in a shaky breath, before doubling over and vomiting on the floor. He coughed and spluttered, tea and measly lunch leaving his stomach. He was never that queasy, but everything had finally caught up to him. The blood he was caked in- his mother’s blood- covered him from head to toe. There was no way he was getting it out of his clothes, let alone his shoes. But it wasn’t just her blood- it was the bits of her organs he had gone through. It was the bones he had broken, the intestines he had severed-
Styr doubled over again, vomiting up a stinging, yellow liquid. He dry heaved, wiping his mouth with the hem of his already-soiled shirt. He spat a few more times, getting rid of the taste of his lunch and stomach acid.
He finally stood up, turning to Arden, who took that as an invitation to speak.
When Arden had finished laying out Styr’s options, he didn’t even have to think. The Institute, Arden’s home, or anywhere he wished.
Was it even a question?
“That safe place you mentioned. Whatever it’s called.” He answered, pulling at his shirt. He hated having weird things touch his skin… like vomit and blood. But it was a small price to pay for revenge. “Will I be able to see Thomas again?” He asked, after a pause.
"That's up to Thomas, darling." Arden replied simply.
Styr licked his chapped lips, blood running cold.
Would Thomas want to see him in the first place?
Styr was a murderer, now. He had become everything his mother said he was.
But there was no time to second-guess himself. He had done the right thing. Arden told him so. Thomas- Thomas would understand. Thomas had to understand.
Styr shivered as a gust of wind blew by. He probably looked pathetic: like a dog that some kids shot with a BB gun.
Styr stood beside Arden, leaning back against the painted fence.
“...Could I ever go to see Thomas?” Styr finally asked, beginning to pick the gore off his shirt, tossing it to the green grass below his feet.
"You want to visit the Institute?" Arden stood from her spot on the fence, leaning down so she could face Styr, who avoided eye contact. "Darling, you're free to go back there, like I've said. But I don't think the staff there will allow you to come and go as you please... Now, if we're talking about Thomas coming to stay with us, that's a different matter entirely."
Styr nodded. “I can convince him. I know I can- he’s my boyfriend. And he’s seen how the Institute lets people die. I need to visit him sometime. He’ll join us.” Styr began to mumble, as though he was convincing himself as much as Arden.
"I don't doubt that for a moment." Arden smiled.
Styr took in a shaky breath, crossing his arms.
“Just take us to your place- or whatever it is.” Styr commanded.
"Come then, stand close," Arden requested. Styr pushed off the fence, barely having stood to his full height before he and Arden were enveloped by a silvery-violet portal. His vision was obscured for a few seconds, and when it cleared, he stood beside Arden, in front of a large manor. It wasn’t nearly as large as the Institute… but it also seemed more like a home than a school. Styr looked to Arden, unsure what to do or think. He knew he could get away if need be, so he was content to let her lead the way.
Simon Strut
The strong stench of the barn brought Styr back down to Earth, his gaze trained on the grassy horizon. He took in a shaky breath, before doubling over and vomiting on the floor. He coughed and spluttered, tea and measly lunch leaving his stomach. He was never that queasy, but everything had finally caught up to him. The blood he was caked in- his mother’s blood- covered him from head to toe. There was no way he was getting it out of his clothes, let alone his shoes. But it wasn’t just her blood- it was the bits of her organs he had gone through. It was the bones he had broken, the intestines he had severed-
Styr doubled over again, vomiting up a stinging, yellow liquid. He dry heaved, wiping his mouth with the hem of his already-soiled shirt. He spat a few more times, getting rid of the taste of his lunch and stomach acid.
He finally stood up, turning to Arden, who took that as an invitation to speak.
When Arden had finished laying out Styr’s options, he didn’t even have to think. The Institute, Arden’s home, or anywhere he wished.
Was it even a question?
“That safe place you mentioned. Whatever it’s called.” He answered, pulling at his shirt. He hated having weird things touch his skin… like vomit and blood. But it was a small price to pay for revenge. “Will I be able to see Thomas again?” He asked, after a pause.
"That's up to Thomas, darling." Arden replied simply.
Styr licked his chapped lips, blood running cold.
Would Thomas want to see him in the first place?
Styr was a murderer, now. He had become everything his mother said he was.
But there was no time to second-guess himself. He had done the right thing. Arden told him so. Thomas- Thomas would understand. Thomas had to understand.
Styr shivered as a gust of wind blew by. He probably looked pathetic: like a dog that some kids shot with a BB gun.
Styr stood beside Arden, leaning back against the painted fence.
“...Could I ever go to see Thomas?” Styr finally asked, beginning to pick the gore off his shirt, tossing it to the green grass below his feet.
"You want to visit the Institute?" Arden stood from her spot on the fence, leaning down so she could face Styr, who avoided eye contact. "Darling, you're free to go back there, like I've said. But I don't think the staff there will allow you to come and go as you please... Now, if we're talking about Thomas coming to stay with us, that's a different matter entirely."
Styr nodded. “I can convince him. I know I can- he’s my boyfriend. And he’s seen how the Institute lets people die. I need to visit him sometime. He’ll join us.” Styr began to mumble, as though he was convincing himself as much as Arden.
"I don't doubt that for a moment." Arden smiled.
Styr took in a shaky breath, crossing his arms.
“Just take us to your place- or whatever it is.” Styr commanded.
"Come then, stand close," Arden requested. Styr pushed off the fence, barely having stood to his full height before he and Arden were enveloped by a silvery-violet portal. His vision was obscured for a few seconds, and when it cleared, he stood beside Arden, in front of a large manor. It wasn’t nearly as large as the Institute… but it also seemed more like a home than a school. Styr looked to Arden, unsure what to do or think. He knew he could get away if need be, so he was content to let her lead the way.
Simon Strut
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orpheus.
.𝐁𝐞/ＹＯＵ.
DECIDED
© reveriee
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Hileena Akhtar
En Route to MNTF HQ
The ride was mostly silent. The tension had everyone both on high alert and lost in thought. Even Nat didn't have much to say, while Alexander's shoulders hunched over the steering wheel. Blood-red light spilt into the Humvee as the sun began to set—night would likely fall before they reached the MNTF headquarters.
"Let's..." Hileena tried to speak but her throat felt like it was full of gravel and dust. She coughed, then continued. "Let's go over the plan one more time, shall we?"
She tapped the screen on her wrist-device, projecting a hologram of the MNTF headquarters in the air. "Leander will have put them on high alert, so we'll have to employ a great deal of stealth to get in. Remember, they have prisoners, which means they have leverage. If any of us get caught, lives will be lost. There are three buildings aboveground. The main building has two floors: the first floor is for visitors, while the second floor is the guards' residence. The armoury is self-explanatory, as is the R&D lab. All three buildings have elevators that allow access to the underground facility—they don't have stairs for security reasons—but the easiest elevator to gain access to will be the R&D lab. If we use that elevator, we'll end up right in the centre of the facility."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Alexander glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. "Since we're splitting into teams of three, we could each take a different elevator. That might speed things up."
"That certainly could be an option. We'll have to see what the security looks like when we arrive, and go from there." Hileena turned to Nat, then gripped her hand tightly... More for her own comfort than her colleague's. "Once we're underground, Lurch, you're with me. We're going to infiltrate the laboratory, collect as much information as possible and destroy the rest. Jack-Dane, you're the fastest; you need to make your way to Sector 16. Once there, attach the EMP to the central console of the Mass Inhibitor Generator. You've also got a spare EMP in case of an emergency—it'll buy you some breathing room should you run into any agents. Alexander, you and your Shadows will be in charge of rescue efforts. Martha will likely be in Sector 10, while Leander will either be in Sector 7 or 8. But you'll also have to check Sectors 4, 6, and possibly 12. Finally, Nat... You don't have any powers, but you're smartest of us. You'll be accompanying Jack-Dane, part of the way, but your destination is Sector 15. That's pretty much the brains of the entire facility, you'll be able to see and control everything from there. Doors, elevators, cameras, you name it."
As Alexander pulled the car into park, she gave the group one last look. Fear, anger, determination. Hope. She could see all of it in all of them. This was it, the defining moment.
"Is everyone ready?"
Walliver
Hvnny-Bvns0
orpheus.
En Route to MNTF HQ
The ride was mostly silent. The tension had everyone both on high alert and lost in thought. Even Nat didn't have much to say, while Alexander's shoulders hunched over the steering wheel. Blood-red light spilt into the Humvee as the sun began to set—night would likely fall before they reached the MNTF headquarters.
"Let's..." Hileena tried to speak but her throat felt like it was full of gravel and dust. She coughed, then continued. "Let's go over the plan one more time, shall we?"
She tapped the screen on her wrist-device, projecting a hologram of the MNTF headquarters in the air. "Leander will have put them on high alert, so we'll have to employ a great deal of stealth to get in. Remember, they have prisoners, which means they have leverage. If any of us get caught, lives will be lost. There are three buildings aboveground. The main building has two floors: the first floor is for visitors, while the second floor is the guards' residence. The armoury is self-explanatory, as is the R&D lab. All three buildings have elevators that allow access to the underground facility—they don't have stairs for security reasons—but the easiest elevator to gain access to will be the R&D lab. If we use that elevator, we'll end up right in the centre of the facility."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Alexander glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. "Since we're splitting into teams of three, we could each take a different elevator. That might speed things up."
"That certainly could be an option. We'll have to see what the security looks like when we arrive, and go from there." Hileena turned to Nat, then gripped her hand tightly... More for her own comfort than her colleague's. "Once we're underground, Lurch, you're with me. We're going to infiltrate the laboratory, collect as much information as possible and destroy the rest. Jack-Dane, you're the fastest; you need to make your way to Sector 16. Once there, attach the EMP to the central console of the Mass Inhibitor Generator. You've also got a spare EMP in case of an emergency—it'll buy you some breathing room should you run into any agents. Alexander, you and your Shadows will be in charge of rescue efforts. Martha will likely be in Sector 10, while Leander will either be in Sector 7 or 8. But you'll also have to check Sectors 4, 6, and possibly 12. Finally, Nat... You don't have any powers, but you're smartest of us. You'll be accompanying Jack-Dane, part of the way, but your destination is Sector 15. That's pretty much the brains of the entire facility, you'll be able to see and control everything from there. Doors, elevators, cameras, you name it."
As Alexander pulled the car into park, she gave the group one last look. Fear, anger, determination. Hope. She could see all of it in all of them. This was it, the defining moment.
"Is everyone ready?"
Walliver
Hvnny-Bvns0
orpheus.
Simon Strut
I am not a man, I am a bean.
Alexander Blackthorne
Location: MNTF Headquarters
He had to park a short distance away from the headquarters. It certainly wouldn't do to charge in there, drive through the gates, guns-blazing like an action film. No, the rest of the journey would be made on foot, quietly. There wasn't much cover, save for that offered by the moonless night, so silence would have to be their best friend. As they grew closer, Alexander's heart was almost in his throat. He tried to distract himself by paying attention to the sound of gravel crunching under their feet. Hileena's footfalls were calculated, measured. Nat's were methodical, identical. Jack-Dane sort of shuffled, reducing noise by sliding rather than striking with his shoes. And then there was Lurch; the barest, tiniest sound, as if his soles were made out of cotton wool and he weighed less than a feather. How did the man do that? It wasn't even in his powerset. A small, selfish part of him wanted to reach out for Lurch's hand, thank him for doing this, but the gesture would be entirely for himself. He didn't even want to make eye-contact, fearing that it would unnerve him.
Now, a small thicket of trees, followed by an electrified fence, was all that separated them from the MNTF facility. This was the biggest facility in the world, many MNTF agents were trained here, most of the highest ranking prisoners were kept here. If this mission turns out to be a success—no, when it does—they will have dealt the strongest blow against their enemy since the founding of this dreaded organisation. Alexander had never really given the fight against the MNTF much thought: they had barely made an impact on his life up until recently. But now, the mere thought of burning this place to the ground made him almost giddy.
Syfa let out the slightest hiss, then fell silent, trying not to give anything away. Daven didn't have the same tact, recoiling in fear, barely able to hide his disgust. His... Fear. What was causing them to act up? He tried reaching down into the pit of darkness within, but they had caged their minds. Then he felt a thump on his chest. His amulet rattled. Alexander's eyes widened. With everything that was going on, he had nearly forgotten about it. He theorised that the MNTF had acquired a piece, but hadn't considered it would be here. This changed everything.
Should he tell the team? No. They'd think he was putting the mission into jeopardy. He wouldn't be, of course, but telling them that he now had a secondary objective wouldn't inspire confidence. It would be fine. The Shadows could sense the amulet, so while he and Daven found Martha and Leander, he'd send Syfa to home in on the piece, retrieve it, then search the other cell blocks.
Alexander smiled, trying to inject himself with some faith that it would all work out perfectly. His lips shook.
Location: MNTF Headquarters
He had to park a short distance away from the headquarters. It certainly wouldn't do to charge in there, drive through the gates, guns-blazing like an action film. No, the rest of the journey would be made on foot, quietly. There wasn't much cover, save for that offered by the moonless night, so silence would have to be their best friend. As they grew closer, Alexander's heart was almost in his throat. He tried to distract himself by paying attention to the sound of gravel crunching under their feet. Hileena's footfalls were calculated, measured. Nat's were methodical, identical. Jack-Dane sort of shuffled, reducing noise by sliding rather than striking with his shoes. And then there was Lurch; the barest, tiniest sound, as if his soles were made out of cotton wool and he weighed less than a feather. How did the man do that? It wasn't even in his powerset. A small, selfish part of him wanted to reach out for Lurch's hand, thank him for doing this, but the gesture would be entirely for himself. He didn't even want to make eye-contact, fearing that it would unnerve him.
Now, a small thicket of trees, followed by an electrified fence, was all that separated them from the MNTF facility. This was the biggest facility in the world, many MNTF agents were trained here, most of the highest ranking prisoners were kept here. If this mission turns out to be a success—no, when it does—they will have dealt the strongest blow against their enemy since the founding of this dreaded organisation. Alexander had never really given the fight against the MNTF much thought: they had barely made an impact on his life up until recently. But now, the mere thought of burning this place to the ground made him almost giddy.
Syfa let out the slightest hiss, then fell silent, trying not to give anything away. Daven didn't have the same tact, recoiling in fear, barely able to hide his disgust. His... Fear. What was causing them to act up? He tried reaching down into the pit of darkness within, but they had caged their minds. Then he felt a thump on his chest. His amulet rattled. Alexander's eyes widened. With everything that was going on, he had nearly forgotten about it. He theorised that the MNTF had acquired a piece, but hadn't considered it would be here. This changed everything.
Should he tell the team? No. They'd think he was putting the mission into jeopardy. He wouldn't be, of course, but telling them that he now had a secondary objective wouldn't inspire confidence. It would be fine. The Shadows could sense the amulet, so while he and Daven found Martha and Leander, he'd send Syfa to home in on the piece, retrieve it, then search the other cell blocks.
Alexander smiled, trying to inject himself with some faith that it would all work out perfectly. His lips shook.
Hvnny-Bvns0
╭・🧿𓂃❨˖ ₊ ⊹ 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘵
Jack-Dane approached the electric fence, running over the instructions in his mind: he and Natasha would make their way through the facility, and then split off in order to go to sectors 15 and 16, respectively. He placed himself in the shadows, seeming to disappear without even having to use his power. He turned to face Natasha, holding his hand out for her to take. It would be much easier to teleport them inside instead of trying to sneak past any number of agents.
“I should be able to get us inside,” he gestured towards his outstretched hand, which had not yet been taken. “But I can’t promise we’ll both be fully intact. I haven’t had to transport anyone other than myself in a while.”
While his last comment was meant to be taken as a joke, it certainly didn’t come off as one.
Begrudgingly, Natasha took Jack-Dane’s hand. He celebrated silently, finally one step closer to getting along with his colleague, and teleported them inside the MNTF base.
“An… elevator.” Natasha deadpanned, unimpressed. “Well shit, I thought you’d be able to get us further down.” She commented, clicking the arrow beside the metal doors.
“I could if we were able to just walk in,” Jack-Dane spoke as the elevator’s doors opened, stepping inside. Natasha followed suit as he continued to speak, “my power can’t reach any farther than this.”
"No problemo. You got us this far, so your powers were... adequate." Natasha said with a snarky grin that almost reached her eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but it was something.
Jack-Dane gave her the beginnings of a smile as well, though he was well aware that his expression came off as much more unsettling than he meant. “You’d know a lot about powers.”
Natasha looked to him, glaring daggers into his soul. She sighed audibly, turning back towards the elevator doors. Jack-Dane had gotten used to that look from her.
Ding! The elevator announced their arrival. Jack-Dane cringed at the noise, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. If any agents did show up, he’d just have to hope it’d only be a few. While he was itching for a fight, that wasn’t really in the mission plan.
They exited the elevator, Jack-Dane walking slightly in front of Natasha, figuring it was best to stay in a line. It would be easier to stay out of sight that way.
She either didn’t get the memo, or didn’t care, as she walked at a brisk pace to stay either beside or in front of Jack-Dane.
“Natasha!” He whisper-yelled. “Get back.”
“Why, so you can have all the fun?” She eyed him.
Jack-Dane opened his mouth to retort, but Natasha grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the wall. They could hear MNTF agents talking- three of them, by the shadows they cast along the wall.
“Good eye,” he spoke dryly—though he did mean it.
“Thanks.” Natasha responded quickly, keeping a close eye on them. She felt his hand begin to grow ice cold, a telltale sign that he had begun to use his powers. “Wait,” she urged him, tugging him back from the shadows of the wall.
Jack-Dane paused, his foot completely consumed by shadow. He shot her a questioning look, but she just held up five fingers. Then four. Then three. Then-
Natasha had miscounted by a second, but it didn’t matter. The three agents were quick to react, but Natasha was quicker, punching the middle one’s nose in as the other two drew their weapons. Some sort of heavy-duty taser, by the look of it.
Jack-Dane jumped in as well, destabilizing another agent with a kick, shoving them to the floor with his shoulder. Jack-Dane could fight on the ground, and had been sent to his school principal’s enough to know how to do so well.
The agent landed with a grunt, the wind clearly knocked out of their system. Jack-Dane heard a crack from somewhere in their body, likely a rib. He grabbed their taser arm and yanked it upwards, before incapacitating them with their own weapon. As soon as the agent stopped resisting, Jack-Dane stood, using the taser as a bat on the third and final agent.
The sound of the metal weapon hitting the wall was heard as the agent deflected, side-stepping the hit with surprising agility.
Jack-Dane heard the thud of the agent Natasha had been fighting hit the ground, as she whirled around to join the conflict.
Jack-Dane tossed the taser to the side, fighting much better with his fists than he did with any weapon.
The two fought with the agent, whose skills seemed to lie in swiftness rather than strength. That much was obvious by the way they kept dodging backwards, never throwing a punch of their own—
—Oh. Fuck.
Jack-Dane felt his breath halt as he landed on the ground, spitting out a gob of blood as the agent came crashing down beside him, getting tased by Natasha, who didn’t stop until they went completely limp.
Jack-Dane wiped his mouth, standing up. It hurt, though that was more his pride than his body.
“Motherfucker…” he grumbled, kicking the agent’s motionless body. “Oh, right. Thanks for saving my ass. Pretty awesome.” He took a step back from the agent, and Natasha took his place. She bent by the agent, swiftly getting to work on stripping them of their uniform. She took off her shirt, revealing a bulletproof vest. The agent’s large shirt hid the vest’s outline well, or at least well enough. From her pocket, Natasha produced a counterfeit badge that may as well have been official. She looked at Jack-Dane expectantly, as though she were going to tell him something. When he stared at her for a few moments too long, showing no reaction, she flipped out.
“Would you put something on so they don’t notice your narrow ass!?” She whisper-screamed, standing to her full height and kicking one of the bodies in frustration.
Jack-Dane crinkled his nose, looking down at the unconscious agents. It was likely that more would be on the way, if the MNTF were organized enough to keep track of their patrolling agents. So, a disguise would be smart. But the thought of someone else’s sweaty clothes touching his skin, and the weird fabric… eurgh.
“I’m good.” He turned it down, crossing his arms. “I’ll just hide the bodies.”
There was no better way to phrase that sentence, as Jack-Dane pulled down the wall’s shadow, concealing the bodies. The figures were hidden well enough that they weren’t noticeable upon first glance, and that was good enough for him.
Natasha watched him work with the straightest deadpan she could muster. “Neat.” She mumbled as Jack-Dane returned to her side.
“Huh? What was that?” He flashed her his too-wide grin.
“Would you hurry up already?" Natasha whispered in a harsh tone. "This isn't the state fair, for fucks sake!”
Jack-Dane shrugged, following Natasha through the halls.
“We make a pretty good team, eh?” He piped in after a minute. This was the closest Jack-Dane had gotten to any of his colleagues so far, so he’d like to milk it for all it was worth.
Natasha smirked. “I mean, we have the components. I’m the brains and you’re the brawn.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Jack-Dane decided, holding up a fist. Natasha looked at him like he grew a second head, before giving in and tapping his fist with her own. Unfortunately for her, Jack-Dane put his all into it, not expecting her to use that little enthusiasm. His fist collided with her arm instead of her hand, and immediately, Natasha held her fist back up and punched him just as hard.
“That’s fair.” He rubbed the point of impact on his arm, stopping as they came to the end of the hallway. “Got it turned on?” Jack-Dane turned to Natasha, pointing to his own earpiece.
“You mean comms?” She asked, stone-faced. “Yeah. It’s on.”
“Stellar.” His off-putting grin adorned his face once more.
Natasha grimaced in response, the sentiment clearly not returned.
“As usual, that’s fair.” He let his face drop, taking a step towards the long, daunting hall that lead towards sector 16: the Mass Inhibitor Generator. “Well, see you on the flip side. Don’t die.”
“Same for you,” Natasha nodded as they headed their separate ways. She continued to walk straight ahead, Jack-Dane turning off to the left. After a moment, he spoke into their comms.
“You there?”
“Christ- fuck!” Natasha whisper-shouted.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jack-Dane hummed, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck- prepared for a fight, whether or not one would actually happen. The Inhibitor Field surrounding the building had finally started to take effect, and he could feel his control over the surrounding shadows begin to slip. He needed to do this fast.
His strategic footfalls were the only sound echoing throughout the long hallway, save for the humming of the Mass Inhibitor Generator, growing ever louder as he approached.
The generator’s daunting shape stood before him, looming over the dark room. Jack-Dane wasn’t short by any means, and even he had to look directly up to see the top.
He pulled the EMP from his pocket, tossing and catching it, tossing and catching it, tossing and catching it. A repetitive motion to keep him concentrated, and refrain from dropping the stealth to get the whole thing done faster.
He approached the Generator, mindful of his footfalls. The MNTF clearly didn’t care much about presentation, with all the wires and parts scattered around. But what did Jack-Dane know about running an extremist group?
Since the run-in with the three agents, it had been much too silent. Jack-Dane climbed the metal steps that lead to the Mass Inhibitor Generator, eyes flitting around the room. Trouble tended to follow wherever he went, so the calm was unnerving.
He stepped up to the platform, where the center of operations seemed to be. The EMP was held firmly in his hand, and he finally locked his eyes on the panel he was meant to plug it in to. With two long strides, and a small amount of fumbling with the device, he plugged the EMP in.
Footsteps could be heard running down the hall, undoubtedly agents. But that didn’t matter. Jack-Dane felt a surge of power, and the shadows surrounding him would once more twitch when his fingers did. The EMP was on, and it was working. He shook out his hands, turning towards the sound of the approaching agents. Half of their equipment would have stopped working, and Jack-Dane was anything but disappointed at their late arrival.
Hell, depending on how many there were, maybe he’d get to brag about taking down more than anyone else. He’d let Natasha know he’d succeeded after taking care of… well, this minor inconvenience. After all, he deserved a break after succeeding in a stealth mission.
orpheus.
“I should be able to get us inside,” he gestured towards his outstretched hand, which had not yet been taken. “But I can’t promise we’ll both be fully intact. I haven’t had to transport anyone other than myself in a while.”
While his last comment was meant to be taken as a joke, it certainly didn’t come off as one.
Begrudgingly, Natasha took Jack-Dane’s hand. He celebrated silently, finally one step closer to getting along with his colleague, and teleported them inside the MNTF base.
“An… elevator.” Natasha deadpanned, unimpressed. “Well shit, I thought you’d be able to get us further down.” She commented, clicking the arrow beside the metal doors.
“I could if we were able to just walk in,” Jack-Dane spoke as the elevator’s doors opened, stepping inside. Natasha followed suit as he continued to speak, “my power can’t reach any farther than this.”
"No problemo. You got us this far, so your powers were... adequate." Natasha said with a snarky grin that almost reached her eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but it was something.
Jack-Dane gave her the beginnings of a smile as well, though he was well aware that his expression came off as much more unsettling than he meant. “You’d know a lot about powers.”
Natasha looked to him, glaring daggers into his soul. She sighed audibly, turning back towards the elevator doors. Jack-Dane had gotten used to that look from her.
Ding! The elevator announced their arrival. Jack-Dane cringed at the noise, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. If any agents did show up, he’d just have to hope it’d only be a few. While he was itching for a fight, that wasn’t really in the mission plan.
They exited the elevator, Jack-Dane walking slightly in front of Natasha, figuring it was best to stay in a line. It would be easier to stay out of sight that way.
She either didn’t get the memo, or didn’t care, as she walked at a brisk pace to stay either beside or in front of Jack-Dane.
“Natasha!” He whisper-yelled. “Get back.”
“Why, so you can have all the fun?” She eyed him.
Jack-Dane opened his mouth to retort, but Natasha grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the wall. They could hear MNTF agents talking- three of them, by the shadows they cast along the wall.
“Good eye,” he spoke dryly—though he did mean it.
“Thanks.” Natasha responded quickly, keeping a close eye on them. She felt his hand begin to grow ice cold, a telltale sign that he had begun to use his powers. “Wait,” she urged him, tugging him back from the shadows of the wall.
Jack-Dane paused, his foot completely consumed by shadow. He shot her a questioning look, but she just held up five fingers. Then four. Then three. Then-
Natasha had miscounted by a second, but it didn’t matter. The three agents were quick to react, but Natasha was quicker, punching the middle one’s nose in as the other two drew their weapons. Some sort of heavy-duty taser, by the look of it.
Jack-Dane jumped in as well, destabilizing another agent with a kick, shoving them to the floor with his shoulder. Jack-Dane could fight on the ground, and had been sent to his school principal’s enough to know how to do so well.
The agent landed with a grunt, the wind clearly knocked out of their system. Jack-Dane heard a crack from somewhere in their body, likely a rib. He grabbed their taser arm and yanked it upwards, before incapacitating them with their own weapon. As soon as the agent stopped resisting, Jack-Dane stood, using the taser as a bat on the third and final agent.
The sound of the metal weapon hitting the wall was heard as the agent deflected, side-stepping the hit with surprising agility.
Jack-Dane heard the thud of the agent Natasha had been fighting hit the ground, as she whirled around to join the conflict.
Jack-Dane tossed the taser to the side, fighting much better with his fists than he did with any weapon.
The two fought with the agent, whose skills seemed to lie in swiftness rather than strength. That much was obvious by the way they kept dodging backwards, never throwing a punch of their own—
—Oh. Fuck.
Jack-Dane felt his breath halt as he landed on the ground, spitting out a gob of blood as the agent came crashing down beside him, getting tased by Natasha, who didn’t stop until they went completely limp.
Jack-Dane wiped his mouth, standing up. It hurt, though that was more his pride than his body.
“Motherfucker…” he grumbled, kicking the agent’s motionless body. “Oh, right. Thanks for saving my ass. Pretty awesome.” He took a step back from the agent, and Natasha took his place. She bent by the agent, swiftly getting to work on stripping them of their uniform. She took off her shirt, revealing a bulletproof vest. The agent’s large shirt hid the vest’s outline well, or at least well enough. From her pocket, Natasha produced a counterfeit badge that may as well have been official. She looked at Jack-Dane expectantly, as though she were going to tell him something. When he stared at her for a few moments too long, showing no reaction, she flipped out.
“Would you put something on so they don’t notice your narrow ass!?” She whisper-screamed, standing to her full height and kicking one of the bodies in frustration.
Jack-Dane crinkled his nose, looking down at the unconscious agents. It was likely that more would be on the way, if the MNTF were organized enough to keep track of their patrolling agents. So, a disguise would be smart. But the thought of someone else’s sweaty clothes touching his skin, and the weird fabric… eurgh.
“I’m good.” He turned it down, crossing his arms. “I’ll just hide the bodies.”
There was no better way to phrase that sentence, as Jack-Dane pulled down the wall’s shadow, concealing the bodies. The figures were hidden well enough that they weren’t noticeable upon first glance, and that was good enough for him.
Natasha watched him work with the straightest deadpan she could muster. “Neat.” She mumbled as Jack-Dane returned to her side.
“Huh? What was that?” He flashed her his too-wide grin.
“Would you hurry up already?" Natasha whispered in a harsh tone. "This isn't the state fair, for fucks sake!”
Jack-Dane shrugged, following Natasha through the halls.
“We make a pretty good team, eh?” He piped in after a minute. This was the closest Jack-Dane had gotten to any of his colleagues so far, so he’d like to milk it for all it was worth.
Natasha smirked. “I mean, we have the components. I’m the brains and you’re the brawn.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Jack-Dane decided, holding up a fist. Natasha looked at him like he grew a second head, before giving in and tapping his fist with her own. Unfortunately for her, Jack-Dane put his all into it, not expecting her to use that little enthusiasm. His fist collided with her arm instead of her hand, and immediately, Natasha held her fist back up and punched him just as hard.
“That’s fair.” He rubbed the point of impact on his arm, stopping as they came to the end of the hallway. “Got it turned on?” Jack-Dane turned to Natasha, pointing to his own earpiece.
“You mean comms?” She asked, stone-faced. “Yeah. It’s on.”
“Stellar.” His off-putting grin adorned his face once more.
Natasha grimaced in response, the sentiment clearly not returned.
“As usual, that’s fair.” He let his face drop, taking a step towards the long, daunting hall that lead towards sector 16: the Mass Inhibitor Generator. “Well, see you on the flip side. Don’t die.”
“Same for you,” Natasha nodded as they headed their separate ways. She continued to walk straight ahead, Jack-Dane turning off to the left. After a moment, he spoke into their comms.
“You there?”
“Christ- fuck!” Natasha whisper-shouted.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jack-Dane hummed, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck- prepared for a fight, whether or not one would actually happen. The Inhibitor Field surrounding the building had finally started to take effect, and he could feel his control over the surrounding shadows begin to slip. He needed to do this fast.
His strategic footfalls were the only sound echoing throughout the long hallway, save for the humming of the Mass Inhibitor Generator, growing ever louder as he approached.
The generator’s daunting shape stood before him, looming over the dark room. Jack-Dane wasn’t short by any means, and even he had to look directly up to see the top.
He pulled the EMP from his pocket, tossing and catching it, tossing and catching it, tossing and catching it. A repetitive motion to keep him concentrated, and refrain from dropping the stealth to get the whole thing done faster.
He approached the Generator, mindful of his footfalls. The MNTF clearly didn’t care much about presentation, with all the wires and parts scattered around. But what did Jack-Dane know about running an extremist group?
Since the run-in with the three agents, it had been much too silent. Jack-Dane climbed the metal steps that lead to the Mass Inhibitor Generator, eyes flitting around the room. Trouble tended to follow wherever he went, so the calm was unnerving.
He stepped up to the platform, where the center of operations seemed to be. The EMP was held firmly in his hand, and he finally locked his eyes on the panel he was meant to plug it in to. With two long strides, and a small amount of fumbling with the device, he plugged the EMP in.
Footsteps could be heard running down the hall, undoubtedly agents. But that didn’t matter. Jack-Dane felt a surge of power, and the shadows surrounding him would once more twitch when his fingers did. The EMP was on, and it was working. He shook out his hands, turning towards the sound of the approaching agents. Half of their equipment would have stopped working, and Jack-Dane was anything but disappointed at their late arrival.
Hell, depending on how many there were, maybe he’d get to brag about taking down more than anyone else. He’d let Natasha know he’d succeeded after taking care of… well, this minor inconvenience. After all, he deserved a break after succeeding in a stealth mission.
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