Gloria lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling. She rather hated this room. It was padded on every surface and everything was white. There were no windows. The color was kind of mind numbing. Though in all fairness the padded walls made really steady punching bags when she was angry. As much as Gloria might have hated the solitary confinement cells they were also the only place that she actually felt safe. She was completely cut off front the rest of the prison, she wasn't expected to do anything and while the food dropped in quality from what they got everywhere else Gloria made do.

As she thought the girl with the golden hair subconsciously ran her fingers over small white scars that decorated her knuckles. It was the reason she was in solitary in the first place. Every once in awhile when she was really angry Gloria would punch a wall... or a person but usually it was a wall. She did it because she was fed up with being trapped. Her ability gave her almost absolute freedom. Freedom to go where she wanted, to take what she wanted and to not have to listen to anyone. Being in this prison it was the ultimate hell for someone who was used to being able to walk through walls. Sometimes she'd wind up and hit the concrete in the vain hope that her fist might just go through it. It never happened and while her hand hurt and often enough bled she usually felt just a little bit better.

After the first couple of incidents she'd been taken to the infirmary, patched up and sent back into the yard. After the fifth or sixth they'd started cutting her food rations and lately the punishment had been solitary. They couldn't sell damaged merchandise so they couldn't have someone injuring themselves. They had some kind of healing meta in the infirmary but he always left the scars on her hands intact, a kind of reminder Gloria guessed.

After what could have been eternity or a few seconds or was likely about two days the door to the cell was opened. "Up and at 'em ghost girl. You're going back to the population. Lunch is just about ready." The guard escorted her to the lunch room where various lower members of SOUL were serving. It wasn't exactly appetizing but after several days in eating solitary food it might as well have been a turkey dinner. There was a table in the back that was more or less designated to the factionless. At any one time there were usually about ten of them but Edmund, Gloria herself and the one they called The Messenger were the only ones that lasted. The others usually died off in a weak or two. But there were always new ones to take there place. Screw ups of the various factions that got turned out, or idealists new to the prison that didn't understand that being factionless was a serious struggle. Gloria had only survived because she'd had the mentorship of another factionless girl that had gone through the same trials, Hippolyta. But she'd sold out. Now she was the leader of the Faction the Amazons and while Gloria could say they weren't as bad as factions like SOUL or STEM or the MIR they still weren't good.

Gloria noticed that Edmund wasn't at the table today. He was much older than her, likely one of the oldest people in the prison and she knew he suffered from migraines. He was most likely in the infirmary right now. The healing meta could help but apparently the brain was trickier to heal than other parts of the body. Gloria sighed and dipped a spoon into her gruel. It didn't taste half bad this morning.

Squelch went sound of his food when it hit his plate. Nariv grimaced at the mush, he remembered when he got normal food from school, it was pretty bad compared to the food that he ate at home, but it was better than this crap! The Messenger removed himself from the line, walking into the bustling cafeteria of scary people. Nariv swallowed his spit, he remembered when life wasn't this scary. He remembered when life was friends, family, and school! However, this life was trying to stay alive and keep people from killing you just for the heck of it! How did his life turn up this way? He was a decent person, didn't do anything too bad, but now he is going to be sold into slavery... Slavery! Like, what the heck!? What did he do in his past life to deserve this type of treatment!? Nariv let out an exasperated sigh, staring at his plate as he moved deeper into the lunch room.

He looked around, tables were designated for several different factions. At the top of his head, Nariv could only remember the top tiers which were the MIR, SOUL, STEM, and the Amazons. Everyone seemed to belong to a faction, even the tiny ones, but Nariv didn't belong to any type of faction. He was faced with the challenge of being Factionless, and it was normal that anybody that didn't have a faction would die within the first week or so, but it didn't work for only a handful of people. The Messenger was one of them, he was one of the only people that could use his power outside of the Arena, and he found himself using this power to relay messages to people to keep himself from being murdered! It was kind of weird to be doing this type of job inside of prison, but it kept him from being hurt, so that was something good that come out of it! So, Nariv continued to go further into the cafeteria, reaching the tables in the back since he still was factionless even though he interacted with them quite often. Though, he liked sitting away from all the scary people, especially the MIR, they spooked him the most.

So, as he made his way over to the factionless tables, he spotted someone rather interesting. Nariv didn't really know much about Gloria, but he knew that she was one of the only people that also managed to survive without a faction, however, she had to deal with the main problems of being factionless that the Messenger didn't have to face at all, and that would be random violent attacks. Nariv looked at the filled tables around the lunch room, there weren't too many tables around for the factionless to really sit without being attacked or heckled by the others. So, Nariv plopped himself down near Gloria.

For a few moments, he prodded at his food for just a bit, glancing towards the strange girl before trying to break the ice with a joke that he had seen on TV. "So what's the deal with airline food?"

Having arrived early for lunch as he had done since he got chucked in here, John was tucking in to lunch, which thankfully was better then what the others seemed to be getting due to him being a member of SOUL, at one of the tables that had unofficially been allocated to the said faction. Thoughts soon drifted away from lunch, and the Cafeteria.

John had at first been one of those who had wanted to do the whole 'lone ranger' thing. Luckily that had been smacked out of him fairly quickly after being regularly coerced into the arena. This in turn lead John's thoughts to his initiation into SOUL but he soon shook his head trying to dislodge the thoughts from his head like an animal shacking water out of its fur - not the worst analogy when it came to John by any means.

As John made his way through his food, his mind raced around trying to come up with plan after plan on how to escape, something he didn't doubt much, was something that was on everyone's mind at least once or twice a day - but like most of the time his plans based around him and the other metas being able to use their powers, but with the current set up of the prison, that was not going to happen, unless....no - that was not something John thought would be plausible - but the worst that could come of his idea would be another Arena session to teach him a lesson with suggesting stupid plans - it would be something for John to think over for a while at least until the other SOUL members arrived for their lunch.

Sam waited in line with the other prisoners for his food, he was in a bit of a bad mood this day thanks to some issues that the other factions had given his. Such godless fools, they had no moral integrity or noble causes like The Cross did. Behind him were a couple of crusader's and priests, ready to give him backup in case a fight ever broke out. He was more than capable of handling a fight himself, but it was always to good to show the fearlessness and power of your faction to detract rivals from starting messes.

"Just look at those sinful harpies" the crusader behind him who was named Albert, growled and Sam turned around to look him as food was served to him. The tall muscular man motioned with his head to the faction table for the Amazons.

"What about them?" he asked as he moved along the lunch line to finish getting his food.

"They rub me the wrong way, if they try to cross us then I'll have their sinful heads" he continued to growl.

"Remember what the punishment is for starting fights and killing other prisoners, solitary confinement. Are main goal is to try and get out of this hellhole someday. We need to stay focused and not allow these sinners to distract us, is that clear?" Sam replied to Albert.

"Yes leader" Albert said and gave respectful bow as they walked over to sit at their faction's table. After the priests said a prayer, they all began to dig in and his mind raced with possible ideas to get out of the center.

Jack arrived at the cafeteria after his little skirmish in the arena. Days like this were fight days; days that Jack could knock someone out. Grabbing his food from a couple of his subordinates, he headed to the unofficial SOUL table. John was there, as expected. He seemed to have a habit of arriving kinda early, not that that was a bad thing.
"Right kid?" he called to the 25 year old male as he sat across from him. Granted, John was about 8 years older than him, but he was still a subordinate. Taking a spoonful of the damnable food the bastards at the place were serving, he was reminded at how shit his life had actually become. Yes, it was a bit better than the crap regular guys got served, but still it was bloody awful. Before waiting for an answer from John, he took a look around. Seeing the usual suspects, he looked over to the factionless table. Again, the usual people were there; Gloria, the strange bird one.

Turning back around, he began thinking again. The main factions as of current were The Amazons, STEM, MIR, The Cross, SOUL and the odd little group called Guardians. Then there were the factionless guys, which are always a problem, but then again they were easy to have people turn against. MIR had always had it out for everyone, but they were easily manipulated with the promise of fighting. Then there was STEM, which were just the punching bags for everyone. The Amazons were just a group out to protect each other, so they were mostly useless, and that went the same for Guardians. The Cross were a bunch of religious nuts that believed in helping "boys" with personal problems. The highest probability of resistance would come from The Cross and The Amazons, so there would have to be a way to appease them. The Amazons could be dealt with with the promise of temporary protection, but The Cross would be a different story. Taking out the leader was out of the question, but... Maybe Gloria would be able to do something. If he could get them both in solitary, then he could pass on a message to her, but that might not work. If they'd closed up the hole, there would be no point. But maybe... The Messenger.

"Oi, messenger kid, outside solitary in forty minutes, don't be late" he called back to the factionless table. If he could make him do something to get the Cross's leader away from the area. The guards wouldn't be a problem, so all that was left was the cameras in the arena. Jason could probably sort that out, but he would require more convincing. Some better food might do it, or a couple days off of the arena. Wait, what was he thinking about again? Oh right, John.
"Oh yeah. I gotta take someone out at the arena today. Think you can get Jason to disable the cameras?" he asked John, looking up from the shit food he had been stirring for the past thirty seconds.

Norvandell followed Jackson into the cafeteria and waited in line to get his food. Once he did, he sat down at the unofficial SOUL table and began eating his food. It wasn't to his taste, but food was food, and he wasn't going to waste it. As he ate, he began his routine of recalling the main factions, as well as their leaders and each leader's powers. First up was SOUL, obviously, and his leader was Jackson Stone, who possessed an ability he called Flux Coat. Next came the Amazons, a faction composed entirely of women, and their leader was Hippolyta, who possessed Adoptive Muscle Memory. Her power was of particular interest to Norvandell, as he couldn't quite understand exactly how it worked, though not for lack of trying. The STEM faction, a faction composed of people whose abilities were used for tech purposes, was led by Jason Reed. That faction was of little interest to Norvandell, but he wasn't one to underestimate anyone, especially considering their power lied not in strength, but in other areas. After all, it wouldn't pay to be careless in a prison. The Might is Right faction, MIR for short, was led by Julius Abir, a powerful fighter with a powerful ability. Norvandell had tried to memorize one of his explosive punches during an arena fight a while ago, but it seemed like whatever was hindering his ability still affected him outside the arena, so the effort proved fruitless. Finally, the ones with little importance: the Cross and Guardian factions, led by Samuel King and John Carmichael, respectively.

With that done, Norvandell double checked his memory, making sure nothing was missed, even turning his head to look around the cafeteria in case he did miss someone. Then he remembered, the factionless. He couldn't remember them all, as that was a little more difficult. A few stuck out, though, like Gloria Lieth. Norvandell spotted her at one of the tables, having apparently come back from solitary.

Norvandell lifted his bowl and scraped the rest of the gruel with his spoon into his mouth, finishing it off completely. With that done, he began to focus more on his surroundings. It paid to do this, as it often gave Norvandell slivers of useful information. Nothing of significant importance was happening though, apart from Jackson having John deliver a message to Jason. All in all, it was a slow day so far.

The room was bright. White walls surrounded them in this insidious room. Violet couldn't help but stare off into space, getting lost in what was left of her mind. Although, from the outside, it just looked as though she was staring blankly. Like a dog without a bone.

The food in front of her was plain and stale, she wasn't about to eat it and apparently she wasn't the only one. Her thoughts continued to race about the center and what she was going to do with herself in this place. What kind of hell are we in. That was the only thing she could think about. Everything was so new to her and nothing seemed right about this place.

It was more than just a prison.

Her frustrations built inside of her until she could not longer hold them back. With a swift swipe of her hand, she slapped the tray right off her table. This caused the tray's contents to fly wildly through the the air and landing on several unfortunate passers-by. She would never even notice, nor hesitate. She just continued to stare blankly.

A thud and a voice broke John from his thoughts, as he looked up from his food, John saw Jackson, leader of SOUL start in on his midday meal, after the normal greeting of 'Right kid? John grunted, paused for a moment before answering in words: "Same as normal - for being stuck in this shit hole." The Animal Mimic stole a quick glance to see the Jackson was taking a look at the others who had so far trickled into the room for another dose of slop.

Having finished his own slop (slightly better then other Factions slop) John took to studying Jackson as the boss took the time to get back to what John thought to be double checking the mental list of the whos who and what in terms of the factions, their leaders etc.

after another moment of two Norvandell had entered, followed the process and was soon sitting with Jackson and himself just as said leader had shouted out to the messenger.

"Oi, messenger kid, outside solitary in forty minutes, don't be late"

John saw that Jackson had turned to him again with a calculating look in his eye,
"Oh yeah. I gotta take someone out at the arena today. Think you can get Jason to disable the cameras?"

"Yeah, you command, I do - I spose you want me to offer some of our food rations or time out from the arena as a first offer Guv'?" John still had a half thick accent from the outback, but with his rather British dialect it made for an odd combo.

"But whats the back up plan?" While he waited for his boss to answer, John turned to Norvandell, raised an eyebrow and started to inquire about his day - starting with a long running thing John did. "You ever think of getting a shorter name Norvandell?

It was the music of shredding muscles and popping bones that accompanied Manuel's vigorous training. The Gym was empty at that time of the morning, as most prisoners spent their time at their cells waiting for the midday meal. Manuel spent the points he earned in the arena to purchase some freedoms most inmates never experienced, and while those who did enjoy special privileges used it for luxuries, Manuel only asked for time to improve. His goal was to become a stronger, better fighter so he could continue to live. It was the only thing he knew in life. Might is right, and the weak die.

He stood with his legs apart at shoulder length, squatting backwards to counter the weights he was holding. The bar was full on both ends with odd weights which somehow reached a rough equilibrium, and used all of the loose weights at the gym. Manuel couldn't count that high to know how much he lifted, but it never felt enough. He raised the weights and relished in the exquisite pain it caused him as the muscles in his chest, shoulders, back and arms teared long winding strips of his skin. It was a wonderful feeling of power, one he would never give up on as long as he lived.



There was something fundamentally wrong in the way Manuel walked in the cafeteria. The hulking mass of flesh and scars had a frightening spring to his step - he shouldn't have been that quick, or walk with such fluid movements. He quickly came to the front of the line and asked for his meal. That was another one of his perks - a thick broth, made with vegetables, wheat and slabs of beef floating around, filled a deep bowl reserved for a select few who bought the rights to own it. Such a meal was required for Manuel's routine - he often consumed 20,000 calories a day, a part of his daily life.

He walked by the others - mere targets to beat inside and outside the ring - and sat down at the table reserved for his kind, tge MIR faction. He had a fight scheduled later that day. Manuel's thoughts let him smile and reveal an awful sight. Broken, chipped and crooked teeth, all growing wildly to replace teeth he had already lost, forming a hideous sight reminiscent of a shark's mouth - rows of hungry, hungry teeth... and he stopped smiling, and those teeth ripped into the cooked flesh of his meal.

There weren't many factionless that survived for any length of time. If you lasted longer than a month your were skilled, if you lasted more than two Gloria would remember there names. She hadn't seen many, herself Edmond, Hypolyta before she'd told her soul and this kid. Gloria didn't really like him. Maybe it was because he sold out to the factions. He kept himself safe by delivering messages as a neutral party between the various faction leaders. Gloria would like to think her dislike and distrust of him was because he involved himself with powers that she found unsavory, she would have loved to claim the moral high ground but the truth was that she hated him because his power out of everyone's in the prison still functioned even under the effects of the ability dampeners. Gloria knew that she would easily kill if it meant being able to run free and slip through the foundation of the world once more. Still it didn't hurt her to be responsive.

After Gloria had been removed from school because of her abnormality she'd had a lot of free time on her hands. She'd go down to the pool halls, walk the town but she wasn't foolish. If she was going to survive and make something of herself after she escaped home she'd need the skills that high school taught that she wasn't getting. She'd taken some legitimate online classes but mostly she'd just learned the things that interested her. For a time she'd had some interest in the realm of disabilities, the blind, the deaf, the mute. It likely had something to do with her sister's psychosis but the result was that Gloria could in a limited fashion sign in ASL. She wasn't exactly fluent. In fact she probably knew less than two hundred words but it was enough to hold a simply conversation with a deaf or mute person. It was common knowledge that the Messenger's voice didn't work and he had to borrow everyone else's. Since powers usually developed in the teen years Gloria thought it likely that he also could sign.

Without looking at him Gloria set her spoon down and started to move her hands. You don't have to do that." she signed to him before resuming eating. There was a loud sound across the cafeteria and Gloria turned to look at a girl toss her food onto the floor. Gloria moved like lightning, she dashed to the fallen food picking up the bowl and what was left of the gruel inside. Then she returned to her own place and continued to eat. It was sort of an unwritten rule in the prison that food belonged to whoever could take it and you didn't poison the stock. The prisoners got too little to eat to be able to throw it away like that.

Ew… I would rather have that expired yogurt from who knows when than eat this… thing…

Orihime stared down at her plate of 'food', scooping its contents up with a spoon and watching it drip like lumpy liquid off it. 'Ew' indeed. Just a measly little bowl of gruel that the higher-ups thought would be enough to feed these sort-of normal human beings. Of course, it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

The woman walked slower than usual towards the table of Amazon members; Orihime felt like she wanted to get more insight on the other sort-of normal human beings in this prison. Orihime was what you would call 'brain before brawn' type of person… observing possible opponents before possibly going head to head with them was something Orihime deemed extremely important.

There were quite a few people she recognized at first glance. She didn't really pay as much attention; it was the factionless people that really caught her eye. Orihime even had individual nicknames for these people, just so she could remember them clearly: you had 'Fist-to-the-Wall' Gloria Lieth, who possessed the frightening ability to pass through walls; although it may not seem as scary at first, Orihime was sure most of the prisoners here had experienced some sort of 'clashing' with the young ninteen-year-old. Then there was 'The Messenger' Nariv Arya. Orihime knew him quite a bit, especially since the two shared the same cell as each other. But it was gathering info that was important here. There was also the other factions as well, but the young woman decided not to just stand around gawking at every single people filled table. That would just be… weird.

Orihime walked towards the group of women huddled around the table, placing herself on the small extra space the others managed to make room for. Spooning up the 'food' and seeing it drip from off the metal, Orihime sighed, holding her breath so she wouldn't have to taste this ungodly piece of icky gloop.

Let's eat.

Gloria was just finishing her meal when [i]it[/it] happened. The event that would change her life forever, the event that would change the lives of everyone in the Center forever. As Gloria stood up to leave the entire building was rocked by an all mighty boom. The ground shook and on the other side of the cafeteria one of the walls blew in. Gloria watching in shock as concrete collapsed into the room. The damage to the cafeteria wasn't as severe as the rest of the facility and though the entire room was filled with a cloud of dust the stung the eyes and almost caused Gloria to choke only those right next to the destroyed wall were injured. The rest of the cafeteria looked on in amazement for a single moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

When that moment passed a single thought seemed to reverberate around the room. That the Center was in shambles. And just like that the entire caf devolved into chaos. People started running for the doors, pushing each other out of the way, desperate to be free. Gloria saw her chance to get out just like the others and started to run. She weaved through a mass of bodies, slipping and sliding this way and that in the effort to get through. But they were like rats in a maze. Even with the damage the Center had taken the mutants were still there top priority.

Gloria heard the gunshots before she saw the guards. The Center was designed not to let anybody leave. The corridors were intentionally narrow so that if a prison break was attempted the prisoners were bottle necked. As the bullets screeched through the air Gloria closed her eyes expecting to be shot. But the shot never landed. The heavy, concrete solid feeling that had invaded Gloria's every molecule since she'd been captured was suddenly gone and she felt the small pellet of lead go through her body. Her eyes widened and a gleaming smile with just a hint of mischief filled her eyes. At the top of her lungs she shouted. "Our powers are working!" she evidently wasn't the only one that knew it. Explosions started to ring all around, people flying through the air, jumping off the walls. Concrete was shattered as ice mutants froze it, fires started all over the place and Gloria just ran. She didn't care about the sting in her body as she passed through other living breathing people. All she cared about was escaping.

The Center was rigged with redundancy protocols, even with the dampeners down, the walls were lined with an electric grid to prevent people like Gloria from phasing through them. Though most of them had lost power Gloria couldn't chance it and so kept running through people, forcing herself to the front of the line. When she finally burst through the doors the yard wasn't in much better shape. She saw the Julius Abir causing small explosions with each hit he landed on a guard. The sound of bullets filled the air but the one thing that Gloria took in fulling was that the fence had been ripped apart. By mutants or the initial explosion she didn't know and didn't care.

She wasn't the only one running, crowds of mutants were surging out of the doors, running for cover and for freedom. Gloria saw many of them fall to the guards and just as many fighting back or fleeing. The girl with the golden hair ran for all she was worth. Through the gate with the other mutants and towards the forest outside.

Gloria only stopped when she heard someone call her name. She turned around to see the source and realized it was Edmund. He was her bunkmate and when she'd first come to the Center, before she'd found Hippolyta, he'd taught her how to survive. He was a teleporter and as she watched he vanished from one place to the next till he was standing right next to her. "We need to get out of here Gloria." he said over the noise. Gloria nodded and took his hand. Edmund closed his eyes and the world dissolved in front of Gloria's face. When it reappeared they were standing in a park she remembered from her childhood, Central Park, New York City. But they weren't alone.

All around Gloria and Edmund were other people from the Center. Perhaps nine or ten in all. Just as Gloria was thinking how strange that was Edmund collapsed next to her. "Edmund." she said, searching his face for something. He was still alive but barely.

He smiled "I got them all out, but I guess it wasn't that great for my ticker." Who knew how far they'd come and bringing eleven people had been too much for Edmund.

"No, there's got to be something we can do."

"No time, go, keep these people safe. They're going to need someone to lead them."

Then Edmund closed his eyes and laid still. Looking around at the escapees Gloria's mind went blank. She couldn't help these people. The Center would come for them soon. The silver shackles on everyone's left arm were equipped with tracking devices. They would be here within a couple of hours.