Multiple Settings The Overseer Project

[TheImmortalDeity]

Commissioner Ryker

Tags: BriiAngelic AriAriAbabwa simj26 Eteri angel doe HTCOR The One Eyed Bandit November Witch Mistborn
​

Today was a momentous occasion for the Department of Public Security. Commissioner Ryker could tell that much while standing before her five subordinates. Their excitement, anxiety, and frustration were not lost on her. Handpicked for this seemingly impossible mission, which possessed no definitive end — short of their untimely deaths — it was natural for them to have their concerns. Even so, they ultimately had no choice, much like herself. The upper brass wanted results, so it was their job to provide a worthwhile outcome.

Releasing a huff of smoke, a cigar precariously pressed to the side of her cheek, Ryker straightened herself out, brushing her fingers through her long blonde hair with contempt. There was no use waiting out the time. It was already late enough as it was. Clearing her throat, she began to speak.

"Through these doors," she motioned to an entrance with similar functions to an airlock behind her, "are some of the most heinous criminals that the D.P.S. were barely able to capture in the past. Some may look virtuous, some may treat you with respect, and some may plead their innocence, but make no mistake — they are all monsters. The only comrades you have are standing beside you at this very moment. Never forget that."

A slow smile spread across her lips, the commissioner feeling content with her explanation. "You already know the rundown. Ascertain their strengths and weaknesses, follow protocol, and get results. That's all that matters." With a satisfied nod, she turned away from the group of overseers.

"Now then, shall we get started?"

Lowering her head and moving her face closer to a device on the wall, a retina scanner popped out, the red laser scanning for identification. At the same time, she placed her thumb on a fingerprint pad, the machine letting out a small beep. A screen above the gateway turned green, the words ACCESS APPROVED appearing across it. A moment later, the tightly sealed apparatus began to release, permitting entry into the containment site.

Moving inside, the floor, walls, and ceiling were noticeably bleached a stainless white. There was no furniture, decor, or even architecture in the room. It was nothing more than a white box. Located around its perimeter were a multitude of heavily armored guards, each holding up the latest advancement in munitions technology. Their sights were set on the middle of the room, where five restrained individuals stood, ordered not to make any sound or movement.

"The overseers are here," Ryker's voice seemingly boomed within the stilled air. "Lower your weapons. We'll take it from here."

The soldiers did as their commissioner ordered, each entering a standby position. Though, even now, their reluctance to do so was evident. Ryker couldn't blame them. It wasn't every day that you were tasked with surveilling level five inmates from the Coldwater Correctional Facility. Each of them was classified as a disaster on their own.

"Go to your assigned criminal and await further orders," Ryker commanded the overseers. "It'll only be for a short while, but you might as well familiarize yourselves with your new 'partners', yeah?" There was a noticeable strain in her speech, the woman incapable of hiding her disdain.

"I'll be back shortly." With that, she left the overseers to do as they pleased. They were professionally trained, after all.

 

[TheImmortalDeity]

Em'Yazrvhix
Tags: The One Eyed Bandit
​

The words of its superior hung heavily over Em, the Overseer flipping and turning Ryker's meaning within the confines of its thoughts. The situation — this exact scenario — wasn't foreign to it. There was a sense of déjà vu, Em having been in this position once before, with similar warnings regurgitated by a different handler. That instance fell in failure, but with a new commissioner and a restart from what happened three years ago, it hoped that things would turn out differently this time.

Allies, huh? It thought to itself, crimson irises flashing to the coworkers beside it. All of them were new faces to Em. Then again, it hadn't had time to familiarize itself with the other units in the D.P.S. There were plenty of crimes that required a senior Overseer's guidance in Lumani City and a small supply of credible individuals to meet such a lofty demand. Em believed that they would learn more about each other soon enough.

As the blanch room opened up, and Em's eyes adjusted to the piercing illumination brought with it, its focus immediately went to the figures standing in the middle of the mundane room. Seeing them lined up in a row, Em couldn't shake the eerie sensation it brought like it was an executioner preparing for a massacre. It made the chain blade on its back feel heavier than usual, the weapon whispering how it was a preventative measure to deaf ears.

Em pulled on the leather monster hide that made up its clothes, the heat retention failing to block out the chilly atmosphere surrounding it. Reaching into its pockets, it took one last glance at the subject's report despite having read the document hundreds of times before its arrival. DJERBA was visible in large print on the top of the case file, followed by detailed information gathered on the target over time. Em didn't wish to say it, but there was little to go off when your criminal was a vampire born before Lumani City's information network boomed. Other than pedantic garble, there was no substance that it felt it could use to profile the target efficiently.

Standing before one of the figures, Em lowered the paper, peering at the individual it would oversee. It gently cleared its throat before speaking, a slightly muffled deep voice coming out.

"My name is Em'Yazrvhix, but you may call me Em. Nice to meet you."

 

[HTCOR]

"Chunks"

​

• ★
• Ω
• ✉

• 
  
  
  Mentioned
  Overseer Fiznes de Lurario ( Eteri ), ???, ???
  
  
  Location
  Unknown¹
  
  ​
  
  
• 
  
  
  Condition
  Minimal Power²
  
  
  Equipment
  Prison Jumpsuit, primarily white with number '9473' stenciled onto chest, and shoulder.
  Ymir's Heart³
  
  
  
  
  ​
• 
  
  Notes
  ¹ - Unknown as to Chunks, not to the rest of the people there. Chunks forgetfulness is not something that is helpful to outside observers.
  
  ² - Minimal Power is a state in which Chunks is not actually in Hibernation mode, but just on the brink of it- it allows him to be kept docile, which, as a Floor 5 Prisoner, is a blessing for easing headaches.
  
  ³ - Ymir's Heart is an explosive embedded within the torso of Chunks. Further details are classified.
  
  ⁴ - Chunk's voice naturally rests outside the human hearing range- this is not how he talks to non-spirits, but instead affects what most would call a 'country twang'. This helps researchers actually understand what he's saying.
  
  
  
  
  

​

​

​

Contrary to what the grand majority of entities and beings required, there was no movement required to observe the surroundings for 'Chunks'. A docile exterior leads to mistakes, and mistakes allows for updates. Information was long out of date, yet minimal data still flowed- and data was not required to be dispensed unless directly requisitioned as per contract- and there was no contract holder within the room, was there?

The onyx horseshoe floated slowly within Chunk's head, a slight jiggle forming on the front of his 'face', as if inhaling and exhaling slowly. An approaching figure- paleness and height suggesting generational aquatic nature, species unknown to XIX, revolve language set to current date. Spiritual nature unconfirmed, handshake protocol not matched. Young. Shifting perimeters unadvised, keep to contract standards.

As to what Chunks was? A rotund figure, cast out of gel shaped like flickering vermilion flame within. A white prison suit, covering said flame from making this blank room into a blinding hell for all. Two gauntlets locked together to ensure the hands were unable to move, or grasp anything- a brute suppression system locking around his legs as well, as to provide the most important thing of all to the soldiers lining the room- relief from a non-existent threat.

Other than the tilt of his head and the angle of his face, all one could discern from without was the attention he paid upon his new Overseer- and nothing about the categorization of everything else within the room, from the newborn Invader, to the parasite that he was forced to be in the same room as.

And so he culled his observation of all but one in the room, the metal horseshoe within his head halting in place. The Contractor demanded attention paid to the approaching one, it demanded him to submit- as always.

Chunks slumped a little, a ripple going across the bulk of his gel. "I am called Chunks. Guess I'm to listen to all ya say, which is okay as long as I'm fed, sir," he drawled, a rasp present most gained from decades of smoke.⁴

​

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

Sato Sarganach
Tags: November Witch​

Among the lineup of overseers, a robust Wendigo stood on its hind legs like a bear, towering well at 12 feet tall. It snarled and huffed, dissipating mist fuming from its nostrils with each breath. It seemed to carry something close to its chest with just one arm. Just how did such a creature become an overseer? Did it even have basic intelligence? With the way it pranced around, sniffing and growling, it seemed unlikely! Some of the guard had to wonder what was going on in that department, but their professionalism forbade those words from coming out.

As the room opened, and the criminal lineup was revealed, the wendigo huffed again. Its gaze wandered along the line, then stopping at one Hellia. It got on three of its limbs, slowly approaching her like a curious wolf. Even at this position, it still remained taller than the average human. It neared Hellia, the deer skull close enough to her person that she would've felt its warm breath.

Then it rose again.

The thing in its arm moved. It murmured something unintelligible. The wendigo poked the third eye shut on her forehead, and she squirmed and kicked. With a massive yawn, the actual overseer sat up. The wendigo let her down, and the demon girl stumbled on her feet. Compared to the monster... she was absolutely tiny. She rubbed her eyes, groggily eyeing the person before her. She made a strange noise, and on cue, the wendigo knelt down to hand Hellia's file to her.

Spoiler

It should have surprised Sato that a nun of all people made it down here... but it didn't. She sighed with a shut mouth, made some more groans and moans despite a totally unchanging face. Occasionally her gaze would skirt over to the spirit in the lineup, and her third eye would twitch. She yawned and sat criss-cross on the ground, flipping through the paper. Eventually, she handed it back to the Wendigo.

She also raised a hand, and it obediently picked her back onto her feet. The demon finally focused on her prisoner. "Sato," she introduced, her voice low and soft like a meek child. "I'm your overseer." Sato pointed to the Wendigo. "That's Fernsby. I own him." The point became an expectant hand. One that Fernsby answered with a simple bag of brown cloth. She reached inside, and offered the wrapped candy to Hellia. "Want chocolate?"

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Djerba​

Twenty minutes, twenty weeks, twenty hours, twenty days, twenty years.

Time tick-tick-ticked by, ephemeral and into the unknown. One day, Djerba would close her eyes for what felt like minutes, only to find hours had passed. On another, she'd find days stretched wide into weeks. There were only two measures of those unknowable hours which were reliable to her: the pangs in her stomach, and the steady spread of violet blossoms across her body.

Twenty minutes. Her stomach had not complained and no new blossoms had yet sprouted forth from her flesh, so she reckoned that it had been twenty minutes for which she'd stood shackled here.

Or perhaps twenty hours at most.

Dotted throughout the room, fifty people- fifty faces- milled about. Forty-four of them had been present here for some time now, while the final six now shuffled in one after another. Overseers, they called themselves. Her new wardens, she knew them better. They were new names and new faces, but they were ones that bound her still. The collar around her neck was an itching reminder of that. Another burden upon her, clamped tight in burning reminder.

"I'm..." The scent of flowers came alongside Djerba's words, fetid and sweet in equal measure. It was a layered aroma, complex and hard to place. Djerba's voice, on the other hand, was dressed in no such frills. It was distant and flat, holding within it no shadowy folds within which to tuck away any hidden intents. "...Djerba? That was what they told me I was called."

Her solitary eye- just as plain as her words- peered up at the masked Overseer. Em, it called itself, swaddled in layers of cloth.

"They told me you'd be taking us outside." It was a foreign place to her. As long as she could remember, Coldwater had been all she knew. The muffled cries of gulls and the distant crashing of waves were it represented to her.

"How... Is it there?" This time her words crinkled. At the edges there was both curiousity and doubt. "If you would. Those on the isle were not so... Forthcoming... When I asked..." It had always been the same. Hurried visits, only ever to deliver food. No matter what she said, the answer had always been silence.

"I would like to know of it before we go. What sort of place is it...? To you..."

Even so soon after its introduction, Djerba struggled to recall the Overseer's name.

"...Em."
TheImmortalDeity

 

[Eteri]

Fiznes de Lurario
Tags: HTCOR ​

Cold and dry were the headquarters. An unpleasant combination. Sucking every bit of moisture out of the air, and leaving nothing but tingling skin and restless limbs. What a Herculean task; now to stand still and listen to the same words that were previously inked on paper. A lovely contract. Signed by his hand in cursive and stamped with their family's sigil. Another extra cherry on top, because everything with his surname on it had to be anything but simple.

More instructions rained down on him and Fiznes' eyes dimmed as his attention fidgeted over to his coworkers. A blessing in disguise that he had no pupils to reveal his shifting focus or inattention. Miss Ryker was a darling —and his superior— so he'd rather stay on her good side. She didn't need to know that her words were utterly awful and superflous. Truth be told, Fiz was far more interested in someone else's mind; crimson eyes that saw so much even when cloaked to the brim. His grip on the suitcase tightened slightly, before his gaze finally broke away.

Just in time for the entourage to move on. Doors opened to reveal an interior that rivalled his outfit in colour. With rows of guards, as if the state secret was protected within these four walls. Yet, there were just five individuals standing inside. Heavily bound and left to the sharks. Were Fiz a lesser man, he would probably have chuckled.

Instead, he leisurely walked over. Hands clasped behind his back, holding the case, with the end of his coat gliding across the floor. The soles of his shoes clicked with each step, like an endless echo, only to stop as Fiznes came to a halt in front of his destination. Glancing down, he took in his new ward, lingering for a short moment at the sight of his bindings. So out of place among his more humanoid comrades, a faceless blank that matched his own. Somewhat intriguing, if not perhaps a bit on the nose. A joke from above, or a simple coincidence.

Chunks… Does he sink or float? Fiz would smile at him, if he hadn't been told more than once that his rows of teeth didn't exactly project the image of friendliness the gesture usually conveys. Perhaps later. "Let me see what I can do for you," he rumbled, his voice higher than his appearance would suggest. Almost like a shrill. Mouth, oddly enough, still not moving or even visible. "I'm Fiznes. Anything else on your mind?"

 

[TheImmortalDeity]

Em'Yazrvhix
Tags: The One Eyed Bandit
​

Beautiful. That was all Em could think of as its attention carried over to the vibrant purple petals running along Djerba's face. The report was the only reason it knew anything about the flower's origin. Apart from that, Em would be clueless about how dangerous these beguiling blooms could be. Even so, Em had come to appreciate what temporary things seemed to bring into its life. A flower, representing a blossoming existence and tirelessly surviving until its withering end, was an example of what Em admired. It wished to have those qualities for itself one day.

If not for the contrasting sincerity in the criminal's tone, they may have continued to appreciate the floral scenery before it, like a passerby enjoying a garden of roses. And so, shaken from its stupor, Em folded the report back into its pocket. It paused for a moment to let her speak, listening intently to Djerba's request.

Now that it looked closer at the outlaw's face — the part bereft of sprouts — it recognized her fascination as innocent, a genuine question. Her earnest curiosity reminded it of an old friend. Em thought it rude not to meet her intrigue with an honest response of its own. The deathly pale individual collected its thoughts before it spoke, calculating its response appropriately.

"Freedom," it declared. It let the word hang off its lips for a beat too long, realizing that such a concept may have been a sore spot for Djerba. Its gaze flicked away, resting on the demoness offering a snack to their captive before returning to the arcane florist. It tried to salvage the conversation.

"The city is big. It smells of machines and schemes on every corner. No matter where one looks, you can expect someone to be plotting your downfall." It knew its words were not comforting, but it also knew them to be true. "To some, however," its voice became softer, reminiscing, "they call it home." Em stared into Djerba's eyes for the first time throughout their conversation, wishing to ascertain something from her.

"You claim to be innocent," Em stated. It knew this from the reports. "Is this true?"

 

[November Witch]

Hellia

~{The Beginning}~​

Status: Content
Location: Somewhere within CCF
Powers: Inactive
Interactions: AriAriAbabwa TheImmortalDeity

Hellia stood, head bowed, and hands restrained behind her back. Her eyes were closed as she remained in her own head. Well, for the most part. She was meditating or praying most of the time when she didn’t have a specific task at hand. Normally, she didn’t have one. Just being kept in her cell by the staff and given nothing to do. It was no different here. There was nothing to do but stand. So, she stood. Though she was glad to have her original garb back. She wasn’t exactly a fan of the prison uniform. It wasn’t comfortable and was old and worn. But she felt more at home in this. Just like before she was caught and sent here. Then that stupid talisman was placed on her. A simple yellow slip of paper with ancient symbols on it magically placed at the base of her beck, hidden by her hair and veil at the moment. It suppressed her powers to an annoying degree. A restraint on her abilities. Well, some of them…

It was then that the air pressure changed as the thick, airtight door opened. A voice was heard addressing them all. Hellia listened but remained still. Her head bowed and eyes closed. After a multitude of footsteps entered the room, she heard one pair retreat. Some were light, some were like thunder with how they shook the floor as they approached.

And she could tell one stopped right in front of her. She felt warm breath be exhaled onto her face. It sounded more like an animal exhaling than a human. Only at this point, did Hellia bother raising her head and opening her eyes. Before her, a Wendigo rose to its full height and poked a figure atop itself. The small girl was then lowered to the ground, and sat, reading a file. While she spent the next short amount of time reading, Hellia went back to closing her eyes and bowing her head. Though when Sato spoke her name, she’d look at her again. Hellia didn’t introduce herself at first. After all, this girl likely already knew it. She let the girl say all she needed to before speaking up herself.

“I’m known as Hellia, or Sister Hellia by some. Though seeing as you have control of me for the time being, you may call me whatever you’d like.”

Hellia introduced herself, a mature tone of voice with a neutral inflection. If anything, it sounded slightly gentle, but in a malicious, or sinister way. She decided to introduce herself in order to be nice and keep up pleasantries. If she was dismissive or uncooperative, it might negatively impact this girl’s perception of her. Her eyes would flick to the beast before her. It was similar, but not the same as the other ones… She’d look back at the girl as the question left her mouth.

“Unfortunately, I’m in no position to accept chocolate, or anything that requires use of my hands. Though I will accept the offer when I can physically accept the offer.”

While she could technically accept the offer right now, she didn’t feel the need to show off what she could do to anyone else. The less people that knew, the better. Everyone here could still be an enemy once she gets out of this place, after all.

 

[Mistborn]

Prisoner "Redeye" Aliyah
Tags: November Witch AriAriAbabwa
​

"A call to muster eh? Must finally be something they want me to take apart again..." The android would ask herself after the brusque visit from one of the many faceless guards of the CCF, this visit one a welcome surprise to her. Instead of the usual slam of a food tray though it was heavy crate full of familiar pieces, pieces that left Aliyah a bit speechless as she looked into the box for a few moments before mumbling under her breath. "Good to see you again, old friends..." Though after picking her way through it's contents of limbs and blades there would be something that was obviously missing, or rather two somethings of particular importance. "Gods teeth, of course the only thing they don't give back are my damned eyes..." The woman would say with a disgruntled sigh, setting the spare limbs aside before getting to work.

In no time flat the droid got to work disconnecting and unhooking the given augments that hardly earned the title, little more than a pair of peglegs and a clawed hand. The first of her limbs to go back on would be her left arm, socketing and securing the device until it was perfectly settled right back where it belonged. With a stretch and flex the process would go significantly faster now that she had both arms, her legs going on in the same amount of time before one more piece of equipment would be pushed into her cell for the droid to don.

Her replacement grey eyes moved over the mana siphon pack, taking in the features she could see before chuckling. "Course you wouldn't make it that simple Warden... Ah well, at least I get to stretch my legs and breathe fresh air." Those would be her last words as she lugged the massive backpack over her shoulders and secured it's harness around her, letting out a grunt as she felt it activate before she was shipped off to wherever it was they wanted her.

~~~~~​

After who knows how long waiting under the threat of gunfire Aliyah had managed to get a decent look at who else was considered a 'Class 5 Threat' like her... and it was certainly an interesting crowd. Including herself their little group was composed of a low-battery android, fanatical bookworm, enchanted jelly, living planter box, and a plain old human. Even with it just being the five of them they were kept at gunpoint by nearly 40 guards equipped with enchanted arms and armaments that she'd love to get a closer look at... though maybe now wasn't the most appropriate time. Speaking of time, it wasn't too much longer before they wouldn't be alone in this place anymore. At least not alone being the strangest people in the room.

The cast of characters that would be looking over them was just as, if not more interesting than their own, Aliyah holding back a whistle as the figures of the overseers walked into view. The two that caught her eye the most were more for their equipment than their appearance though, seeing how one was also augmented like her and another carried a wicked looking blade comparable to her own, the red saber affixed firmly to the side of the energy restrictor, well within view and in an awkward enough position where practically anyone would be able to react if she were to try and draw it.

As the groups began to mingle and mix together it became more and more apparent that whichever one was assigned to her seemed to be taking their time. That left her eyes to wander over to those around her, catching on the most interesting sight of a Wendigo and three-eyed demonkin introducing themselves to the fanatic amongst them. As she just so happened to overhear their little predicament the android would take a few labored steps into the periphery of the conversation, the sound of both her shifting restraints and persistent hum of her energy pack announcing her presence before her words.

"My hands are free if you're feeling like sharing..." She'd say to the overseer and her companion, the entity and its monstrous presence seeming to not bother her. "...and if the Sister isn't against it I can feed her piece to her." The droid's left arm would raise as she spoke, her hand held out flatly with the palm up and fingers lightly spread. The augment was of exceptional quality, high above anything on common markets, smooth and sleek in it's design with the fingers coming to slight points at the tips. Aliyah's greyed out eyes looked between both women to judge their reactions as her face and body held a relaxed stance, though the corner of her lip facing towards Hellia would hook into a slight smirk.

 

[HTCOR]

"Chunks"

​

• ★
• Ω
• ✉

• 
  
  
  Mentioned
  Overseer Fiznes de Lurario ( Eteri ), ???
  
  
  Location
  Within the CCF
  
  ​
  
  
• 
  
  
  Condition
  Minimal Power
  
  
  Equipment
  Prison Jumpsuit, primarily white with number '9473' stenciled onto chest, and shoulder.
  Boots³
  Ymir's Heart
  
  
  
  
  ​
• 
  
  Notes
  ¹ - Chunks has a fluctuating height and size! Contrary to most expectations, minimal power is his maximum height and size, leaving him to be extremely bloated and tall, and his gel is relatively weak and strained. This leads him to stand around six feet tall, and almost three feet wide! The smallest he has been recorded as, was five foot six and would be deemed of slightly underweight based on his size!
  
  ² - Chunks has minor control over his internal light, which is moreso him making his gel slightly more able to contain the light. This does require a lot of conscious thought, though.
  
  ³ - Chunks has boots for one reason. That reason? It costs far less to have him wear boots than it does to repair the floors due to fires.
  
  

​

​

​

A figure akin to its own, with its own flesh unlike those who walked 'pon shallow dirt. That is what oversaw him upon this journey, and that was who he was to listen to. Warm water bloke, definitely- so not a deep sea critter, definitely still within his domain. A way to go to the sunlight, a way to observe changes other than that in accordance to contract- perhaps this would assist, else it would be noteworthy to pass processing to for now.

Chunks planted his boots underneath him, gel cricking and cracking as he brought himself to his famished height¹. Less breaks in his shell, as he didn't have to look straight up. "On my mind, y'ask? Hungry, wanting to eat either steak er steel, maybe a touch of diesel to burn it down. Oh. Almost forgot. I can't call you Fizzy-pop, I figure?" While there was no face to crack a grin, his voice popped one of its own anyways with his question.

The spirit slowly gazed around the room for a few seconds, taking in the sights of forty folks to put his bulk to shame. With a slight ripple as his internal light dimmed², he brought most of his attention back to the fellow in front of him. While this fellow didn't seem to be as on the side of the spirits as that rascal, he probably should pay attention to a new handler instead of people watching.

​

 

[simj26]

KiraPatience and wisdom, tempered by necessary brutality and strength. Foster the hearts of those who can yet be saved, and spare not the sinner who refuses to change his ways. Those were the tenets that her Master had driven into her skull across gruelling training sessions. She rubbed the back of her neck. The verbiage was simple enough, but what it truly meant was less easy to decipher.

‘Forge your own path.’

That was the final advice that she was given, before he had left her to attend to her new duty.

But what path lay beyond her, exactly, in this DPS facility? She had been to one of these before, and the heavy, unforgiving weight that pressed down on her was just the same as always. No hope. No light. No future. Oppressive and dark. It was only by the Scripture’s grace that she was saved and redeemed. And now, the weight of the white coat of a Panel was draped upon her shoulders, instead of the weight of sin that was thick in the air.

Not a readily available option for everyone, unfortunately. Barely a Panel, only having been recently brought up for becoming one, her voice didn't hold as much weight as her teacher's. Even here, surrounded by what she could only suppose were actual DPS officers, she doubted that anything she said was worth anything. Even as the Commander spoke to them, it only felt as if she was merely an afterthought.

This should have been her teacher’s duty, not hers. His imposing nature would have put these men and women in fear or worry.




She brandished the file that she had been given as she entered the holding room, and cast a look across the myriad of faces within.

Her eyes drifted over to one of the prisoners. Kira blinked, and tilted her head worriedly. “You…” she started, then stopped almost immediately. She shook her head. It wasn't her place to say. Surely, the other woman's charge already had the information.

She turned away, and strode over to her own assigned Criminal, a slender woman with long, raven-black hair. Inwardly, Kira wondered how such a woman with such soft skin could have been a criminal worth being offered such penance.

It was always the pretty ones that were the most dangerous.

Kira didn't offer a hand as she approached. “You are Miriam.” She did not phrase it as a question. It was an affirmation. “I am your Overseer. Panel-Aspirant Kira, representing the Scripture.” She crossed her hands over her chest, and bowed- the standard motion, some would say a salute, of a Scribe. She straightened up, and spoke again. “I will attempt– I will see to it that your soul can yet be saved.”

There cannot be attempts. She will do her duty.

What drew her thoughts away again was the woman who appeared to be a nun. The talisman upon them was radiating pure power, almost on the level of her mentor's, and he was the strongest person she knew of, amongst the other Scribes.

Then surely, if it was overwhelming with such strength, there was no need to worry. Right?

November Witch angel doe [/Imagefloat]

 

[angel doe]

MIRIAM

Miriam's eyes scanned each of the criminals in the room as she hummed softly, swaying back and forth. What an odd bunch. It made her think of her team, a bittersweet feeling taking hold- one that made her chest tighten uncomfortably, but only for a moment. I hope they're okay... Mere moments away from getting lost in her thoughts, a door opening stole her attention. In walked an equally odd group of individuals and Miriam watched as each of them approached one of the criminals.

"This is going to be exciting," Miriam mused, her lips curling into a small smile. She met the gaze of the horned woman as she approached, wasting no time in confirming that she was, in fact, Miriam and following it with her own introduction.

"My very own Overseer? Whatever did I do to deserve this?" She giggled softly, "As you so kindly pointed out, I am Miriam. It is so lovely to meet you, Kira." She bowed in greeting, being as polite as she deemed necessary, before straightening herself out again.

“I will attempt– I will see to it that your soul can yet be saved.”

Miriam's eyebrow twitched slightly and her smile vanished in an instant, ""I fear you're a bit late for that, darling." Her tone wasn't aggressive, nor did she seem intent on arguing; instead, it carried the weight of years of exhaustion, sounding more resigned than anything else. Miriam was quick to bury this, however, and soon her sweet smile returned. "I look forward to working with you."

YOUR GODDESS

simj26

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

Sato Sarganach
Tags: November Witch Mistborn​

Sato tilted her head up at the restraints on her prisoner's hands, face forever unchanging. She blinked. "Oh." The demon lightly hit her own forehead. "Teehee."

She was about to put the sweet back in her bag when mechanical shuffling caught her attention. It was one of the other prisoners, Aliyah, she believed? The android very kindly offered to relieve Sato of the dilemma. And what reason was there to deny her? Unless she had some chocolate-dependent power of destruction she didn't know about... Oh well.

Sato plopped the chocolate in her palm. It was a ball of cocoa delight with sweet caramel hidden inside. All of it wrapped in gold foil.

Then she watched. Stood there, and watched. Her gaze darted between the two women, yet offered no words. There was a slight glimmer to her eyes despite the unchanging demeanor. Maybe, just maybe... she was anticipating something?

 

[November Witch]

Hellia

~{Chocolate}~​

Status: Amused & Confused
Location: DPS HQ
Powers: Inactive
Interactions: AriAriAbabwa Mistborn TheImmortalDeity

The click of shoes approaching caused Hellia to turn her attention to the incoming figure. A feminine figure who seemed somewhat artificial… From what Hellia could tell, her limbs seemed to be synthetically augmented, if not fully manufactured. It didn’t get past the nun that she could move freely. Hellia wondered if this was favoritism, bribery, or something else. It seemed quite unfair to her. Though, she could understand such things. If given enough time, Hellia was sure she could have gotten those around her to lower their guards, or understand that she was no threat, physically. She just hadn’t been here long enough to earn that level of trust… Or manipulate them into trusting her. Whatever was faster, and worked best.

Her red eyes ran down the length of Aliyah, then back up. The red gaze of Hellia met the glowing red gaze of the synthetic. The offer of the other made Hellia smile in amusement. She wasn’t exactly a fan of having people feed her. However, it had been far too long since she had eaten anything with real flavor to it. Having chocolate, even if just one piece, was certainly an alluring offer. Not only that, but she needed to show her handler that she was up for any task, no matter how big or small. If she wanted to escape, she would need trust. Whether it be winning her handler over or getting her to let her guard down at some point. It was all a game, and Hellia had no choice but to play it. She didn’t need or expect immediate results either. She was in it for the long con.

“I would be grateful, Ms. glowing eyes.” Hellia would give the girl before her a nickname. “It has been far too long since I sampled food with any meaningful taste to it.”

Once the chocolate was unwrapped and offered to her, her mouth would part slightly to accept it. Hellia would pay little to no mind to Sato for the moment, as she seemed mostly quiet for the moment. Though Sato… so far, the demon seemed childish. Hellia sighed inwardly. Just her luck to get an annoying, immature runt for a handler. But perhaps, she could use it to her advantage in the future?

All that aside though, this was certainly not the way she expected today to go…

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Djerba​

Djerba's face turned sullen, falling into the mess of shadows cast by the tangle of her hair and Lotus blooms. Her Overseer's words stung, whatever intent which had been behind them buried deep beneath the folds of cloth which masked it. Yes, she confirmed to herself, there would always be doubt. The veracity of her claims were a certainty to only herself. That was part of the reason why she'd agreed to this program, after all.

She desired the freedom that Em spoke of, yes, but in equal measure she sought after that very same thing which the mysterious Overseer seemed to find wanting in her. The truth.

"...How could I be guilty of sins of which I do not know?" Her words were uttered with languish. How many times she'd protested to her innocence now, she could not recall. It was an exercise in futility, that much she knew. Innocence was something that needed to be proven, and for proof she was without anything at all.

"But I am bound regardless... So, if... This..." Djerba pulled at her collar. "Is the toll I must pay for a taste of that freedom you speak of... Then I will, Overseer." Through the haze of Djerba's eyes, a faint ambition glimmered. She knew not what it was not the other inmates sought after from this bargain, but her own desires were simple things. What she had not tasted, she would. What she did not know, she would too. The pit in her mind, dug deep and left unfilled, she would find the bottom of it.

And then as for filling it...

Her eye grazed over the collection of Overseers and Prisoners, all so brimming with purpose.

...For that much, she hadn't a clue.

TheImmortalDeity

 

[BriiAngelic]

Kamari Todd​

<Kamari Todd Requesting Inmate Profile XX217>
<Access Denied: Level Clearance not applied>
<Now Loading Superficial Data>
<GPS locator active>
<Activate GPS Location for nearby Inmates?>

As the programs started one by one speaking into the implant in her ear she scanned through the available information for her inmate. Weapons trafficking, illegal augmenting, hacking of secure networks, domestic terrorism. Her previous ice cold expression broke as a sadistic smile took its place.

This one was nothing more than disgusting trash,
which worked out just as well for her. She checked the restraints level upon the other. 20 percent? That was more freedom than she would have allowed a lowly terrorist but she supposed any lower and she’d be less a tool and more a weight.

<Uploading File Data. Video Start.>

She let the implant in her eye record as the other overseers spoke with their inmates. She kept audio and temperature controls on as well. All the data she could receive would make or break her if something were to go wrong. XX217 in particular seemed rather chatty. It would do well to decide what a safe level of restraint was so analyzing the movement while under each level was of great importance.

<Temperature and Atmospheric Composition normal>

Food? If they wanted to play like they were friends with their inmates well she wouldn’t allow hers to forget their place. A tool was a tool and nothing more. She dropped the smile and let her expression harden into its neutral ice cold state before approaching the trio.

“Inmate XX217, I am your handler. Kamari Todd.”

Her fingers twitched she felt the urge to send a jolt of electricity through her inmate to let her know that she was not to step out of line. Still playing too many cards at once was a horrible idea.

<Voice Recognition, stop recording?>

No she needed to keep that up as long as she could.

Mistborn

 

[TheImmortalDeity]

Solomon

Tags: BriiAngelic AriAriAbabwa simj26 Eteri angel doe HTCOR The One Eyed Bandit November Witch Mistborn
​

ACCESS GRANTED.

As the Overseers and their criminals introduced themselves, the airlock opened. A solitary figure stood at its threshold. It was not the Commissioner nor an individual the group had met before. Despite this, the room fell silent. The surrounding soldiers stood at attention, their bodies tensing like a mouse upon hearing a cat through the wall. The moment this person stepped into the room, however, it became clear that their reactions were justifiable.

Those sensitive to the sort of thing felt the oppressive aura emanating from the outsider's daunting demeanor, akin to a snake entering a nest full of hatchlings. As they pushed forward, a sway to their step, everyone felt an unwavering uneasiness sweep through them. A chill running down their spine, the hairs at the back of their neck standing, or a rush of adrenaline coursing through their bodies were only some of the symptoms they faced. They felt a need to run. Run or die.

For the solitary spirit who lived through many generations, they saw it clear as day. The entity was human, or they were supposed to be. Their features were meaningless, barely worthy of committing to memory, but what clung to them was nothing short of horrific.

Comparable to a gaseous python, coiling and wrapping around every Overseer and prisoner, an unseen flying beast marked its prey. It could've been a spirit or curse, but it was uncertain. The creature predated even Chunks, after all.

To the others, they saw merely a man. His hair was a messy midnight black, the tips blending into a faded gray. It fell just short of his shoulders, unkempt and curly. His face was scornful, glaring with seemingly dead eyes. There was still stubble stuck to his jaw from the day before, signifying a lack of general care in his appearance. His only distinctive features were the scars that marred his face, one trailing over his left eye and the other crossing over the bridge of his nose, meeting like two lines on a graph.

He wore a ceremonial robe, the black overcoat reaching down to the floor, blanketing the gray and white wraps hidden underneath. His lower half donned loose-fitting pants that matched the color of his overcoat, similar to sporty trousers. And finally, he dressed himself in wooden sandals, producing a resounding clunk following each step. When put together, the outfit referenced an old cultic following, though its origins remained unclear.

To Miriam, the uniform was a reminder of that fateful day. The day her world crumbled around her. The day she was captured.

When the dreary figure eventually reached the group — leaving a sizeable distance between them — his tired eyes swept over the crowd, and his hands began to fumble with his clothing before pulling out a microphone. Turning it on, he put it close to his mouth. A little too close.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh. Testing, testing ... Is this thing on?" He shook the appliance and caused the mouthpiece to hit his clothes, creating a sudden, piercing screech. His frown deepened. Eventually, when the ringing halted, he put the device near his mouth again.

"Anyway," came a low drone, his tone devoid of life, "they call me Executioner Solomon. I'll be your handler from now on."

Everyone in the room knew what it meant to be an Executioner. It was a status appointed to exceptional operatives working in the Coldwater Correctional Facility. A rank that is personally given by the Warden, acknowledging their strength. Relating to historical achievements, the death of the self-proclaimed Lion God Mahaset — believed immortal and whose acts of tyranny caused the Crater of Salt just outside Lumani City's boundaries — was orchestrated by a party of only four Executioners. A feat thought impossible.

"Now, if you're all done chattering, I'll give you your first set of orders."

"How amusing," a coy feminine voice replied, though only Hellia could hear it. "To think a mortal could forge a contract with a primeval existence, infantile as it may be." She giggled with glee. "I wonder what kind of carnage it can cause? Don't you as well, my child?" she asked, not expecting a response.

 

[Eteri]

​

Fiznes de Lurario
Tags: HTCOR TheImmortalDeity ​

The sudden urge to stretch, to expand, to fill the room with himself overcame Fiz as Chunks' height reached eye level and beyond. A showcase of strength. A predator's instinct. Otherwise—he learnt—anything bigger can and will come thrashing down to consume him whole. A fear so old that if traced back, it would predate most of his family roots. Yet age had not diluted it in their truth, as seen in the lesser parts of the ocean where savagery was welcomed and celebrated.

Still, it was childish to act upon a custom unknown to shorewalkers. Whose meaning they wouldn't be able to decipher. Uncultured guppies caught above; where the air was dull and the ground their limit. So instead of growing, Fiz let a mere ripple run through his body. Settling his tentacles to wrap neatly around his legs before they could follow the urge to strike and bring his new partner down.

"Do what you must, my dear." His eyes narrowed slightly, a hard glint, then he blinked and the glow softened. Smoothly, Fiz's face returned to a blank state, silent and empty. "Try not to wear yourself thin and brittle. Less you flicker out." He dipped his head, a nod. "That would be a shame."

After that, Fiznes succumbed to silence, letting the voices of his others peers wash over him. To soak them in like eels in wine.

Then the forced silence broke. A menacing hiss of the airlock and the new arrival. With the man an uneasiness set in, trickling down Fiz' body as if he were being skinned alive or facing his own conceiver. If he were a hatchling, Fiznes would have bared his teeth by now, but with more decades on his belt, only the quiet rumble of his hat showed his displeasure.

He looked at Solomon. So unassuming for a man of his title and presence. A grating voice paired with a screeching loudspeaker. And yet their handler, with orders in hand.

"If you like." Fiz waved his hand in a gesture akin to politely letting someone go first through a narrow passage. A clear interest hidden beneath it. To hear what the DPS felt they needed to pursue.

 

[TheImmortalDeity]

Em'Yazrvhix
Tags: The One Eyed Bandit
​

"I see." Its words were neither affirming nor disregarding; they were purely neutral. Djerba's memory loss put Em in a difficult position, and as a result, it affected its efficiency as an Overseer. What use was a vampire that remembers nothing, after all? It faced an uphill battle, but somehow, it was undeterred by the notion. It felt that, with her, it could eventually fulfill the oath it swore long ago.

"I will help you obtain that freedom," it spoke, attempting to match Djerba's resolution with little success. "As of now," it continued, pointing toward her neck, "you have a chance at a new start. Both physically," its finger then switched to aim toward her head, "and mentally." The Overseer then lowered its arm.

"Rather than a toll, this is an opportunity. You only have one option, and that's to take it. In that sense, the path forward is clear as day. You'd do well not to overthink it. Don't you agree?" The Overseer's words felt genuine despite their deadpan delivery. It prepared for Djerba to further their conversation, but it was then that their new arrival appeared.

Its first instincts caused them to put their hand to the hilt of their blade. Its second instinct was to keep it there. Em knew this feeling before, the compulsion to exterminate something where it stood. It called to the anomaly like an old lover. It refused the insistence, instead placing itself between Solomon and Djerba.

The man's following actions — from his lousy attempt at getting their attention to the feedback from his microphone — caused Em's nerves to relax slightly. Upon getting a better look, it recognized the robes the figure wore. They were an ally. Maybe.

The Overseer said nothing and decided to wait patiently for its next task. The being did, however, steal some glances toward Djerba. It wondered what her reply was.

Em supposed that would come at a later date.

 

[HTCOR]

"Chunks"

​

• ★
• Ω
• ✉

• 
  
  
  Mentioned
  Overseer Fiznes de Lurario ( Eteri ), Soloman ( TheImmortalDeity ), ???, ???, ???
  
  
  Location
  Within the CCF
  
  ​
  
  
• 
  
  
  Condition
  Reactor Start²
  
  
  Equipment
  Prison Jumpsuit, primarily white with number '9473' stenciled onto chest, and shoulder.
  Steel toe and sole work boots.
  Ymir's Heart
  
  
  
  
  ​
• 
  
  Notes
  ¹ - The language spoken is typically disorienting for most fleshy people thatcan actually perceive it, as it isn't really meant to be heard with ears.
  ² - Reactor Starting is a state in which Chunks begins to actually kickstart his body back up, typically in response to something that feels threatening. Or in this case, terrifying.
  

​

​

​

Fiznes did not react badly to the calling- albeit to his standing he did. Closer to being in tune with instincts? A subtle rippling of something, threat response? A flame consumes, and naught would stop that. "Flicker out, eh? Naw, rules just says not to be lit like a bonfire unless there's a threat, or I'm on the move. Otherwise I gotta be a candle, because folks don't like weapons revved up, y'know?" With a slight cackle like the crackle of a fireplace, he hunched over to look at the noble. "And it ain't just me who's hungry, nah? Teeth y'got look more like they're for flesh, and not a touch else. Makes good kindlin' in my opinion, but let the geese flutter how they will."

As his overseer listen upon the room, his brand flickered with orange flame, following his own attention to the newborn- a parody?- feeding two chicks- one of added stock, the other a successful cuckoo. There was one who scrawled words as green, speaking to their elder with authority they did not have. But observation was cut short by uncertainty and discomfort- age beyond his elder, or at least beyond his time. A predator that swam in plain sight for one, yet all eyes saw not the snare coiling betwixt their skulls- only instincts that had no flesh to connect to, causing alarm to all who had the minimum amount of attention to notice.

The orange light swelled, bleeding down into his core in defense- attention leaving these structures would be unwise. The metals within shifted back to a configuration long unused, making his hands leak barely a touch of light anymore- the ores hiding behind the gel to keep his hands intact. His light did not brighten to the outside world, gel thickening to make the red hue not bright enough to pull attention of none but his own.

Was this merely a new host, or a particularly well hidden parasite? The Warden couldn't be unable to know, senses beyond what nature and life could bring. It mattered not, but let the others walk forth. To see less of this would be to not watch for safety. And safety, for once, was in question. "Mind letting small and youth walk first, Fiznes? They ain't able to see in depths yet." Following his words was a sound beyond human ears, into the range of high sonar for a surface fish. Or rather, a series of sounds that felt more like a swear or three.¹

​

 

[Mistborn]

Prisoner "Redeye" Aliyah
Tags: November Witch AriAriAbabwa BriiAngelic TheImmortalDeity​

While she wasn't expecting anything in particular from her captors the prospect that this was some kind of cruel joke didn't escape the droid's mind. That would be why when the small treat fell wordlessly into her hand and she was left to her own devices on how to handle it the small smirk that had been on her face would curl into a grin, giving the overseer a slight nod before turning and stepping over to the other criminal. Each step had a... labor to it that was easy to miss from her approach, but now with eyes on her from the beginning it looked as if the backpack she carried was made of solid lead, focusing most of her attention on the movements as she shuffled over to Hellia.

As she approached it became more obvious to the other criminal and overseer that the pack she wore wasn't just heavy or cumbersome, there was some other function it was serving as there were audible sounds of whirring and clicking coming from it, but whether it was some kind of computer or other device wasn't certain from the reinforced exterior. Once she was up to the nun Aliyah would peel the golden shell off of the treat by rolling it between her fingers, holding the chocolate ball between her thumb, middle, and index finger.

A single slight and soft chuckle would follow Hellia's words as the droid would pinch her fingers together, splitting the sphere on the slight point of her artificial thumb like it was a guillotine. One half would fall into her other hand as the un-augmented limb moved with natural speed, unhindered by whatever was impacting the performance of her augments, while the other fell into her robotic palm.

Just as she was about to lift Hellia's half up to her the droid's head would turn as she heard a new voice calling her name, this one much colder and stern, it seemed her own overseer wanted to make their presence known. "Whelp, looks like fun's done. Boss is here. Here's yours Sister." Aliyah would say as she brought the metallic hand up and placed Hellia's half into her mouth, turning towards Kamari afterwards and leaving the pair behind.

~~~~~
​

Coming up to the overseer with her slow, encumbered movement Aliyah would come to a stop about six feet from her new 'handler' as she popped her half of the chocolate into her mouth and stood at ease in front of her. It was a proper stance as well, indicative of some kind of formal training and discipline, leading with her right foot as she came to a standstill and putting her arms behind her back as her hands clasped together just under the pack that Kamari knew made the pose just a bit awkward. Chewing down the chocolate and caramel in five seconds flat before swallowing and letting out a soft breath of delight through her nose as the taste lingered on her tongue.

Even though she didn't have her standard optics to really analyze the details of Kamari her eyes did shift to move over the augmented woman, tracing and identifying her augments before her eyes moved back up to the overseers. Silently their gazes would clash, Kamari's bright blue iris' clashing with Aliyah's own before the androids concentration would break off as the newest figure entered the room. While she didn't have her real eyes enhanced senses there was no mistaking that kind of aura, that kind of raw power radiating out from a single being. Anyone even tangentially related to magic could tell that. Her servos screamed at her to run, to hide, or to rip and tear her way out to get away from this thing in front of her as their words rang out.

Kamari would even see the panels of her augmented arm open up and two of the tubular, snakelike tools slither out before Aliyah's brain would catch up and the augment would retract the tools before closing back up. Executioner, eh? Suppose that makes us his axes... After catching herself staring at Solomon the droid moved her head back to the overseer beside her as she took one deep breath and let it out slow, driving that primal fear and instinct down into her guts to wither and die.

"Are we to be the first to report, Ma'am?" She would ask, her voice dropping the slight edge of cheeriness it'd held and cutting the chatty speech she used with the other two women. She was familiar with people like Kamari, business was the most important thing, and Aliyah was nothing if not a businesswoman.

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

Sato Sarganach
Tags: November Witch Mistborn TheImmortalDeity​

Sato watched quietly, even silently cursing Kamari as she dared to interrupt such a moment! It was like when a TV show gets to a good part, then her dad comes with his obnoxious yelling and perusing of presents! A dark shadow hung over Sato, twitching her third eye. But then... the climax! The shadow went away, replaced by sparkles in the girl's eyes, having won now that Hellia was fed.

"Thank..." Oh. The android was already gone. Oh well.

She offered slow and quiet applause to her prisoner. "Congratulations. You're making friends already." Sato tried to sound excited by bumping the last syllable, instead sounding sarcastic. Oh well.

Now that that was over, Sato yawned and sat backward. Fernsby slid forward, just barely catching her with his hand as her chair. It didn't even look like she noticed. Sato then retrieved some more candy from the bag, a mix of gummy bears and worms. Before grabbing one, she looked back at Hellia. Oh, she mouthed. She looked between the candy and her prisoner. "For me. Not you." And she plopped the gummies into her mouth, one by one.

When the Executioner arrived, the only reaction Sato offered was a hiss because of his failure with the microphone. Solomon had been around for a long time, so naturally the demon knew of him. But after the amount of decades she's been through, the whole thing about Executioners lost its allure. "So... As your overseer..." Sato chewed on a strawberry-flavored bear, sparkling again for that brief moment. "We will be relying on each other. A lot. For whatever that person, Somo, I think...? Wants." She lazily pointed around herself at presumable the Executioner—she didn't check.

"I saw this thing on TV called positive reinforcement... and I think that is a good place to start." Sato slurped up a gummy worm, taking more of their time to chew and swallow it down. "Ow..." She grabbed her mouth, wincing from bitten gums. Rubbing the area, she asked, "So... What flavor do you like? Or do you prefer chocolate?"

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Djerba​

They were well decorated, Em's words. Djerba's eye narrowed as she considered each of them. A choice from a selection of one was no choice at all, no matter how it was sliced and served. They were well garnished, dressed in the promise of new beginnings, but regardless of the Overseer's claims to the contrary, a toll was a toll still.

Her lips parted to respond, but caught in her throat before she could find the words. Slick and writhing, the presence that spilled into the room alongside the new arrival wriggled into each and every crevice of her senses. The needle-point tips of her fangs flashed as she tracked the Executioner across the room, some buried part of her instincts telling her that the man was an existence not to be trifled with. The flowers which consumed her body seemed to bristle, as if a cat's hairs on end, but she made no moves either toward or away from the man.

A few of Em's words rung in her ears. The path forward. She hoped that this one would not be on it.

"...Em." Djerba spoke cautiously, her eye still fixed on the solemn Executioner. "What is... That..."

"...No."

Her breath relaxed, and she cast her gaze away.

"It does not matter." As it didn't for any of them. Her eye moved across each of the other prisoners. The blazing mass in irons. The woman who had given as much of her body to metal as she'd lost to the flowers. The one in flowing robes, her hands clasped tight shut. And the one who looked more poised than even any of the Overseers, even as they all stood as pawns in some invisible game. It didn't matter to any of them.

"I would like to know our first orders." She spoke, just loud enough for the room to hear. "I would like to know, too, where they would take us..."

She had many questions. She wanted to ask more of Em, of the other Overseers, and her fellow inmates too, but this, she realized, was the one question she was the most eager to have answered.

She wanted to know where it was that she was going to look up at the sky for the first time.

TheImmortalDeity

 

[November Witch]

Hellia

~{An Unexpected Visitor}~​

Status: Surprised & Confused
Location: DPS HQ
Powers: Inactive
Interactions: AriAriAbabwa Mistborn TheImmortalDeity

She watched the cyborg with an amused glint in her eyes, waiting for her bronze-brown prize. Unfortunately, the trio's moment of fun was dispelled as he walked in. Her mood soured instantly. That man had subjected her to some horrible things in his attempt to measure her power. Even as the chocolate hit her lips, and was slowly dissolved in her mouth, it tasted worse than it otherwise would have without him here. She was able to keep her displeasure with the situation relatively hidden. If anything, Sato might have simply noticed Hellia’s gaze linger on him a little longer than normal, and the aura around her shift a bit. But it seemed the same was happening to everyone else.

Hellia wasn’t scared of him. With an ally as powerful as the one she had on her side, surely there was no need to be genuinely fearful of anything? In fact, it had been some time since she’d felt fear. Even when on the brink of death before being incarcerated, she hadn’t been fearful nor doubtful. For she had some greater power that would surely help her. Or, if not, then she assumed it was simply not meant to be.

But surely that could never be the case.

Eye eyes flicked back to the android who had sauntered off, and was now talking to her own handler. As the chocolate taste faded from her mouth, she turned her attention back to her own peculiar handler. She clarified the candy in her hands was for herself and not Hellia. It was safe to say Hellia wasn’t exactly holding her breath. She didn’t exactly need, or have a particular want for any candy at the moment, or at all really. She was more of a fan of savory foods, not sweet.

Her left eye twitched as Solomon spoke up, finally getting the mic to work. She looked towards him again, and watched, almost amused at his lack of tact with technology. He was so powerful, but so out of his element with technology. Though Hellia knew it was the Executioner she was dealing with. It was possible it was an act to lower their guard. Though she didn’t think it was too likely. She waited to hear the first set of orders.

That was, until a familiar voice rang through Hellia’s head. She almost got onto one knee instinctually. Something Hellia normally did in Her presence. Though she was able to stop herself. The words that filled her head were slightly confusing. Was She talking about Hellia? Or Solomon? Hellia was caught off guard, as She had never spoken to Hellia in such a fashion. It was odd, surprising, but not unwelcome. She wasn’t sure how exactly this worked, but she decided to reply inward, within her mind, while wondering just what was happening.

M-My Mistress… I would have to agree.

Her eyes flickered to her handler once more as she spoke as well. “I prefer savory foods if I’m honest. However, chocolate isn’t bad.”

 

[simj26]

KiraKira listened to her attachment’s words. Heavy. Dark. Regret filled her voice, her very words. Too many things done in the past that she couldn’t recover from. A path that Kira, herself, could have walked, had she not been brought under the guidance of her Master. She cleared her throat and took one more step towards the woman. “Hythlodaeus 30. There is no room, no passage, no gaol too dark that a lantern cannot pierce.”

“These are the words of the Scripture.” This time, she lifted a hand towards the other woman. “Let me be your light.” Kind words, soft as they are, could not possibly pierce the stone-hard veil that the woman had raised over herself, but she had to try. This was no evangelising attempt - the pity that she felt just from the dreary, hopeless weight in the few words she had been graced with made her choose this specific decision. Whether or not she turned to the Scripture for guidance in the future was up to her, and Kira was not about to force it on her.

That was the path she had chosen.




The long-haired man entered their space, announcing himself to be an Executioner. Master had told her about the involvement of one. He had warned her that such a person would be a powerful foe or ally, and she should not attempt to antagonise such a person. From what she beheld in front of her, Master had not been lying. Though his posture was far from ideal, and his scrungly appearance said otherwise, her instincts screamed at her that this was no normal man. She had felt the same pressure from only one– two other persons she had met in her life.

“This one is no normal man,” Kira said in hushed tones as she sidled up beside Miriam. “He could easily crush any, if not all of us, if we’re not careful.”

She was wary. Executioners operated under the Warden, and the Warden, as far as what she could remember from the Scripture, was exempt from the corrupting forces of Lumani City. If only such a protection extended to the Warden’s branches. Her body tensed in the man’s proximity, an instinctive reaction to someone like him, and someone she didn’t know, no less.

A sign of weakness, perhaps, but animals like her never really outgrew their experiences fighting tooth and nail for their lives.




TheImmortalDeity angel doe