The attacks had petered off in the small hours of the maybe-morning, when either the guard had gone to sleep or finally gotten bored, and it was in these small hours that Shemp was finally able to get some uninterrupted sleep. Just as well, because he had a surprise waiting when he was woken a few hours later by the breakfast bell. There were of pair of stories he remembered reading once, way back when, in a textbook. One was about a man who had woken up and found himself to be transformed into a insect. The other was about a color, a color that no one had ever seen before, drifting down from space. if you took the most imaginative man in the world, had him read both these stories back to back a hundred times, pumped him full of literally a bucket of LSD, and had him describe what he was feeling, it might be a slight approximation of how Shemp felt now. He looked down at his body, down at his hands. They were bulgy at the knuckle, and his hands felt stiff. Like he was wearing gloves that were two sizes too small. He could still feel from his hands, and when he passed them over his body it felt ridged and smooth like armor. He felt bulky, an added weight when he moved his shoulders, a new effort was taken to lift his legs. He felt limbs, limbs that he had never felt before moving up and down, straining against his shirt. They weren't his, and yet they were his, and they moved as he wanted them to. It felt like this wasn't his body, but at the same time felt like this was very much his body. He could tell more by how he felt than what he could see, because he could hardly make out anything through the blobs of color. New color. Colors that no human being had ever beheld before. Where before was just the the uniform grey walls of the room, where a human eye would only make out the grey, was a rainbow of unnatural color. He clenched his eyes shut because he started getting dizzy, his brain trying desperately to analyze all the visual data that it had never had to deal with before and failing. A man, who looked like a sea creature, viewing things were incomprehensible. Taking into account that his maternal grandmother had been African-American and he embodied every one of H.P. Lovecraft's nightmares. He called out, and was suprised to find that his voice was the same. "Hey, any of you assholes from last night still out there? I need a little help again, I can't see anything because I can see**_ everything_**!"

Oliver wasn't able to get any sleep, After 4 hours of pain the Horrible sounds of Parents shut off and a guard threw in a Flashbang and everything went white, the Whiteness cleared up and the dog was gone. Shellshocked Oliver laid on his back trying to get to sleep, and that was a Night of no sleeping,(few hours later, to when Shemp woke up) Oliver opened his eyes and he was still on the cabinet, still shellshocked stared at his surroundings, the place was finally slient except for the distant ring of a breakfast bell. oliver slowly gotten up Still too shellshocked to speak, and then Someone yelled something scaring the crap out of Oliver causing him to jump and hit his head on the ceiling and fall of the Cabinet onto the hard ground with a big SMACK sound.....Oliver opened his eyes and he weirdly landed on his feet. he heard a Unlocking sound, It was breakfast but Oliver didn't feel like eating, So he crawled under his Tiny metal Morgue-slab-of-a bed and attempted to sleep,

Roxy hated punishments. Especially those she hadn't earned. Through the night she had several visits from the guards. Some beat her. Others just teased her. Loud sounds to hurt her sensitive ears. Strong orders to hurt her sensitive nose. Her skin itched like something was under it trying to escape the torture. Her nails turned to claws at one point. She was tired and sore by the time they let her rest. Of course her sleep didn't last long. Too soon she was being dragged at of bed and being told do get dressed for breakfast.

after a while of attempting to sleep oliver came out from under his bed, and walked to the breakfast table and hopped on a tiny empty spot and sat there, staring at all the food oliver didn't feel like eating.

*"Got something smart to say now boy?!" Crack. "Say it again punk!" Slam. "You're nothing but street scum!" Bash. "You little shit!" Crunch.* Zain's whole night was filled with nearly none stop beatings from a group of guards, they had to take shifts as 'their arms were getting tiered'. By the end of it the teen was practically a walking bruise, though they made sure not to break any bones as they couldn't risk leaving any permanent damage to one of the doctors pets. He dragged his way out of his room and into the dinning room, slumping into his seat with a groan as the others made their ways into the room he offered a weaken smirk as he looked them over with his one blacken eye. **"How are the rest of the freak squad this morning?"**

Oliver took a small Glance at Zain. and ignored him, oliver didn't feel like talking at all, Especially to zain. How could Zain walk out of a Punishment like that and Enter so confident?. he must have gotten a weaker punishment. Apparently Human rights Aren't Acknowledged in this tiny Underground hellhole

>He dragged his way out of his room and into the dinning room, slumping into his seat with a groan as the others made their ways into the room he offered a weaken smirk as he looked them over with his one blacken eye. **"How are the rest of the freak squad this morning?"** "Why I'm doing quite well thank you. I had several very _friendly_ visitors last night. We had a rousing time. What about you Zain? Did you you have a good night?" Roxy asked sarcastically.

Zain smirked, though he cringed slightly as he shifted in his seat. **"Oh I had a *smash* last night sweetheart. Some real *side splitters* the guys that were so nice to hang out with me last night."** He said in the world's most sarcastic tone.

"Well, I'm going to be honest, and it wasn't good," Aerith replied as she pulled back one of the chairs at the long dining table to sit on, recalling what she went through. It had been quite a rough night for her. Not long after she had miraculously fell asleep, the door had opened and in came the guards, throwing things at her. They beat her up, threw punches, and kicked here and there. At one point, she wanted to retaliate. Her animal instinct had urged her over and over to bring out her claws and rip her attackers open, but she feared they all would get another punishment because of her, so she forced herself not to, and suffered through the whole thing. She was pretty sure the others were suffering too, since she, who didn't do anything to receive this punishment, was hurt this bad. This somehow brought a sense of comfort to her, maybe because she knew she wasn't being punished alone. By the end of the beatings, she hadn't had any strength to lift herself up to her bed to sleep. The guards knew that fact, so they left her there lying on the floor, battered and bruised, and threw some really offensive insults before they went out. In the end, she slept on the floor. When it came time for breakfast, the guards had kicked her stomach, hard, and told her to get ready for breakfast. It left her more than awake. With a still aching body but more energy, she changed her clothes to the ones she found in her cabinet table, then walked towards the dining room just as the guards slammed open her door.

"I'm going as fast as I can, man, but I am literally the polar opposite of blind right now. Cut me a little slack." An irate voice echoes into the room from down the hall. "You could at least hold a guys hand or something. Though seriously, I kind of get why you'd stay at arms length." A faceless grunt strides into the room, perhaps a bit faster than would be normal, before whistling. "Oh, that's it?" comes Shemps voice. "Thanks a lot man. I think I can handle it from here." What steps into the room is unlike anything that had ever walked the Earth before. He was bulkier than before, his every limb covered with a hard, brightly colored shell. Greens, reds, and blues clashed and complimented, making him stand out like a Christmas tree in the middle of a graveyard. His back in particular was heavily armored, causing him to walk hunched over, and from his shoulder blades sprouted a long pair of limbs that ended in fan like appendages. These weren't the only new limbs on him, as three pairs of little clawed arms lay curled upon his bear chest. His hands were bulbous, his fingers and thumbs extending from the underside of what was basically a bowling ball. His face, though, armored, was still mostly human in its features, except for his eyes. His eyes bulged out from their sockets, covered in a clear glass-like, and in each one as he scanned the room it was clear that three pupils spun in each. Cautiously, feeling his way in front of him with his hand, he made his way to the end of the table, grabbed something he couldn't tell what was, and popped it into his mouth. Blueberries. That collection of color was blueberries, which mean that it was made of the colors that used to be blue. He was making progress. He lifted his eyes and searched for the colors that signified _Dickhead._ "Morning everybody. Oliver, Zain, could you raise your hands and just wiggle them around a bit. Just some movement, I'm good with movement right now."

Oliver raised his Left paw and shook it a bit and then Muttered **I don't have Hands I have paws** Silently.

**"Holy shite! Giant rainbow lobster!"** Zain exclaimed as the mutant walked into the room. It took him a few moments to realize who it was or rather who it use to be anyways. **"Is that you white boy? Damn I thought my night was rough."** He said, cringing as he sat up in his seat to get a better look at Shemp

Oliver began to Nibble on a tiny Chicken wing that was left on the kitchen table *who puts chicken wings out for breakfast?* Oliver thought. Occasionally Glancing at Zain to see if he would try anything.

Right, dickheads identified. Oliver was that blob of...and Zain was that lovely shade of... These things didn't have names, but Zain was brownish if you ignored the pink so he decided that that color was Rolling Stone and Oliver was a color that he mentally dubbed Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap. "Yeah. At one point I think someone tossed a landmine into my room." He replied to Zain, carefully picking up whatever food was in front of him, looking at it, then tasting it to try and match color to object and hopefully find some sort of pattern to work off of. "Did wonders for my complexion though, didn't it?" He raided his voice to the rest of the table. "Everyone else still alive? Everybody sound off, I can see too much to see."