THE WARDEN

No creature alive or dead wandered the halls with more knowledge or purpose of its design than he who ran the specialized prison and research facility known as ORB. Not a single prisoner of this highly developed and well guarded facility did not know this man first hand and tremble when he spoke. Cruel, vicious, and sadistic beyond measure, the Warden ended life with a callous disregard.
His right hand man was known by the skull mask he adorned. 'His presence assures your end' was what the whisperings of each freak here told of his assistant. They spoke true. If Crisis came to your cell in the middle of the night it meant death.
When the Warden entered your cell it would be slow and excruciating.

Now he wandered the halls to see that the carnage had been dealt with and repairs were under way. A dozen and more prisoners had been caught in a full scale invasion by the meddlesome resistance 'S.C.A.R' and left a sizable black stain on his reputation. It was enough to bring him to a boil but let the feeling pass. The raid had come at a cost for both sides.
The ex-general, a leader and close advisor of Lloyd Washerton, had been captured and.. Interrogated. He lacked the ability to smile but it was clear he was trying as the demented man sauntered down the hallways to his personal quarters.
Where his two newest and most important prisoners awaited his play time. The ex general and a supervisor from ORB, captured on surveillance letting armed enemies of the facility in through a hidden access point that had previously been sealed off. How long had she been planning it he did not know nor care. Nobody save himself and Crisis knew she was in trouble. Everyone else thought she has been injured in the fight and given shelter in the Wardens office.

The door slides open without a sound and closed behind him, locking tight with no access granted to everyone but his assistant. The office was large, part administrative and part housing. The desk was solid steel with an oak chair, various papers dotted the desk in organized piles. Minotors adorned the side of the room with an intercom system that recognized his voice for giving orders. It also connected to every single prisoners room.
Off to the side was a private storage room with grates in the floor, but very little water ever washed down them. Not unless it was cleaning the blood from the smooth floor.
In a single chair sat the fugative general, beaten and bruised on nearly every visible inch of his body. About his neck was a collar custom made to suppress super human abilities via radiation. Poor fellow was weak as a baby and unrestrained. The door wasn't even locked.
But fear kept him in that seat.
Crisis had 'softened' the man up and then patched him back to health every half hour or so to the best of his abilities. Then proceeded to soften him some more l.
The warden loved a good show after all and few did it better than himself but he silently applauded the thorough work done. Despite the fact that this wretch hadn't spilled a drop of information.

"I commend you," he began as the door slides closed behind him once more, "enduring such pain for your beliefs, but I'm short on patience." His 'fingers' turned to sharpened icicles in a flash as drove them into the generals shoulder, eliciting a scream of profound torture. The icicles were at such a low temperature that blood froze on contact, sealing the wound as his icicles broke just past the skin. His screams turned to a whimper when the frozen block of ice Krieg called a fist struck the general in the jaw, dropping him from the chair spitting teeth shards and holding his shoulder.
"I.. Will.. N-never.. T-te-ll... You." The man spat a meager amount of a mixture of blood, saliva, and tooth fragments at the wardens feet.
"So be it." Kriegs 'hand' shot forward and impaled the general in the stomach, slicing through flesh and freezing it on contact. But the torture didn't stop there. The Warden was no longer human in any way, his body was a flowing blob of water he controlled entirely and on his command he began to thaw the frozen spear of his hand and force the water into his stomach and flood the general from the inside.
It only took a short time for the captives throat tearing scream to become a water gurgle as his throat and lungs flooded too. "Goodbye, sir. Its been a pleasure" he teased as water poured out from nearly every orifice like a fountain. In a heartbeat the water was completely frozen, every single drop. The look of exquisite pain frozen forever.

He emerged from the supply room shortly and hit a small button below the desk, to which a very small notice was sent out. Calling Crisis back. The button had a built in earpiece attached to crisis' helmet. "bring the psycho with you

While others had shown their unease at the situation, Min had held true to her army training and simply stood at parade rest, face stoic, keeping a subtle eye on the people who had brought them here. The minute there was any sign of trouble, she would attack. Fortunately, there seemed to be no threat; nonetheless, she allowed a slight buildup of energy. Better safe then sorry.

By the time they reached their mysterious destination, Min had built up enough energy that anyone who touched her would receive a nasty shock. The majority of the power, she contained inside herself, however. She didn't want any more accidental deaths by her hand. Deliberate deaths, however... well, she was a soldier. If a serious threat attacked, she would use lethal force.

When the boy with the bright red hair started threatening one of the strangers, Min let out a tiny sigh and shook her head. Brave, but foolish; from a tactical standpoint, that was just stupid. Antagonizing or attempting to antagonize the person in a position of power needlessly? Idiocy. Until they knew what they were dealing with, it would be better to watch and wait.

---

Farran had spent the entire trip with his hands in his pockets and his hood shadowing his face, trying to hide from the inevitable response to his presence. He kept his head tilted down and refused to move at all until the guards made them. Even then, he did his best to stay away from everyone, but it was no use; no matter where he was, there was never enough space between him and everyone else.

Getting to the room was a relief. Farran immediately walked as far away from everyone else as the guards would let him go, turning his back to them. Under his breath, he hummed You're Gonna Go Far, Kid to try to keep himself calm. If his emotions got the better of him, his miasma would start to leak out, cloaking the room in purple fog and frightening everyone there.

When the redheaded boy started to mouth off to a guard, Farran switched to singing softly under his breath, trying to ignore the stranger's aggressiveness. "With a thousand lies and a good disguise, hit 'em right between the eyes, hit 'em right between the eyes." He did his best to focus solely on the song, which was becoming more difficult. "When you walk away, nothing more to say, see the lightning in your eyes, see them running for their lives."

Then the redhead replied to the guard's words with hostility, and it was all Farran could do not to blanket the entire room in his miasma of fear.

Carrie Walsh

Carrie hadn't said much before they entered the room. She preferred to get some sort of read on people before interacting with them, stopped misunderstandings and the like. She vaguely recognized most of them. Fellow prisoners, probably. It made sense that she wasn't the only one broken out. She was glad to finally be somewhere she could use her power again. The idea filled her with psychotic glee, and she broke into a smile that seemed just a little too wide.

She watched as the red-haired guy started to confront the guard. A couple of the others in the room looked pretty concerned. One of them sighed with obvious irritation; Another, a young-looking guy who creeped her out a bit, looked just about ready to run out of the room. Carrie, on the other hand, found it hilarious. She could barely hold back a chuckle as he conjured some sort of flying sphere and started to move it towards the man. Still, she thought it best to interfere, finally letting herself laugh as she called out to him.

"Great plan, Bubbles!" she said, clapping slowly. "Pick a fight with the guys that broke us out of the ORB. Brilliant. Fantastic. Truly, your genius amazes me." she shook her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure that, in your obvious wisdom, you know how we're gonna get out of this building once you kill everyone that knows what's going on, right?"

She wasn't particularly worried as she confronted the man, who she had christened Bubbles, both as something that worked in her head and because he would find it incredibly annoying. In fact, as she looked at him with a smug smile, confident in her words, it was all she could do not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

Harri was overwhelmed by the sudden change of events. In his life not many things had changed, not dramatically, since he had been 12 years old. As he walked with the others, he stretched his arms and was getting used to getting around, moving at all even. The lights felt too bright and the doorways too small. It was hard for him to get around without accidentally hitting someone or crashing through the doorways. He wasn't sure what was going on or where he was, but he didn't want to cause another scene. Accidentally putting his arm through the vehicle that brought him here was bad enough. These people had rescued him from a fate of nothing. Which was the reason he was smiling a little the whole time since he had gotten out of the cell.

Patience didn't come easy, not when you haven't moved enough to wipe your own ass even in almost 4 years. Harri was fascinated about everything around him. Like a child at a new playgroung. He walked around and looked at the lights. He had no clue of who the people around him were or why they were here with him and at first he didn't even pay any notion to them. Not before one of them started acting hostile towards their hosts. Harri didn't know why the man was acting this way, but for some reason it rubbed off on him. His hands became fists and his muscles tensed up. He could feel anger boiling inside him, but he had nothing to focus that anger on. He was about to smash his fists into the nearest thing, but then the blond woman spoke. It distracted him nad made him calmer. She seemed so calm, confident and like she had a private joke going on. Harris muscles relaxed and his hands were no longer in fists.

Being away from people most of his life, he was very sensitive to others peoples emotions and they seemed to reflect on to his mood very fast. He never had to learn to interpret his empathetic feelings.

Then he did the biggest mistake he could have. He slowly watched over the room and saw a young man with thick black hair. He started feeling nervous at first, but he caught a glimpse of his yellow eyes. Some other strange feeling started crawling in the back of his head. A dark feeling. Panic. No fear. Harri fell on to one knee. He felt weak, small and defenseless. It brought the anger back and the flow of emotion that changed in a short amount didn't help him. He swung his fist into the wall and screamed. " NOOO! NO MORE DARKNESS!" His voice sounded more like thunder, coming from really deep inside him, than a regular shout. He wasn't in control anymore, the fear had taken over and the fear created more anger. He repeatedly hit the wall and the floor. He couldn't understand what caused the fear so he had nothing to focus the anger on. "HELP ME!" he screamed as he rose up to both feet, tears started to build up by his eyes.

Victoria sat down at her desk and looked over the papers handed to her hours before. She leaned back in her chair and let her mind wander off. How did she get here? She often asked this question and never got an answer. What changed.

That attack. She remembered it vividly. That man who stormed into the theater she was performing in, screaming and shouting about how much pain he was in. Security was already on him and trying to calm him down, but then the explosion happened. It was a white, hot blur of a memory after that. She remembered feeling hot, then sick, and then waking up in a hospital bed a week after that. The doctors told her she was lucky to be alive, how there were many others injured and even more dead from that event. News portrayed it as an attack, but she felt it was different. She couldn't explain why, but she felt sorry for the man. She couldn't help but think it wasn't his fault. It wasn't his intention to do that. He paid the price for nothing.

Perhaps that is why she joined forces with Lloyd. After she found out about her own powers, she didn't do much with them. It scared her, truth be told. She often heard of miraculous feats that these heroes did, but it often scared her because of the dangers involved. What if some superpowered being wanted to destroy the world? Blow it up just because he was pissed. That much power is dangerous. She was not without kindness and would use her powers when possible, but always as anonymously as she could. Stopping a thief with a diamond attack pinning him to the wall and walking away as if nothing happened, shielding a family from an explosion and then running off before they could question her.

It surprised her when Lloyd found her.

He was a cool customer, she thought. He strolled into her office, got past reception and even got through security. He told her many things, things she found out weren't 100% true. She'd ask him about that, sooner or later. This man who said he was just a lawyer now ran this organization, S.C.A.R, and what they did, she still wasn't sure about.

She shook her head. Focus. She piled the papers back together and got up and made her way into the hallway.

As she exited she bumped into someone and fell to the ground. "What where you're going!" she said to the person, only to look up and see it was Lloyd himself.

Drawing back from the big man, Farran closed his eyes and tried to make himself smaller. "Stop it, stopit stopit." He muttered, breathing heavily. It was obvious that his power had caused the giant's meltdown. "Stop, damn it, stop!" Stumbling into the wall, he slid down it and ended up curled into a ball, hiding his face and trying to calm himself. It was the only way to minimize the radius of his aura of fear; unfortunately, that didn't help him much. He was never calm.

A certain form of anxiousness crept up from David. The prison escape from ORB was more than just an act of chaos. That much he knew. Else they would have been allowed to run around and away. Instead of being rounded up. Judging from the transport and their cells, he assumed that who or whatever organized the attack on ORB must be well financed.

Then some guy with fiery red hair thought it wise to start a rant. Quickly showing off his power. Explosive light orbs. David kept an eye on the guy. With short tempered people, you never know who or how they are going to hit next. So in preparation, he started to gather his power too. Sadly his weren’t invisible. The density of the pack of Zero particles surrounding David began to increase. A sort of nebula like cloud began to grown his back and arms. David hoped it would serve as a deterrent towards any hot heads. In the meantime, he patiently awaited the so called “master”.

Austin leaned against a wall to observe what was happening, his face reflecting pure impassiveness as he disregarded the events surrounding him and instead focused on what was truly important: The individuals gathered inside that room. First he analyzed the annoying men in suits, humans? He wondered, they fit the profile but he wasn’t sure, either way he believed they were just grunts and if an escape was unavoidable cutting through them didn’t seem so hard. He then moved to the others, carefully inspecting each one with great detail as he tried to figure out what they could do and which of them could become powerful allies. Of course when regarding his kind nothing is what it seems but planning who to first acquaintance and side with was a great time killer.

Although most of the people gathered there were eye catchers, as a natural instinct his were first drawn onto the tall blonde with the tattoo. After a brief scan he quickly lost interest as she began addressing the rebellious and hot headed loud mouth. Naturally he also examined him. The kid has potential, he thought as even if he looked like a match with the crazy red hair and wimpy body his demonstration of power was enough for Austin to shortlist him. Next he continued to look through the non-obvious choices like the loner who was obviously evading everyone and the Asian chick but besides just a physical interest for the latter neither managed to capture his attention. His instinct then told him to put the regular looking guy on the imaginary list after giving him a quick glance but it was then when his gaze finally landed on the giant. Frighteningly tall and herculean, the powerhouse seemed like a perfect companion and Austin’s obvious choice as first acquaintance, he was the perfect image of what his race meant.

So it looks like Matchhead, Average Joe (David), and Goliath here are my best possible allies, the sonic user concluded. The mysterious master was still not there, he had time to at least introduce himself and maybe even befriend one of the three guys. Matchhead may not be very open to chit chat right now after what happened so I guess I’ll try to talk to one of the other two, as if on cue and making his decision simpler the universe gave the behemoth a meltdown. Well I guess that settles it, Austin walked over to Average Joe while people started observing the giant's madness. His friend target seemed concentrated on something but Austin still aproached him, failing to see the nebulae forming around the guy. He held out his hand. ‘Austin Colson, Haven survivor,’

The corridors had their reputation as spectacles of unearthly suspicions due to the recent experiences few S.C.A.R. members had from prolonged, unaccompanied strolls between facilities. Nevertheless, to some, it became grounds for phlegmatic minds to muster either the most impractical of ideas or coherent plans embracing a sophisticated deal of processes. It was the latter for Lloyd and for the duration of S.C.A.R.'s post-reconstruction, the corridors became a distinguished setting to establish the flow of his thoughts as well as pull off an abrupt session of tranquil meditating throughout the sequence of his ambles.

At times, it was where specters of the past roamed, embellishing a ghastly mood across halls brooded with the vindictive cries that were left from the ashes of war. After the bombing of this secretive location, many suffered a loss far from what was expected. Some were delivered with a quick, unforeseen execution while others suffered an unyielding burden to survive. Most had met with the former and those who remained were fractured by a surfeit of disquieting torments deemed far beyond their tolerance. Such hapless souls were destined to immense measures of anguish as they saw themselves completely constrained by the clutches of their opposed enemies.

Cogitating about the rubble left by his father's exploits had lately questioned Lloyd about the truth behind the crusade. Never did he become more shackled of anything else than a cause he dubiously deciphered which later ushered a ceaseless manifestation of his unwavering resolve to let Nick's legacy resurface from the sepulcher made by his enemies. However, the lives that were lost either belonging to valiant martyrs or the guiltless who never wavered any involvement with the war, eventually carved a persistent doubt which drove Lloyd to perilous deeds of squandering his control over the crusade. These then kindled an entity of hatred that cemented a frequent misuse of power. It was always directed towards the government, blaming every possible loss towards their ignorance and revulsion against the existence of his father's kind. There were other things Lloyd failed to see as their enemies weren't only the ones who took many lives from war's dominion. But he became more and more withdrawn to accept those transgressions that remained on his father's side thus deepened his anger, later drifting his perception from what was just and righteous.

Uninterrupted thuds of footsteps broke the pervasive reign of silence as three men marched the nearly deserted halls. Lighting was adequate, providing a rather translucent passageway to respective facilities present. However, it didn't entirely cover most of them as some adjacent rooms were built near dim hallways. The maintenance crew started to become conscious about it only recently due to a few known accidents occurring in its vicinity. Eventually, they've established their actions towards the matter but was left partially undone as for other important issues in need of attention. Neon lights were set up against walls, following the shape and uniform pattern of arrows leading a specific direction. They were arranged for emergency scenarios, purposefully providing a routed guide towards emergency exits. They weren't powered by electricity as some situations that would cut the source of it will be a detriment to their use. Instead, generators provide them power and will only function once emergencies become evident.

"It always fascinates me how these corridors were built," Despite being recently strained with court cases, later becoming an impairment to his mental composure, Lloyd's voice remained eloquent, calm and sultry to its inflection. "Our pursuit truly captures the bewitching trails of our endeavors."

One of the escorts gestured in agreement but remained silent all throughout his master's remarks.

"Elijah Pelton, if I'm not mistaken?" To many who held control over a vast number of populace, it was easily deemed as a peevish task to remember names individually. However, Lloyd's incisiveness topped with one of the finest observation skills helped him conquer the familiarization of most S.C.A.R. members.

"Yes, master Lloyd?" Elijah wasn't surprised of how his name was pronounced but the inquiry of his master alone. His voice shook in-between words but managed to pull off a collective and calm response.

"This seems vague to me and do correct me if ever I'm wrong but I remember your mother's service for this faction's cause. Unfortunate that her end was at the stained hands of those whom we despise."

Elijah fell silent again, continuing with his steps until he took his own grit at voicing his thoughts.

"What's done is done master Lloyd. I know she doesn't want me to forever lament her death, so I won't and I vowed to take her strength and perseverance as to honor her good deeds for this faction." A rich unflinching diction filled a void in his lilt. It was something Lloyd haven't heard in a while in which he was satisfied of.

"Well I shall humbly enlighten that vow and avenge your mother. Her good deeds will not be in vain." Lloyd assured, reinforcing his own persuasiveness which was then responded by a silent nod by the escort.

Within a few ticks, the composition of the three men's footsteps was recently blended with another. Lloyd was perhaps mindful of it, at how it changed the sound pattern but his attention wasn't fully lured to it nonetheless. He continued making his way towards the simulation room as his abrupt conversation ceased. As he met an intersecting hallway from his left, he saw Victoria - one of the recent members who have already spent a few days working as an entertainer inside the headquarters. Lloyd glanced at her quickly, attempting to make a noticeable act only to be slammed near each other as Victoria's surveillance was being driven somewhere else, or perhaps as Lloyd believed.

Lloyd didn't mind her abrasive response as it was expected. Instead, he exchanged it with a thin, brittle smile. He held his urge to chuckle gleefully only to have escaped but with little emotion being hinted.

"Ah, miss Victoria. What a lovely time for our sudden encounters. How have you been lately?" From hinting little emotion, Lloyd's tone started to become sly and pretentious in a measurable bit. However, he was aware of it and tried to sound appealing as possible.

"I assume you are well," As far as usual conversations go, Lloyd wasn't exactly patient when it comes to waiting for a response. He was always direct and wanted to get the main point reeled out. "As you know, I have something that I need to do. Fate calls at a very untimely downpour as it never gives me a friendly coordination. However, I might be rude to you for not showing what this place truly is, and if you can forgive my rudeness, might I ask you by coming with me to where I'll be venturing?"

Towards women, Lloyd would likely express his pleasantries to attain his mischievous wit and charming image. However, there could be times when would be more conscious about it that he shows the most obvious signs of disinterest among individuals who possessed no potential. Some instances could let himself pretend that he is drawn to someone's way of speech but would hide the fact of his indifference towards a specific subject.

"Please, this will be an exciting ride. Something you might consider as 'entertaining'."

He reached his hand for Victoria's, waiting to feel the delicate caress of her palms and her agreement towards his offer.




As far as how his powers functioned, Eli actually possessed a calculative estimation of the sphere's explosive power. From how the energies were being cascaded to a sizable amount had Eli developed a certain awareness on his hold towards its magnitude and destructive capabilities thus how he could easily modify the course of his power's trail. This, however, weren't entirely accurate, proven that some situations could lead him out from his own control. There were times when these mustered calculations became a misleading notion in which had led Eli to several mishandlings.

Even so, he was certain at this time as he continued on giving motion to the sphere. It flew around slowly until it was at close proximity to contact after inching a small distance from where the dark-suited man stood. A single touch could unleash the suppressed energies accumulated inside the sphere, later blossoming into a powerful explosion.

"Are you going to tell me now? or are you just afraid?" Eli's voice sounded far from being respectful. He wasn't any of that kind, not to strangers who kept on puzzling his narrow way of thinking.

"Answer me!" He shouted but his abrasive actions still failed to influence any necessary response, not until one of the prisoners started to voice out. One was a resilient sweetheart with a sharp tongue who managed to call him 'Bubbles' which made Eli slightly amused yet annoyed.

"Bubbles?" Eli laughed hysterically, almost as if it was unbearable for someone to hear. It lasted longer than expected and once he stopped, he gathered his breath like he's about to submerge underwater.

"Are you fucking with me? Bubbles? Heh! Is that the best name you can give?" As Eli's concentration deviated from where he was supposed to attend to, the sphere vanished which then made the threatened man sigh with relief. "I should call you Cheapskin then! And be thankful that you are womanly-like, else I'd punch you in the face for ever calling me Bubbles."

Eli later noticed another one of the prisoners who, much to his surprise, acted more of a child than someone of his gargantuan stature. Another was someone who hummed a tune he was definitely unknowing of but his overall attention was spanned over an idea he could possibly associate with the big man.

"The fuck is wrong with that big shit?" He murmured, grimacing over the unnatural behaviour of the big, muscled guy. "Hey! you want to run around like a child? at least run over this moronic woman who called me Bubbles so that her pretty face will have a permanent stomp mark. After that, you can step on this crazy little shit who is humming a nursery rhyme."

With that, Eli left the woman with an insulting smug.

The redhead's abrasive words, while not enough to set him off completely, were enough to cause Farran to lose some of his control. Purple fog began to boil out of him in fits and spurts, coiling lazily through the air for a few moments before fading. Farran tried to make himself even smaller, pressing his hands over his ears to try to block out the noise. As his negative emotions spiked, the radius of unease increased, encompassing fully half of the room. "Shut up." He forced out, speaking mostly to the redhead. Hopefully he would listen.

During the whole breakout Cia had spent her time ripping men and women apart. She was a frightful girl who was enjoying tearing apart her prisonmates. She was the scariest of the inmates thanks to her rather two toned attitude. She was laughing as she tore them apart as well. Many questioned why she was trying to kill them instead of leaving with them. The truth was she had a twisted sense of justice, she believed that the others were far more dangerous to the outside world than she was, thus they should be killed to prevent them from doing any harm. Quite a few that were targeted by S.C.A.R. had not made it out thanks to her.

Cia had been woken up with a jump from Crisis coming into her room. "Do ya have to wake me up like that ya, jerk?" Cia asked. It was rare to see her talk in that manner, but having just woken up she was a bit frazzled. Her helmet was currently off she could use her powers if she so wished. The only problem was everything in her room was nailed down except for a few odds and ends. "And I don't plan on hesitating so stop acting like your better than me." Cia added kind of angry at Crisis.

"Anyways, sure I'll come with you." Cia added as she got up and headed out towards the door. She looked rather calm at the moment, she had a small rabbit toy in her arms as well. She went from from her angered tone at this point to her rather cutsie like one. "Come one mister! We're gonna be late if you don't hurry silly!" Cia yelled to him playfully as she headed for the warden's office. Soon enough they were there, with next to none confrontations. This was thanks to most of the prisoners being afraid of Cia after the escape.

Wardens voice

The warden paced his office, his watery body made a soft squelching noise with every step, as he (im)patiently waited for his prized assassin and his newest interest to make their way to his own personal slice of glory within the prison system. They both arrived, the younger one obviously disliking Crisis for reasons he could not even fathom wasting time trying to decipher. Crisis entered with a salute as was customary while the uppity brat just tapped her foot. He focused on it, stared at it, and brought his icy 'gaze' up to what one could assume was him staring at her in the eyes. Having no eyeballs or facial features was difficult sometimes. The features of its face beneath the hood took on a similar effect as Crisis, creating an icy skull mask outline to which he put painstaking detail into looking upset.
The twitching foot stopped.

"Ms.Putin, so glad of you to join me." he cast a disturbing sidelong glace to Crisis, the skull 'face' turning to gaze at him in turn before returning to the young girl in prisoners garb. "I trust you are curious. Both of you. I can answer that." He arm extended with the gentle sound of a river flowing as it slowly reached the door to his supply room, the water flowed around the door in a shower of sparks as the machinery malfunctioned at its touch even while it froze. It shattered as he tore it from the frame, revealing the frozen and terrified features of one former S.C.A.R general Malone Klein, nearly 3 feet of frozen ice still spearing him through the chest. His skin was icy blue but the look of terror and the silent scream of purest agony was still fresh.
The Wardens features swelled dramatically, his watery form expanding until his clothing were afloat in the sea of his own being, the icey skull expanding with it as he began to visibly boil. "HOW IS IT THAT THESE FLESHBAGS MANAGED TO INFILTRATE ONE OF THE MOST SECURE PRISON FACILITIES IN THE WORLD." His visage launched within a foot of Crisis', a long watery 'neck' attached to his chosen face as it hovered around him before returning to the main body. With visible effort he reeled himself back into what passed for a human body, fingers and limbs in place as the clothing once again took shape to his desire.
"Forgive me. It is not your fault. You have been so loyal to me, my dear Ezekiel. You are the reason our good general over there had such a.. pleasant experience." The whisper of a laugh echoed in the room as he continued in his water speech. "Miss Cia here took a hefty toll on those deranged freaks too I hear. All murder and no remorse.. Do you like killing so much, little one?" He could not resist flowing through his desk to stand before her. Even if she showed no fear now, it would happen eventually. His body unnerved many a seasoned killer in time. "I saw the footage. You are twisted, like we are. I can respect that, but," The back of his hand struck her hard across the face, dropping her to the floor. "THAT IS FOR MURDERING MY PRISONERS." His hand extended further and gently flowed across her wound, lightly cooling to take away any pain as he stared at her. A tentacle of water flowed from the main body and handed her a silver key, placing it in her hand. "That is for killing the demented S.C.A.R personnel. I will punish you, Cia, if you misbehave. But I will reward you too. Like Crisis, from here on out, you are no filthy inmate waiting your time on the chair.." The skull split to form a jagged smile of frozen ice and teeth as he leaned in closer. "You work for me now. You will be clothed as you desire, fed as you please, and can roam these halls freely." The jagged smile turned to a demented frown as he moved yet closer, the complete void of warmth of his 'face' was felt even at a distance. "If you so much as sneer at me I will not hesitate to have your pretty little face torn off." The jagged smile returned in an instant but the cold would never leave. "I trust I have made myself completely clear? Excellent."

The Warden helped the girl up and motioned for her to wait a moment longer before finding her new living arrangements. "Crisis, Cia, I have a present for us. Oh what a good one too. You remember the raid, of course you do, well it was not just the dead man who graced us." He flowed to a small window behind the desk and slid up the blinds, the window behind was tinted and could only be seen through from their location. On a single chair within the tiny room beyond was one ORB Security supervisor by the name of Charlene Waynes. She was a tall woman with a soldiers build to her but a gentle, if stern, look in her eye. Short hair and the standard ORB uniform was all she wore as she sat comfortably waiting for her meeting with the Warden.
"How did they get in? Why did they come? Where did they escape to? When will they be back?" He mused out load, staring at the woman seated far too comfortably. "The bitch in that room has betrayed me. Betrayed US. The only question now.." He turned to regard both members of his little 'team', "Is which one of you wants to kill her for me?" He held up his 'hands' to stop the inevitable request from both of them. "Not now, not now. No. You'll both have your turn I promise. For now.." He hand shot out once more and slammed into a light switch, the water freezing instantly as the lightbulb within Charlenes room exploded above her, eliciting a scream. "Cia, go get setup and return her when you are proper. You represent me now. Do not dissapoint me." The moment she was gone he turned to his right hand man.
"For you, friend, a request. Did you gather any information during their raid?"

Victoria blushed slightly at the fact she just screamed at her boss, but he didn't seem phased by it. She took his hand and stood up.

She didn't know what to think about the man. On one hand, he was always cordial to her and seemed to enjoy her abilities, both superpowered and otherwise. However, she could never get a read on him to understand his true intentions. Did he value her because she was an important asset to him or was she eye candy to keep the people on the ship going?

"All right, lead the way." she gave in response. She realized she was still holding on to his hand and she took her hand back and brushed it against her leg. She smiled and waited for him to continue on his way.

Carrie Walsh

Carrie raised her eyebrows as 'Bubbles' spat words out at her, clearly not appreciating the nickname. To be honest, what he said was confusing at best. She wasn't sure if he wanted her dead or if he was hitting on her. Quite possibly both. On the plus side, he wasn't trying to kill the guard anymore.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the creepy guy seemed to start freaking out a bit, pouring out fog like a broken smoke machine. She felt nervous, uneasy. Whatever he was doing, she decided, she'd rather he didn't. Still, it meant that if she messed with Bubbles he'd probably blame the kid, which she had no problem with. What could go wrong, besides the very real possibility of being blown up? Not enough to stop her, that was for sure.

And so, backing away from the confrontation with a dismissive shake of her head, and an irritated muttering under her breath, she conjured up a mess of shadows, which swirled around his head and plunged him into darkness.

Anyone who could see her face would notice the wide, sadistic smile that crossed it, particularly when, a few seconds later, she changed her illusion, and the shadows floated upwards, transformed into a cloud of illusory bubbles.

David didn't seen Austin approach him. But when Austin spoke, a tendril of nebula shot off his back straight towards David's own arm. Readying the particles for whatever purpose. With almost a snap, David turned his head. In a split second he registered the hand. Then he processed the words. Haven survivor David thought, Haven...What a bloody joke that was. As if the government, or the people, would allow us to live that peaceful. The Haven's Marshall's did more good to the Superhuman cause than the village ever could. But still, David felt sympathy. When Haven was bombed, David watched it on the news. The forums were burning because of the attack. Many superhumans wanted retaliation for it. Others said that superhumans should play the bigger guy, and somehow continue to talk with the people and the government. But everyone was struck by the loss of Haven.

"I'm sorry for what happened there." David answered to the kid. The black nebula receded back when he shook Austin's hand. "David Jackson. ORB-survivor." He said 'ORB-survivor' as if it was nothing big. But he was imprisoned there for 19 years. "So...do you know where we are? I don't recognize it."

Austin offered the older man a warm smile before responding, “Thank you, most people have forgotten what happened, it means a lot that some still remember,” His attention was briefly taken by the growing chaos on the other side of the room before managing to focus again on his new aquaintance.

“From the looks of it I’d say its S.C.A.R’s headquarters, they are the only ones with the economic power to build a facility like this one,” he gave a tap to the near metal wall. “Before our capture, my group, the Haven Marshalls were contacted by someone who promised access to a facility like this one in the future if we joined their collective and I’d put my money on saying this is it,” he took a brief pause as the disorder on the other side of the room became increasingly louder and annoying to his enhanced hearing.

“If the master all these suited men keep referring to doesn’t arrive, I’m afraid everyone here will start disemboweling each other,” he realized as Matchead or Bubbles as the woman called him caused more noise and the giant kept crying.

“Look David, I know we’ve just met but you look like the only sane and reasonable person capable of achieving something around here. I suggest we stick together for now in case things get out of hand,” he truthfully offered. From what his ears were picking up, if that master didn’t hurry something ugly could occur and it was best to plan an immediate course of action.

Cain looked on at the spectacle in front of him. Cain himself was a state, the food they had fed them in prison was nowhere near enough to satisfy the hunger that gnawed inside of him. Cain had lost a lot of weight but still retained his sanity and his self control. Leaving the pod he had woken up in he shook his head sadly at the scene unfolding him. "Some people just don't know how to be thankful for the things they get."

"Cain...Cain...you've got to eat something look at all of these people surely there's some food around here somewhere?"

Cain growled at himself the hunger had a point there was bound to be something to eat here, but he had to play the cool card. These people here were all ex-cons and a lot of them had done some serious things to end up in the prison. First impression were everything, flexing your powers and showing off your skills is a good way to stop people messing with you. However Cain was not someone to pick a fight with someone unless they decided to pick a fight with him. Which seemed fairly unlikely as whoever had broken them out was taking their time to get here.