Lucas eyes slowly lifted open. His head was still ringing, memories of a bright light flashed in his head. Then he heard a name. 'Lucas Kyle.' He assumed it was his. After all, who else could it be? He was the only one in the room. Wasn't he? He looked around the room to make sure. His room was a pristine white color. There were plastic bars covering the door. A small dresser beside his bed, and his bed.

Lucas stood from his bed, letting his blankets, which were oddly thick. Fall to the floor. A bunch of feathers fell with his blankets, Lucas thought that was odd, however he dismissed it. Lucas walked to the dresser and opened it. Inside of the dresser were a few books, an Ipod with classical music only, No other capabilities, and a small box. Lucas picked up the neatly wrapped box and opened it. A small plastic dish with worms was inside. Before Lucas knew it, he had his face buried in it, sucking out the worms. It was the best meal he ever had.

After Lucas was done feasting he walked up to the plastic bars. He stuck his head in between two, well as well as he could fit his head, and looked around. There were many other cells there, he wondered if he was alone. "Hello?"

As Kate slowly started to wake up from the light that was close to her eyes, and slowly started to open them. As she looked at the rod that was hanging infront of her she got quite shovked, was this thing for real?! And yet somehow it felt familiar, as if she always had it for her whole life.
As Kate stood up, she noticed the fishy smell in her room and glanced at a small pond that was in the corner, she slowly walked towards it, and as she looked inside of it she saw different sizes of fish swimming in it, she grinned and grabbed one of the fishes out of the pond and started to chew on it, as she heard a boy's voice yelling "Hello?" thats when she finally looked up from the fish and walked towards what seemed like iron bars, she looked trough it and saw several cells in the hallway "Helloooo?!" she yelled back at the voice, actually just for fun. As she started to munch on the fish again, waiting for a response.

Booker did not have the best sleep that night. Waking up in the morning, his eyes hurt as soon as he opened them, and his backside ached as he rolled onto his back. Because of the pain, he was forced to roll back onto his stomach. After some time of just laying there, he slid his feet off of the bed and stood on the ground, leaving the covers he was sleeping under on the bed. The ground was oddly cold, but he enjoyed the cold feeling.

Several names appeared in his head as he looked around. He didn't know who that belonged to or what purpose they served, but he decided to pick one of those for himself. Little did he know, all of the names in his head were from forgotten times, and the one he had picked for himself was the one that had most commonly used. Booker Howitzer.

Looking around, he could hear two voices calling out to one another. His quick eyes managed to pick up just about everything in the room, which wasn't much. Beside his bed was a dark Mahogany dresser, and on top of it was what seemed to be a relatively small glass case with a variety of insects. He was attracted to the bugs, and opened the case before dipping his hand down and getting a cricket. Booker flicked the cricket into his mouth and closed the glass case, not wanting to let any of the other bugs out. He wished that he could have eaten something larger, but he wanted to preserve those bugs. He didn't know how long it would be until he got more.

Deciding to look into the dresser, he opened up the top drawer, only to find a sketch pad, a few pencils, and a music player with with various songs on it. The sketch pad was quite thick, actually, and it told him that he would either be spending all of his time drawing, or he would be in his cell for quite a while to fill it all up.

Evan... Was that his name? Evan... Evan. Evan woke up with a splitting headache, and incredibly stiff. It felt like he had just been hit by a ... what was the word? Truck? Truck. When he opened his eyes to look around, he found himself in a pure white room with bars at the entrance. That was... Odd... it felt familiar, yet completely alien. Did he-As Evan started to try to remember what happened leading up to him getting here, his headache returned at full force. "Gah!" Curling up into a ball to endure the pain, and closing his eyes to try to block out the spots that were dancing infront of them.

When the pain subsided, he looked around again, this time examining himself, wondering why he was so stiff.

The cause was almost immediatly located, as he saw rock like spikes jutting out of his arms and legs. ... What the hell? What was this? He tried to remember again, encountering the splitting headache for a second time, though the only thing he could remember was that he was not always like this... might not have been always like this. His memories were so scrambled, and he was in so much pain from the headache that he descided to not even try to access the rest of them.

Slowly staggering to his feet, with an audiable crackling noise, Evan completely ignored the dresser as he took one shakey step after another. Making his way to the bars (for he heard some sort of commotion going on outside) with increasingly steady steps, he pounded on them. "IS ANYONE THERE?! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?"

If it wasn't for people talking - and yelling, - Keaira would have probably stayed asleep. Being under the heat of the UV bulb was so nice; an arm and a leg hung over the edge of her loft bed with the other arm curled under her cheek, acting like a pillow. Her actual pillow, along with most of her covers, all lay on the floor, knocked there at some point during her rest. A long lazy yawn stretched Keaira's mouth wide, tongue unfurling and curling while she stretched her body long before arching her back. "So much for sleep," she grumbled.

After another back arching stretch and flexing her fingers, she slid down off the bed. Another gaping, tongue curling, yawn escaped her as she stretched an arm over head and the other to the side to work her shoulders. Her fist kneaded at an eye when she brought it down. It took another moment or so for her to even want to open her eyes. A few blinks, and her eyes adjusted to the room - not just because the first attempt was a little blinding even with the dimmer lighting from the UV bulb, but because sleep still tried to keep them closed.

Although she might not have known what she was expecting, the sparsely furnished room was the last thing she thought she'd see when she woke up. The jumpsuit she realized she was wearing felt a bit constricting, like her body couldn't breathe; she didn't even know why, but it just felt like too much. That dresser had to have something better to wear, so she crossed the room and started looking through the drawers. More jumpsuits, and undergarments - sports bras instead of regular bras - filled most of the drawers with one drawer dedicated to random things like a few random romance novels, an Ipod...She plucked that up before even looking at the other stuff. The suffocating discomfort of such a concealing outfit vanished from her mind when the interest to find out what the Ipod held came into her head.

Flicking through the device, she played around for a few seconds. Techno songs, club/house music, high energy rock and/or pop music - she saw tons of songs she recognized before that lost her interest too. Quickly replaced by a curiosity as to what was in the leather bound book. Picking that up, she breezed through the pages to find them blank. Now that her mind was awake, her thoughts quickly transferred between subjects and she found herself mourning how suffocatingly constricting the jumpsuit was.

"Hey, howmanypeopleareawake? Ijustwokeup anddidanyoneelsenoticehowstuffyitisinhere?" Keaira walked toward the door to her cell while she spoke, not even realizing that her questions slurred together to almost be one word. Once she stopped near the cell door, she undid the top half of the jumpsuit, tying it up around her waist so at least her top half could breathe better in just a sports bra.

Once sleep slipped away, and he opened his eyes to properly push himself to sit up on his bed, Thiago knew something wasn't right. Sure, he knew right off the bat that his name was Thiago, and sure this white space/cell seemed fine...even if he couldn't remember whether this was normal...but his eye sight (compounded) was causing his head to hurt, the feeling of dizziness building up. Closing his eyes, he sat still for a long while, listening to others in other spaces yell, much away from his own.

Shaking off the final bits of dizziness, Thiago opened his eyes again and got up. In this white cell, there was only the bed and bedding, as well as a plain white desk and chair. Making this observation, he noticed two more things that seemed to stick out...the outfit he was currently wearing, which contrasted against the clinical white...and a deep glass container on the white desk. Making his way over to it and picking it up, he could see the number of large sized insects inside of it, all of them appetizing. Hearing more calls from other cells, the other spaces, Thiago stared through half-lidded eyes, through the bars of his own cell. Listening to some people yell, some people chatter, he popped the plastic lids off of the glass container and grabbed two mantis, before covering the container again...feeling some poking in his hand, and shrugging, he shoved the two lively creatures into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.

*CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH*

The sounds of people starting to stir in their cells reached Miles in his own cell. He rolled in his bed to get more comfortable and only succeeded in sliding off the mattress and onto the floor. A grunt followed by a low chuckle and then a moan of pain came from the tangle of limbs and a blanket on the floor. After a moment of shifting, Miles pulled himself out of the blanket while rubbing the bump on his tailbone. He didn't remember that being there before, but he realized he didn't remember a lot of things... He yawned big and stretched out his back before looking around his room, sniffing as he went.

Inside one of the drawers was a book called "The Holy Bible" accompanied by a dull pencil, but before curiosity got the better of him, he closed the drawer and went to his bars to get acquainted with the others. Between the shouts and the "Hello?"s and the slurring girl, he thought it'd be best to answer with a "I'm awake! Over here! Can you see me?" He shoved his arm out between the bars and waved it about. "Anybody know where we are?"

Kyle woke up and looked around. Not easily but he tried. He did not feel at all that great right now.Maybe it was that his feeling was since he was having trouble moving at all. He had no idea why but moving was basically impossible right now.He tried to sit up and that took 20 mintues. Who the hell had done this to him. Honestly he did not know. He tried to figure everything out but it was basically impossible.

He heard people yelling about anything that crossed thier minds. He did not care. "Will you all stop yelling. It is damn annoying." He yelled out trying to make them all shut up.

Lucas smiled. "Hello people!" He felt that he was close to them, yet had no idea why. "Any clue where we are?"

Lucas was interrupted by the sounds of pistons and his cell door opening. In fact, everyone's cell door opened.

Lucas took a step outside and looked around. The room outside here was a much mellower white color, the cells lined the wall of the back and left corner, making an L. There was a large table in the middle, as well as many comfortable looking chairs and couches. There were history and war books everywhere, as well as a few sci-fi and fiction. Lucas was in awe. "Where are we?" He repeated, sounding much more like an empty shell than last time.

"Home." A man (See image at the top), stepped out of a metal door and into the room. "Hey kidd-o's." He smiled. "How are you all feeling?"

"Who in the living heck are you?" Lucas asked.

The man looked offended. "Why, your father! Blast it! You're all my children, and I love you very much. See, a man broke in here last night, we caught him going through your rooms, we didn't know what he was doing..." Father wiped his face as he looked severely stressed out by this. "Do you guys remember anything?"

Lucas shook his head.

"Father sighed and sat on the couch. "Why don't you come one at a time and I'll try to refresh your memory." He said, Lucas elected to go first, and soon was crying and walking away. "Who's next?" He asked.

_

Booker said nothing to the people that had begun to speak, instead continuing to look at the crimson music player that was in the drawer. Although he did have to stand on his toes to look into the top drawer, he was able to see the little machine nonetheless.

Hearing the door open, his head snapped over in it's direction and slowly approached the now open door, looking outside to see the larger room that he was now in, along with two others at the moment.

Still, he said nothing, and listened as the older man talked about them being his children. He didn't believe that at all, since he knew that he would be able to recognize his own father, as well as the fact that he seemed to be the only one in the room that wasn't fused with another animal. He kept his thoughts to himself, though, and slowly stepped forward when the man returned and the other boy was crying as he walked away from him. "I'm next." He said simply, taking more slow and cautious steps to the man.
~~~~~Father~~~~~
Father smiled. "Ah, Booker. You remember your name right?" He asked as Booker sat down on the plush couch

Booker eyed the man and nodded slightly, still completely unsure if his name actually was Booker because of the other names still foating in his head. He was much more sure about that being his name since the man was the first person that wasn't himself to call him by the name. "I do."
"Wonderful." He smiled warmly. He leaned in to listen to Booker. "So, I bet you're head is filled with questions, so, Booker, fire away." He said with a smile. "I'm all ears and mouth."
"Why don't you look like us?" Booker answered almost instantly, wanting to know as much about this man as possible. He looked like a regular human being, and not a human-animal hybrid like him and the others.

"You look fine Booker, don't worry about that." He stated. "You're special to me, and you were special to your mother too. We keep you here to protect you and teach you...Well I do..." He sighed. "I know I keep a tight leash on you kids, but after your mother passed it's been hard for me to keep up with you and I can't bear to lose you. I know you look different, I know you do. It's hard, I won't lie. That's why you're here."

Booker was still skeptical about the man, but decided not to press on that question much further than needed. It seemed to him that the man was avoiding the question, but he still had more questions to be answered. "When did mother pass away?" He asked him, deciding to act like he believed the man about being his father.
"You really don't remember, do you? She passed away two years ago in a plane crash. It was tragic, all over the news." He stated. "We cried for so long. She was...Any more questions?"

"One more." He said plainly, deciding to see if he could find a way to do research about the woman who the man had called his mother. "Where are we?"
"Home." He said. "On an island in the middle of nowhere thanks to some higher up people. See they wanted me and your mother to come here with you two. They think you'll listen to me when I train you." He stated.

He wondered about the kind of training he would receive, but ince he had told the mant hat it was his last question, he simply nodded and took a small step back. "Thank you. I'll let the others talk to you now."

"Alright Booker, oh we'll be eating soon. Your favorite!" He smiled and waited for the next person.
Booker smiled slightly as he walked away, hoping that they would be eating bug or small animals.

At the sounds of hissing, Thiago has stepped back cautiously from the door of his cell as it opened wide, his eye widening in surprise...bad idea. There was no way he could determine what part of his vision was causing this disorientation, there must have been something with his eyes.

"Why, your father! Blast it! You're all my children, and I love you very much." Subconsciously, his eyebrow quirked up and his lips pressed together in a thin, tense line...not that he himself understood it, "See, a man broke in here last night, we caught him going through your rooms, we didn't know what he was doing...do you guys remember anything?" This man's claim of being their father, his father...for some reason, it made him a little ticked off. At the moment, with greater things at hand, and a headache to sort out, he brushed those sudden feelings aside and observed the rest of his 'family'. They didn't look alike, but that seemed fine...but, not one of them seemed to have remembered anything, "Why don't you come one at a time and I'll try to refresh your memory."

Their father went on to talk to them one on one, the first one he finished with was crying. Thiago ignored that, he was sure he could talk to his...'brother' about this later. Another of them volunteered, and eventually...

"I will take this turn." Holding up his hand, he stared the older man dead in the eye while making his approach.

Father smiled warmly. "Hello Thiago." He moved so Thiago could sit without bothering his wings. "You look great, your mother would be so proud. Just look at how much you've grown." He wiped a tear from his eyes. "Your wings, your eyes. Are they giving you trouble still?"

"Your wings, your eyes. Are they giving you trouble still?"

Wings? Slowly peering over his shoulder, as if standing at attention, his amber tinted glass like wings flutter out behind him. They didn't feel unnatural in nature, but the other..."What is wrong with--what happened to my eyes?" There was one thing he was certain of, and that was his vision giving him a headache. "Do you have...something I could take?"

Father watched his face flash to pain of a headache. "Hmm." He said, tapping his chin in thought. "For your eyes, I can get you shades, but that would only really help with the light. "For your headache though, I can get you some medicine. Do you have any suggestions? We could make you some snow glasses."

Snow glasses? "Medicine? Just get me two hits of cocaine and a few shots cachaça..." After a moment, Thiago had to pause and think about what exactly he had asked for without even thinking..."........."

"Thiago, we talked about this." His father sighed. "I know you had the episodes where that was what you did, but I can't let you have those things anymore. What about we give you some soda pop and ibuprofen? Or, I could give you some sleeping pills. However, drugs are off the menu." He stated firmly. "Now do you want the snow glasses and medicine? Maybe sunglasses instead?" His father asked. It was almost as if he cared immensely for Thiago.

It might have been the being-denied-drug-he-forgot-about thing, but being told what to do seemed to tick him off...even if his father was only doing what was best for him. Crossing and uncrossing his arms a few times in a mix between confused and pissed off, and a lot of just plain old uncertain, "Forget it, forget I asked. I can deal with it on my own...tell me, why is everyone's memories so fucked...?" It was quite apparent from the moment he got up to the loud yells, to the individual talks with father here, nobody seemed to remember anything previous to waking up here...

"Thiago, you don't have to be so stubborn." He said. "We can all use some help sometimes, I'll tell you what, you're one of the older ones here, there'll be something coming with your food, but only this once." He said gently. He then listened to the rest of Thiago's question, leaning back to relax slightly. "Ah, you see we're trying to figure that out now, it may be the drugs that the man gave you to rob from us, or it may be a side effect, due to how...different you are." He said. "You're not like other people, you're better than them in every way."

Somebody gave them drugs...? The idea of some man doing that to him pissed him off...it seemed that since waking, a lot of things were just making him more and more ticked off. Still, it was good to know that the memory loss wasn't due to some sort of overdose, that Thiago wasn't a complete druggie...right?

"You're not like other people, you're better than them in every way."

Letting out a snort, he raised an eyebrow incredulously at his father, "I know that already...!" Nodding to himself for a moment, he got up from his seat, his wings stretching out a flapping a little bit behind him as he did so, "We're done here, I have no more questions." ... "If you find the man who did this to use, bring him to me. I will destroy him with my bare hands." Nothing inside of him told him that what he said was wrong...in fact, it sounded just right.

((IM NOT DEAD YET!))

The door to Evan's cell pulled open, leaving Evan to nearly fall flat on his face (he was using it for support). Regaining his balance, and staggering out of the cell, he headed towards the man who called himself 'Father'. Waking up with no memory in a cell, having weird growths on your limbs, and a massive headache was not the best way to start a day, nor did the unusual circumstances endear this 'Father' character to Evan. ... But, he had NO idea what was going on, and if was going to get any sort of information, maybe his 'father' could help him.

Staggering down the path clutching his temple with one hand, and trying to fight off this migraine he was getting, he walked over to the man and let himself down on the couch with a heavy thud, wondering what he was going to be told.

"Evan?" Father asked. Father went to put a gentle, but firm hand on his shoulder. "You don't look so well. Are you okay? There's an infirmary? Do you need to go there?" Father's voice seemed to show genuine worry and care.

"I'm.. Fine. Why. Can't I remember anything, and why do I get a massive headache every time I try?" Evan shook the hand off... he was just.. just.. It was just irritating when he was like this. Eventually his migraine started to subside again, and his face lost it's expression of pain. "What happened here, and why am I like this?" He motioned to the spines on his arms.

Father leaned back in relief and folded his hands together. "You can't remember anything because some sorry low-life broke in here and drugged you. Pretty much your brain is forcing you not to remember, that's probably the headache. I don't know though, I'm not that kind of doctor." He stated. "What happened here and why are you like the way you are? Well this is your home, you were born here and raised here and you are just like you were when you were born." He stated simply. "My son."

If Evan had been able to remember anything, he might have immediatly dismissed the statement that he was born this way as complete fiction, but he was confused, had a headache, and couldn't remember a thing. It struck him as odd, considering he didn't think he was always like this, but he didn't exacly have any proof or reason to disagree with the man, unusual circumstances aside. "Alright.. So.. What are we going to do here? And.. Where's Mom?"

"Well, we've been given home here and I'm supposed to help train you." He stated. "Since you guys are so special, 'they', want to turn you into special people. People that stop bad people. Really bad people." Father said. "For example, the things on your arm are a great defense." He sighed as he heard the question about his mother. He pulled out a silk handkerchief from his lab coat and wiped his eyes. "It's never easy, your mother, she died some time ago in a plane crash..."

"Oh... Right, I think I heard you saying something about that..." Evan felt like he should have been sad, after all, apparently his mother was dead. ... But he just couldn't form any sort of emotional attatchment to the words. Perhapse that was because he just didn't remember anything, so he couldn't really miss what he never thought he had. "Alright..." Evan scratched his head. He really didn't have any other burning questions, prefering just to see what happened. "Thanks. I don't have any more questions." He pulled him self to his feet, and got ready to walk back to his cell, inspecting the spikes on his arms that his 'father' had said would be a great defence. They were certainly hard. And sharp, he found out when he accidentally pricked a finger. Maybe it could be used as a weapon too..

Miles quickly pulled his arm out from between the bars when the door started to open. He stepped through the opening and followed everyone out with his ears swiveling to and fro. Upon seeing the older man, he blanched at the familiar tone he took with them. He didn't recognize him at all for someone who was calling himself their father.

Miles warily traded looks with the others around him to see if they believed this man any more than he did. He stayed back then when it was his turn, slowly approached the man.

"Hi," He said tentatively, "You said you were our dad? Does that mean they're all my brothers and sisters?"

Father nodded. He moved back to his regular position. "And you're my son, I bet you have a million questions." Father leaned back against the plush couch and relaxed. "I'm all ears Miles, just ask away, if you have any worries just tell me. I'm here for you." He went to squeeze Miles' shoulder gently.

Miles' eyes followed the hand that came to his shoulder, but didn't move away from the contact. It was strangely comforting, but it didn't seem so strange knowing that this man was his dad. He smiled back up at the man, his ears perked up straight.

"I was wondering how long we've been asleep. And what that man that snuck in last night did to us," He asked, then started to unzip his jumpsuit, "'cause I have this bump on my back that I don't remember and it's sore, but I don't know if that's because I fell on it when I woke up or if it's always been that way."

"How long you've been asleep? Just a night or so." He said with some worry. "You slept in about half-a-day, it's right at noon." Father said. He looked at a watch just to make sure. "11:58." He looked back up at Miles. "The man, he was caught." Father said. "So don't worry about him, as far as what he did, well he drugged you guys. I assume he meant to rob us, but didn't quite manage." Father smiled.

Father then got up to look at Miles' back. He went to put his hand on Mile's bump. "Here?"

Miles shrugged off one sleeve of the jumpsuit and pulled back far enough to show Father the bump on his tailbone. He nodded when he felt his hand on top of it. "Yeah, yeah. That's it," His eyes widened, "Did the drugs do that? Have I been poisoned?" His ears flattened against his head.

Father chuckled lightly. "No, no. You're fine Miles." He said removing his hand and helping Miles get the jumpsuit back up. "That bump you're feeling is a sign that you're growing as a person. You see, you, my children, are special. You're half-animal. Don't ask me how, but you. Now you, you are half-wolf, and don't let the others know, I haven't told them. You're actually growing a tail, which is wonderful!" He smiled. "I'm supposed to be training you now to be special soldiers and stop people who do bad things. To do that you have to embrace your animal, okay?"

Miles eyes widened again, but his ears came up with his surprise. "Naw, really!?" That was too loud. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I'm a half-wolf?" That would explain a lot of things. He held both sides of his head in an effort to contain his excitement and felt his ears. That's right!. His ears. He couldn't imagine his head without them. He straightened up and beamed at Father. "I will, Dad. I promise," He said resolutely, punctuated with a firm nod, "I'll be the best soldier you'll ever have."

Father smiled. "I know you will Miles, I know." He went to pat Mile on the head gently twice. "Now the training is rigorous and a lot of hard work, but if you do well I'l get you a surprise that you can mess with in your downtime, okay?" Father beamed with pride at Miles, and for once, he didn't feel upset that he could, even though it was a total lie, call Miles his son.

Miles' ears dipped to accommodate the hand that was coming for his head then sprang back up when it was gone. He perked up at the thought of a reward. Well, now he had to do well so he could get that prize. He loved surprises. "Okay, Dad," He chirped and flashed Father a bright smile in gratitude.

"Oh, I should probably skedaddle," Throwing a glance at the others behind him, "Can't keep holdin' you up like this. I'm sure everybody's got some questions." He backed up and bumped into the forgotten armchair. He lost his balance for a moment, but caught himself on the back of the seat. "Whoops!" He chuckled and slid the chair back into place before backing up for the next person to take their turn.

returning from his chat with the man who called himself his father, Booker looked at the others as they left to talk to him as well, and watched the others silently. He tried his best to imagine them without their animistic features, but couldn't see them as normal human beings. he was sure about one thing though, that they weren't all related to one another. Even with being fused with animals, he saw that none of them looked alike, and none of them resembled the old man at all. The old man seemed to aged to have children only in their teens, and there were so many of them that it just didn't seem possible. He kept quiet and to himself as he continued to think, and hoped that something would happen soon.

Keaira jumped back a step when the cell door swung open. She looked around when she saw others were leaving their rooms to go toward the voice, and followed suit. Her hand trailed the wall, trying to understand why she wanted to run instead of just walk like everyone else and that hand helped her keep a bit of balance for trying to keep a similar pace to everyone else. Picking a spot against a wall, she did her best to stand still and not fidget, but she couldn't; she found she kept shifting from one leg to the next. A dozen and five thoughts kept swirling around in her head.

Finally, it got to a point when she noticed no one else was going over to this guy that said he was their father. She looked around, pushing away from the wall and stepping forward. "Hi, can I go? Because there has to be other stuff, right? Right. So I was hoping I could ask some questions. That's okay right? No one else minds? Great," she said - almost as if she didn't take a breath. She walked forward, doing her best not to rush though it was hard which put a lot of sway to her sashay.

She slid onto the seat everyone else had been taking and faced him. "So, what should I start off with? Probably the first thing in mind, right? Like something no one else asked? What did other people ask? Oh! Well, so, if you're you and I don't look like my siblings," she glanced around at the others when she said that, "that means we all have different mothers, right? Because if we all have different mothers, then I was wondering what my mother was like. Because if we all were from the same parents, we would kind of look alike but I don't really see a resemblance. Is there a resemblance I'm not seeing?"

Father laughed. "Oh Keaira, talking at a million miles per hour again." He smiled warmly. "I can assure you you all have the same mother. The resemblance is a little more odd, you see you resemble one another in the aspect that you all are part-animal." He said. "And you Ki, which was what we tended to call you by the way, you look very much like your mother, in fact she babied you a lot." Father went on. "She just would have loved to give you kids the world, I remember she would come home so excited just to see you all." He laughed and began to wipe tears from his eyes.

She didn't remember the nickname, then again, she didn't remember her mother. Minute sadness overtook her features, down turning her lips and pinching her brows ever so slightly; she didn't remember anything, but all that past tense and Father's tears meant one thing. Dead. A foot perched on the seat of the chair she sat on, giving her arms somewhere to rest as her fingers combed her hair. Her eyes watered a little, but she wanted to soldier past, millions of other thoughts on her mind.

Unfortunately, that's not what came out. "So how did she die then? Because you talk about her like she's dead. Was it peaceful? Did we get to go to the funeral? Oh, and was Mom pretty?" The sadness washed away, save for a slight glistening of tears along her lower eyelids, to a soft smile. "I bet she was pretty. And was it genetic that we all are part animal or was there a different reason for that? Did she approve of the different reason if that were the case? If we were made part animal, how long has it been? Oh, even better question than that. So never mind that last one, well - I want to know the answer but not as much as this next one. How old am I?"

"Your mother...She passed in a plane crash on her way to the island we're on right now. It was horrific, she died instantly, but the rest of the people weren't so lucky. We went to her funeral, but it was closed casket. She didn't die peacefully at all... She was so beautiful, I miss her so much." He took out a handkerchief and wiped at the tears that were now streaming down his face. "It was not genetic, no." He said with a light sigh. "We don't know why you turned, radiation maybe? But we still loved you all so much, you're my children and that will never change. You've been this way since birth, 18 years ago."

Father began to cry deeply and was ushered out of the room by some security guards.

Keaira blinked, the frown sweeping back over her features. She turned, looking to the others. "I - that's not my fault. I swear. We were talking and I was sad and he was sad and that is not my fault. And I wasn't paying attention to what you guys asked. So when you guys talked to Father, what did you ask? What did he tell you? Because, I mean, we're all siblings so we should share right? That's what siblings do? We share and we look out for each other and stuff like that? That's what I think we're supposed to do anyways, so I'm going to try to do that stuff."

Booker's eyes flicked over to his 'father' as he was escorted out of the room by some men. He was curious as to what had happened with the most recent chat, and stepped towards the woman. Although he kept a straight face, there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he approached his 'sister'. He only called her that because it seemed that she believed that they were all actually related, and he decided to humor them all for the time being while keeping his true thoughts about them to himself. He had a feeling in his gut about the place that he was in, and was pretty sure that he would be spending a lot of time with the people around him. It wouldn't hurt to get comfortable with these people.

"I had little to ask Father. It seems that I wasn't the only one to inquire about Mother, but his reaction this time was much different when compared to my own discussion with him. Apparently this is a privately owned island, and Father received it from people in high up places. He didn't tell me what they did, or how they got the island. But I for one am suspicious about people just giving away an island like what seemed to have happened."

Evan lurked a bit closer to the group, wondering what was being chatted about, but staying off to the sidelines, not really wanting to be drawn into the conversation by the hyperactive girl. His stony armoured plates made a bit of a scraping noise as they rubbed on each other during his movement, and he wondered how long it would take for him to get used to that... annoying sensation.

When the group started talking about why they were here, or where they were, Evan descided he might give his two cents. "Father said that we were going to be doing 'something' to stop some 'really bad people'... I quote. It seems... Odd, but I can't remember-" He cringed as his headache flared for a moment. "- anything. Not like I really have much of an option but to go along with it, unless you guys have any ideas." Evan shrugged his shoulders nhilistically, his spikes scraping again as he did. ... That was going to be difficult to sleep with.

"So we're on an island? That's pretty cool. Does it matter who gave Father the island? Or why? Because I don't see how that matters. I mean, if we could remember anything - I know I can't and..." Keaira blinked as she looked at the stony plated brother. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name either. But I'm Keaira. Anyways," She looked back at the first brother to approach her. "And he said - " she gestured toward the stony plated one - "he can't remember. So if we don't remember our past why is it so important to know why Father has an island and why people would give it to him?"

She blinked and looked back at the stony plated brother before more than a breath was taken. "Oh, that's cool though. Father says we're supposed to stop bad people? Does that mean we're going to learnt o fight? Wait, do we maybe already know how to fight? Because I don't remember the first thing about it, but maybe we all do remember to fight." She gasped, standing and shaking her hands slightly like it would calm the thoughts racing through her head. "Maybe there's a chance we'll all be like super awesome at stuff and when we get to start trying it we'll remember how to do that. Wouldn't that be awesome? I think that would be awesome."

At this point Thiago had resumed munching on his insects, taking a mantis and crunching down on it as his 'siblings' continued to talk, eyes half lidded and out of focus intentionally. An island, was it...? "We're supposed to trust our father...as he is the only one with any sort of memory or answer for us..." Even saying this out loud for everyone to hear, it was quite obvious that he didn't even believe his own words...and just as he thought on his own words about his father being the only one with 'any sort of memory of answer' for them, he scolded himself with for such dumb assumption, especially when he remembered the security guards. They looked like they knew what they were doing, at the very least...were they always here, or were they brought in after the robbery their father mentioned?

Another thing he considered, at the news of them living on an island, "Is it so odd that we live on an island? Think, we were drugged and robbed by some nobody, even though we're better than other people...what sort of world are we living in? For all that we know, which is not much, such an occurrence maybe common elsewhere off this island Maybe being on this rock is the only way to protect us." The idea of an island as an escape...seemed like a likely enough idea. In fact, the idea that their father was lent the island seemed more likely than their father just owning one. Not that he understood why.