Blue.

Everything was just… blue. The narrow lights shining above the crowd of prisoners put an azure filter on everything in their perceivable scope. Their normally gray fatigues, their hefty restraints keeping their arms behind their backs, and of course, their collars fastened firmly around their necks, negating all of their powers. They were all tethered to the metal floor of the cargo bay, so low that they had to remain in seated positions.

Most looked angry. Some looked sad. The rest looked… complacent.

Armed men surrounded them by the cargo bay’s walls, dressed in pads, pockets, and polyceramic armor plating, just to name a few articles. And even without the light, most all of them was some shade of blue. Even their guns, heavy and reeking of great sums worth of technological implementation. They all stood and kept their guards up, ready to lay waste to the hundred and twenty-nine superhumans they were scheduled to deliver today.

Two men walked along the perimeter. The armed men’s leader, Alexander Haliat, and his right hand man, Elias Winzer. They took a stand before the crowd, and Eli began to make an announcement.

“Alright people, can I have your attention please?” He called out. Most of the prisoners turned their heads towards him, but others didn’t, for their own reasons. He continued on to say, “We’ll be arriving at the northeast shore of Arkos in just a few minutes. Now you all received proper explanation during your detainment, but just in case any of you didn’t understand, I will be reiterating - you’re all trash, and this is your shiny new junkyard home.”

“Eli.” Haliat said sternly, glaring at him through his striking yellow shades.

“Okay, okay.” Eli responded, “This island will act as your new residence for the foreseeable future. You will have no contact with the outside world and it will be up to you how to spend your day-to-day. When we reach the shore, you will be escorted out of this cargo bay and left on the northeast end of the island. Once you’re all beached and we’ve vacated the perimeter, your collars and restraints will be deactivated remotely, and you’ll be free to use your powers again. We wanna keep tabs on how you develop them.”

He began pacing a bit.

“Those of you who can fly or swim really fast or whatever, may be tempted to just blast off back to civilization. Let me tell you why that idea is shit. We’re a long ways off from the mainland and you’ll most likely tire out and sink before you even get halfway there. But even before that, you’ll notice that the air and sea surrounding Arkos are heavily occupied by Adelon forces. And we have a special little something called the Fenza Mk. IV Heat Seeking Nullifier Missile Cluster, which is our way of saying “go back to your room”. We have them stationed on every ship and fitted on every carrier, and no matter how fast or what direction you’re going, they’ll catch you, and send you plummeting into the water, after which we’ll pick you up and administer additional reprimands, then throw you back to shore.”

Red lights hanging above the large cargo bay ramp-door began to shine, accompanied by an audible buzzing sound. “Alright, we’re here!” Eli called out, “If any of you have no idea where to go or what do, chances are someone from the friendly town of Site Borea will come to greet you, get you sorted out. Supply drops full of food, water, fresh clothes, whatever will occur every day at one thousand hours, and again at eighteen-hundred hours. That’s ten in the morning and six in the afternoon for you simpler folk. And remember - at any point Adelon may decide they have a specific use for any of you, and if that happens, then we’ll come get you.”

He said that last part in a rather unfriendly tone.

“Until then, we trust you’ll make the best of your situation.” He finished off with.

The ship came to a halt. The cargo bay door began to descend, forming a ramp resting on the sandy shore of Arkos. Nullifier drones detached from the ceiling and flew over the prisoners’ heads, out into the open, forming a defensive perimeter around the ship. Their tethers deactivated, and the troops began huddling them out onto the beach. Some attempted to retaliate, but they were swiftly dealt with, and thrown down the ramp. After but a few moments, all one hundred and twenty-nine of them were out of the cargo bay and officially on the island.

The ramp began to retract, and Haliat and Winzer could be seen watching them, before the ramp obscured them both. The nullifier drones remained for a moment more as the ship departed, and once it was a fair distance away, began flying back towards the vessel. It wasn’t long before the ship neared the occupied perimeter, far off in the distance.

And at that moment, everyone’s collars and restraints deactivated simultaneously, falling down onto the sand below.

They were free. In a sense.

---

---

Arrivals always came... once or twice a month. These days, rarely more than once. But when she had been brought in, they always came in twice a month, and by the dozens.

But that was a while ago.

Wednesday might've been a bit rough around the edges, but she wasn't completely heartless. There was always someone waiting for the newbies on the beach. Usually with full intent on taking advantage of them. If they didn't end up dead, those who fell to that fate usually ended up at Site Vidan. She didn't want to make her problem there any larger than it already was.

It wasn't hard to chase off most of the scum and other refuse that gathered on the beach. Most people on this island knew her or knew of her. She was, after all, one of the very few third-year inmates on the island. Most people knew what she had done, or at least what she was capable of. The war on superhumans had covered it's fair share of her crimes. So after she made her arrival the temperature in the air had just about dropped and most of those from Vidan, Aber, or the forests themselves had scampered off. The forests were dangerous here. Some people had lost their minds and wandered the woods, others had succumbed to the need to survive by any means necessary.

She had seen some things on this island. While she was certainly not a self defined kind individual, she didn't want to make her life any more difficult. If that meant pointing the newcomers in the right direction, then so be it.

But that didn't mean she was going to walk out onto the beach to meet them. She'd let them come to her. Just past the forest edge, on the dunes she planted her improvised machete into the dirt and sat down in fairly plane view of the new arrivals. These people were likely going to be scared, confused, and generally heavily agitated. To make matters worse, if they were on this island it meant that they were superhuman and had the ability to inflict serious harm upon themselves, others, and most importantly- her. She was not about that. She was in no rush, and they would no doubt come to her soon enough. She'd wait all day if she had to.

It's not like the heat bothered her.

Her head throbbed mercilessly, pounding as she hunched forward, her vision blurry and unfocused. Pooling sweat dropped from the tip of her nose and onto her tattered trousers as clumps of hair, soaked, remained glued to her skin. Whether caused by the ever-growing heat, her unwavering desperation to escape from this god-forsaken place, or perhaps even both, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t really sure of anything any more. One thing was certain, though, was that she felt sick. Utterly, sick.

Her hands were tightly bound against her back, digging painfully into a small mass of bruises that had accumulated on her side. The result of being manhandled and shoved onto a ship like cattle, no less. But... why wasn’t it healing? She raised her head slowly, gazing over the several dozen people surrounding her. They must have been blocking their powers, somehow. Estal tussled against her restraints, fidgeting and pulling at them, all to no avail.

Bastards.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, being the single most interesting thing she’d heard for hours. What followed was basically a repetition of what she had already been told; sent to an island called Arkos, go to Site Borea, daily supply drops, escape warning, and oh yes, a meaningless insult thrown in. How exciting.

A sudden shudder followed by a buzz stirred her alert as light poured through the declining ramp. What proceeded was a clumsy stampede as everyone was shoved off and onto the sand below. It took a few moments to collect herself, adjust to the new, harsh lighting and scramble onto her feet as the rest of the superhumans bulldozed over her. She was dazed, almost unaware as her restraints released and fell to the ground.

Hastily, she clawed at her shirt, pulling it slightly to reveal a meagre clump of bruises. It was already starting to heal. Thank God. She sigh, releasing the fabric from her grasp. At least she had her powers back. Wait, powers? Estal looked around skittishly, never before had she been so close to this many superhumans. If she’d got her powers back, then so had they. She knew she had to get away from the crowd, reciting the place they were told to go; Site Borea.

Estal started to walk away, stumbling across the sand. Where the hell's Site Borea? She tried searching the area, but it all looked the same. They couldn’t have given them a map, maybe? What were they supposed to do? She could feel herself panicking, her breaths becoming shallow and fast. Quickly, she stopped, grasping what little dignity and self-control she had left in an attempt to calm herself down. It was useless wondering in any old direction, she had to think of a plan. She had to ask someone for help. Anyone.

Now slightly more relaxed, she scanned the area for someone who looked like they could be helpful. It wasn’t long before she spotted a figure, sitting near the edge of what seemed to be a forest. Obviously they weren’t on the ship, so they must know where she had to go. Surely.

Estal began to trek towards the figure, acutely aware of her own anxiety building up. She could see the woman clearly now, only being just a distance away. Estal felt slightly intimidated, and frankly, fearful. Who knew what some of these superhumans were capable of?

With a half-hearted stutter, Estal finally spoke. “Erm, hey. I, er...” She stopped, pointing towards the crowd of new arrivals. The woman probably knew where she’d come from, of course. “I, er... Site Borea?” Her attempt to contain her nervousness was poorly executed, resulting in a utterance of awkward gestures. She wasn’t one to articulate herself well with strangers, however, she’d never been completely lost for words like this before.

---

---

MENTIONED: @JunkMail @Ginger Kollie

---

Franco watched from the forest's edge. He blended in quite well among the shrubs and tropical leaves there, his dirty clothing appearing like plastic bags clinging to the low-hanging branches of a tree. He chewed on a four-inch white quill that looked like it came off of a gigantic cactus. He watched as the newcomers were herded onto the beach in droves. None of them seemed particularly dangerous. He looked around at the forest around him, watching for others. No one else seemed to be around. He puffed out a sigh of relief and knelt down. He took off his white stetson and looked up at the sky. It was a captivating shade of blue today, and the white heat of the sun cascaded down unimpeded.

He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on his face. The chloroplasts in his skin cells went to work converting the sunlight into chemical energy, glucose to ATP to energy. Franco remembered studying biology in college. He had been a business major, but his school required him to take a science class. That business major right now was about as useful as an art history major. His skin flushed a deeper shade of green. He spat at the sand and stuck the quill he was chewing on into the root of a palm tree. Then he put his hat back on and melted into the greenery. He had to get back to his home soon, or else it might end up belonging to someone else.

---

---

The air around the vessel transporting them to 'No-Man's land' was agitatedly nervous. Almost all the prisoners were edgy and irritable, as even crossing their glances would either result in an animalistic growl, an irate glare or they just tersely looked away in skittishness. Unfriendly, unfriendly thought one of the prisoners, his back lazily leaning against the walls of the ship. He had a bored look on his face, as if the ship was just stuffy and overcrowded, which it was. He didn't have the perplexion of a prisoner being basically exiled to death on a famously dangerous island- Arkos.

Jake was one of the few prisoners that had a look of apathy. Well, it isn't to be unexpected as he did willingly give himself up, and he was given... slightly better treatment since he didn't fight back and simply complied, letting them whisk him away on their magic ride. A long yawn bequeath the young man's mouth, his eyes looking idly on the two men who looked important. Even then Jack was only half-listening to them. He had also discovered that his powers were being suppressed somehow, which were most likely the work of the rather fashionable neck brace they were wearing.

It seems like the explanation was nearing the end, with an insult to end with. Much like a cherry on top, Jack found it slightly humerous. The explanation were shallow... at best. It gave the prisoners a rough understanding of the island and its locations, somehow Jack knew they just got complacent and lazy, so he would have to gather information from the island-dwellers themselves. Something Jack wasn't exactly comfortable with, he figures some of them wouldn't be ballistic crazy, but there would certainly be more than a few.

When the ship opened the floodgates towards Arkos, everyone dashed madly towards the light of desolation. To avoid being pushed and potentially stampeded on, Jack stayed back for a little while, much like waiting for people to leave the movie theater. He was soon being rudely pushed out by one of the officers, and found himself down on the sand. The clamps on his arm and neck came off as soon as the ship left. Rubbing his wrists tenderly he looked around at the bewildered island-mates. Lastly, he grabbed a piece of razor he had embedded in his left skin and cut his index finger, the blood swirled around, akin to a dog happy to see it's master. "Powers are back, great." he mumbled before closing off the cut.

The callous and heavy-breathing around him was starting to get on Jack's nerves. Being useless and neurotic won't help anyone, but he kept his mouth tightly shut as he remembered the site- Site Borea, or something. He looked around, past the disconcerted crowd and saw a lone figure up on the trees. Heh, straight outta a novel Jake thought with a half-grimace. He looked rather experienced so the question of where the site was may be answered. He jogged up to him, noticing his greenish hue of skin- almost plantlike. Jake actually almost missed him had it not for his shifting movements. What a peculiar man, he certainly had caught the curiosity of Jack.

"Hello, fellow not-so indigenous, and hopefully non-hostile islander!" Jake called out, a small smile etched on his face to appear 'friendly', and a full-handed wave that almost looked to be in jeer, "Would'ya mind pointing out the general direction of 'Site Boreas', was it? Seems like you're in a rush to leave, so answer me this and I'll get out of your hair."

---

@Inertia

A flurry of quills fired in the direction of the new-coming voice. Franco darted up from where he was crouched in the underbrush, the hairs of his beard stuck up into long quills. The hairs on his forearms transformed into razors. Eight long, thick spines shot up from his knuckles, four on each hand. This dumb sonofabitch had to be new around here. Franco sighed. The kid looked fairly harmless. He obviously just didn't get how things worked around here. Franco felt almost sorry for him, but he didn't let it show. He shrugged and stood up straight. As he did, the quills laid down flat as hairs again.

"Rule number one, kid," he said in a gravely, tough voice. "Don't sneak up on anybody. It's a great way to get a faceful of something awful nasty." Franco waved his right hand. A quill shot out from his forearm and stuck in a palm tree ten feet southwest of where they were standing. "Site Borea is that way, kid. It's a pretty short walk. Just follow the river down. It's hard to miss." He pointed past the palm tree. The trickle of water could be heard through the rustle of the leaves in the trees.

---

When the gardener behind her spoke, it took all a good portion of Wednesday's constitution not to jump. She did however waste no time in grabbing her machete, and was up on her feet pointing the blade at the man in an instant. When she noticed who it was, she sheathed the weapon back onto her hip. She didn't know this man, but she had heard talk of some idiot offering people tea at Haeda. So she knew that he wasn't a threat. At least not currently. To make matters even more interesting, one of the newbies had stopped by.

“I, er... Site Borea?”

She was scared. That much was understandable. She was in a new environment in a strange place with a weird ass man offering her a tea packet and an angry looking woman who nearly hacked the man's the aforementioned man's head off with a machete. Not exactly the warmest welcome. Something about the girl's tone pulled at her heartstrings- and something about her liked this girl. Whether it be because her timidness reminded her of her baby sister or the fact that she was beta enough to maybe follow her around was still in the air.

"Borea's where you go if you want populace." she said turning her stern and overall unimpressed gaze from the mad-hatter's tea brewer to the woman in question. "Haeda's where you get food. It's where I'm going to restock." she explained.

She turned her gaze back to the man.

"Hey you, plant-bitch. This-" she said, motioning down to the man's tea bag, "-is why people talk shit about you when you're not around. It's a hundred fucking degrees in the shade and you're offering someone tea? I bet she's sweating like a dyslexic on a countdown. Think, please and thank you." She turned away from the man back to the woman and sighed.

"Borea's due northeast about a mile. Your choice on where you want to go."

MENTIONED: @LazyEgg @Ginger Kollie

The welcoming from the man surprised her, she had been completely oblivious to him standing there. She was about to thank him for his directions before his offer had fully registered. Teabags? What? Estal stared at him for a moment, the idea of it being a joke sprung to mind. But the man’s serious, yet warming voice made her question otherwise. Was she just supposed to, to hold it? She raised her arm, nervously wiping the sweat that had been gathering on her forehead. Perhaps she was over-thinking it.

She promptly backed up when the woman she had approached swiftly reached for her machete and nearly launched an assault on the guy. No, she was not over-thinking it. These people are completely nuts. She toyed with the idea of backing up and turning tail, to run back to the crowd of aggravated newcomers and try to find someone who was actually sane. But then again, she’d just be going back to where she started. These are the sort of people she’s going to have to live with. Better to try and make some ‘friends’ earlier on, no?

She was right to feel intimidated. This women was bloody frightening. The man, a little more welcoming. It was in situations like these which reminded her of why she doesn’t talk to people.

Estal stepped forward once the woman had put down her weapon, and looked a little more... relaxed. Giving a single, deep breath, she noted the directions and advice given to her. Articulate, articulate, articulate. “Er, well, I, er...” She paused momentarily, her body language still seemingly skittish. “You know what? I-, I don’t know what I’m doing. Do you mind me just following you, wherever you guys are going? If, if that's okay?”

Honestly, she would have left them to find Site Borea by herself if she was actually confident in her own directional skills. Right now, she wouldn’t be able tell you where northeast is, what northeast is, and what direction northeast is in. Perhaps learning some orienteering skills may be helpful. If only wondering around aimlessly, in a random direction, could get you somewhere. She’d be good at that.

She glanced back at the man again, forcing a small smile. “I, er- I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” Switching her gaze from the man, to the woman, and then back again, she continued. “It’s Estal, by the way.”

@LazyEgg, @JunkMail

- Comm link established, active -

[Finally, there you are. Got visual?]

“Yes. Initiating scan… twenty-five hits… fifty-seven… eighty-one… one hundred and… twenty-nine, done. Sending data.”

[Alright! _{Friday, new batch! Get on it!} How’s it look to you?]

“Nothing to be concerned about. Some veterans are with them, but that’s it.”

[Solid. Want you to do one more sweep before tomorrow, keep me up to date. Site status, vessel positions, everything.]

“Understood.”

[Keep safe. No fighting ‘til we’re all there.]

“I know.”

[Juuuuust checkin’. See ya tomorrow.]

“Yes, sir.”

- Comm link terminated -

---

---

A handful of sharp-shaped objects were slung towards him, quills- Cacti Quills. On reflex, Jake cut open his left palm and as soon as the blood oozed out, he formed a small barrier that caught the onslaught of quills. As soon as they were caught, they began to sizzle under his bloods corrosive properties. And with the last crackle of the quills his blood began to recede back into the wound, which was than promptly closed. He eyed the cautionary eyes of the man, who most likely attacked because of the surprise he had given the man. Well it was Jack's fault so he wouldn't blame him for that.

He looked all over the man, each hair turning into a razor. Interesting powers indeed he thought, likening the man to a cactus-wolverine. Except with the blades skewn all over his body. It was effective in giving off an intimidating pressure so that was a plus for him.

"Rule number one, kid,"

He said in a hoarse, rough voice,

"Don't sneak up on anybody. It's a great way to get a faceful of something awful nasty."

"Yeah, I got that." Jack scoffed, "I'll be more careful next time around."

"Site Borea is that way, kid. It's a pretty short walk. Just follow the river down. It's hard to miss."

Another quill cracked out of his forearm, into a tree about South-East of Jake. The man pointed in a direction where one could hear the soft flow of water easily audible throughout the trees. You could even crinkle your nose to smell the fresh air that one would associate with a riverside.

"Thanks for the invaluable information!" Jake said sincerely, which was slightly, even if his voice did sound slightly sarcastic, he did bow his head, "Glad you weren't one of the mad dwellers that would've tried to hold me up for the nil supplies I owned, or something. Again, many thanks."

---

After saying that he turned towards the direction he was pointed too and sauntered slowly, his hands in his pockets. He took in the scenery of the island, given the circumstances of him being placed in this place, it wasn't too bad. The air in the forest, while damp, was alot better than the place he was basically shoved into by Adelon. The skies were a nice shade of blue, a shade of blue that many people would liken to a nice, warm day where one could take a sweet nap. As sad as it was, it wasn't time for embracing the pleasant embrace of sleep, Jack had to gather his bearings and set up some sort of foothold. He planned to get information of all the 'Sites', as scantily mentioned by the officers earlier. In the long run he wanted to have a stable-ish home, and some reputation where he would be 'feared' and not many would try to approach him to steal his supplies or something.

Whilst thinking of those things and admiring the layout of the land, he come across the Site... Atleast Jack thinks he did. There was a signpost or 'board' that basically looked like it would fall apart at any moment, with even some pieces of wood hanging desperately. On the sign it simply read 'Site Borea.' Behind the signs were about three areas. One looked to be an office of sorts, another resembled some sort of headquarters and the last area seemed to be housing. He guessed that 'Site Borea' was the nucleus of this island before it all went to shit.

There appeared to be a-many people strewn about. Most were simply lazing about, "Heh, my kinda people." Jake joked silently. Others were conversing with each other. The placed appeared to be the most populated, as this was where majority were directed to by the high-ranks of Adelon. It appeared safe-ish enough to walk around, Jake would've asked for general information of the island from the populace had there not been a giant map in the open. The map was certainly not in pristine shape, given that there were many remarks on each of the sites, well, it was to be expected.

He tries to burn the memory of the map into his mind, but that wasn't going to work. Instead he looked and asked for some basic enmities like a piece of paper and a pencil/pen. And after being rudely denied by a few, one scoffed at him and threw one piece of yellowed out paper and half a pencil. Glad I didn't have to use my blood or something, well, if I needed to I probably would've huh were the words that passed through his mind before off-handedly thanking the hesitant man.

Walking back on the island, he jotted down the simple outline of the map, marking each of sites noted and even drawing simple landmarks like the trees, odd shapes/rocks and the like. It wasn't pixel perfect but it would suffice if he were to ever get lose. He remembered a chinese proverb; Better to be prepared than dead, or something like that. Was it even Chinese, or a proverb? Well whatever. On the back of the map he noted down what the prisoners roughly scribbled on the once immaculate map;



He amused himself, finishing up the notes on each Site. The notes atleast gave, albeit a very rough. idea of which areas are friendly- to a degree, and which areas steer clear of. He was surprised it wasn't just unintelligent garble, Jake supposed he was lucky. It was apparent that Site Borea was some sort of safe-zone, a zone of mutual peace. Otherwise he would expect these prisoners to be at each others throat, so Jake sighed in relief. However he didn't expect there to be this sort of treaties in other zones, given their notes, hell even the excursions in-between zones would be rife with danger.

He leaned back against a wall, resting a little since the trek here was a bit lengthy, and conversing with these steel-eyed prisoners does wear on you. Maybe he would take a break and wait for some sort of event to pop up.

---

---

"Hey you, plant-bitch. This is the reason why people talk shit about you when you're not around. It's a hundred fucking degrees in the shade and you're offering someone tea? I bet she's sweating like a dyslexic on a countdown. Think, please and thank you."

Rico was not entirely sure of what to make of her sudden outburst. The confused man shot a glance at the newcomer who introduced herself as Estal, widening his eyes for a split-second just to indicate his newfound wariness with the seemingly-irritated woman, then cracked into a smile.

"Yikes. I swear, it really wasn't that warm until I came up here. I figured it was just you radiating all that heat." he said, keeping in mind how he had only begun to respire harder after having approached her.

"Anyways, I help around a lot at Haeda. Sometimes grow some of the produce too. I wouldn't mind showing you guys the way, maybe whip up some iced tea instead."

The boy lifted up a hand to wipe away a stray bead of sweat. It was indeed getting warmer with tattoos around but he didn't have the heart to say anything. Before leaving the area, he wanted to give the place one last lookaround, just in case. Swiftly, he reached into his pockets and tossed the remaining tea packets, landing far across the expanse of sand. Today will be someone's lucky day. Maybe not mine, but someone's.

"Oh! The name's Rico, by the way. Really nice to meet you both." he formed a small smile as he looked at Estal and Tattoos. He didn't really know whether to bring up the topic of her name, but at this point, he figured she'd just tell them if she felt like it.

MENTIONED: @JunkMail @Ginger Kollie

---

Well, looks like she had two heads to keep alive now. She honestly didn't know if that was good or bad just yet but it was certainly... something.

Now, Haeda was known for two things. Lots of food, and lots of weed. People usually came for one reason or the other. Of course, some ate the food because they smoked all the weed, but in Wednesday's mind they were leeches to the produce she and many others work hard to protect and grown, and not worth her time. However, the idea of actual iced tea sounded surprisingly good. She had water, but nothing to keep it cold. So if this strange man had the ability or means to do so, she was all for it. She hadn't had a cold drink in what seemed like years.

She didn't initially respond to the two of her companions as they voiced their names to one another. Her attention was caught by something else- and slightly more sinister. The island was tropical, and the forests were ridden with trees of all sizes. She wasn't a woman of super enhanced senses by any means, but she did have a trained eye. Sixty or so yards away, up in one of the larger trees was a being of as much relative infamy on this island as the beast of Site Odot. It had many names, but most called it the Sunflower Stalker.

The Sunflower Stalker had been recognized as a presence that normally indicated danger to come. She furrowed her brown, and raised and indignant middle finger to the Stalker from where she stood. The Stalker, having been noticed, cloaked and just about vanished into thin air.

Bitch.

She looked over her shoulder to her followers and her features softened, but only a little. She supposed that it was her turn to introduce herself. "Wednesday. Surname." she stated, taking her machete to a some particularly thick bush to clear a path. "Sorry 'bout the abrupt intro to the island. Most people aren't exactly friendly here. Thought Ricky here was.." She trailed off again, hinting at the implied nature of the matter. The island was small. They wouldn't have to travel too much further to make it to Haeda. All assuming that their little nature walk wouldn't be interrupted by someone- which was entirely possible from her own experience.

Now if only one of there two could fly. It would make life so much easier.

MENTIONED: @LazyEgg @Ginger Kollie

---

Eli sat with his back leaning against his leather chair, glasses shining from the reflection of the large screen in front of him, displaying the whole of Arkos and its surrounding waters. Adelon’s vessels, seaworthy and airborne, were all being tracked, and so too were all the prisoners. Their now-discarded collars left the faintest micro-imprints on them, enough to be traceable for a good few years. Chips under the skin could be clawed out, but the imprints simply weren’t removable - unless a prisoner wanted to tear out their own throat. The downside was that the imprints faded after some time so, the prisoners who’d been on Arkos for longer than two years were getting harder to track. A mass re-imprinting would have to be put into effect soon.

Or they could just switch to chips, spend some money on manufacturing, launch an operation to inject them into everyone on the island, and then worry about those who immediately remove and discard them and…

Yeah, no. None of that. They’re fine where they are now.

“Eli.”

Eli turned his head as Haliat walked into the observation center, mug of hot cocoa in his hand. It was actually a common sight around the ships, their interiors got kind of cold. “Didn’t bring any for me, you old shit?” Eli called out. Coming from anyone else, that would have earned a severe reprimand. But Haliat had long since accepted Eli’s bad along with his good.

“You can get some yourself.” Alexander replied, “Put an ounce of meat on your legs.”

Eli sneered, returning his gaze to the screen. Haliat continued, “All good?”

“Yeah, no one blew up.” Eli replied, pointing to the drop-off location, where the majority of new arrivals were still at. “Seven-thousand, three-hundred and forty-one total prisoners now.”

“Sale reports?”

“TYGAN called about more regenerators, healers, same drill.” Eli replied, “Just keep going through them like crazy. And our good friend Mr. Harvey wanted us to put out a note asking for volunteers for his televised tournament. Don’t think he understands that no one here really “volunteers” for anything.”

“We won’t do business with Harvey until he starts cracking down on his own security.” Haliat said after a sip of cocoa, “Too many of his contestants just escape back into the wild for us to round up again. He’s… just too sympathetic.”

“Amazing no one’s killed him yet.”

“I know.”

Haliat nodded and patted Eli’s shoulder. “Alright, notify me if and when anything happens.” He turned and exited the room, leaving his adjutant to his own devices. Eli simply went back to watching the map, noting all the little details in his head.

As he always did.

---

---

MENTIONED: @JunkMail @Ginger Kollie @Inertia

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After a bit of restful waiting he had decided to scout out some of the sites, if the notes have an ounce of truth on it, then 'Site Haeda' would be a site where they grow 'Kush' or in Laymen's terms, Weed. It didn't take a genius to deduce that, if 'Kush' did indeed grow there, then there's a likely chance that they were growing sustainable foods. It was a guess, sure, but a guess backed by deduction, and if he was wrong, Jack would probably hit himself. Sustenance is probably the top issue at the moment, as he had no idea how food works around here.

He asked around for information, he would also ask for a guide but he dare not trust his back with some random inmate in basically this generation's version of the 'Wild West'. Nonetheless, he did try to get some information, and it was slightly confirmed that there indeed was food there, and the people were too 'high' to be aggresive. Good sign, I guess he thought precariously. Jack was still liable to get attacked by the 'rougher' inmates around so it wasn't a 'risk-free' endeavor. Risking for food was worth it, even with the small chance of getting attacked, Crap, I shouldn't jinx myself

---

He set off on his excursion. The forests were rather... massive and it didn't help when the trees all looked similar. Hell, he could've sworn he saw that rock three times by now. However he was probably making good pace, as he did spot the very few landmarks he had jotted down. The trek was still a bit far off though. Aside from the confusing nature of these forests, there was a sort of calm to them, a certain serene stillness that you wouldn't be able to find in Site Borea. This silence is welcomed by Jack, it was soothing, and even slightly took his mind off the kind of hell they were placed in.

Obviously the veil of silence had to be broken by two grouchy, and rouch voices. Jack looked up at the source of the voices, two thuggish looking individuals met his searching eyes. They certainly looked like the cliche type of people who would try to rob a newcomer. Their clothes were heavily tattered leaving many holes that allowed you to see their bare- wounded skin, the smell they exuded would wish one to permanently forgo their sense of smell. A textbook example of 'lowlives'.

Jack furrowed his brow into a scowl, he was still a little ways off but he just knew he had to expend his stamina to deal with these two right now. The mood was entirely ruined, and the atmosphere drab. With a frown etched on his face he didn't even try to converse with them. It was earlier than he expected, but he cut both his palms and the scarlet red blood began to seep out slowly, the two prisoners looked baffled but smiled, maybe they thought Jack was insane and he was an easy target.

However one more look at Jack's demented eyes and crazed smile, the complexion of one who certainly didn't give up. Even the glaze of his eyes were mad. The blood took the two prisoners by surprise, two blood-like tendrils exuded from his open wounds and swiped precisely at the tendons of their feet. While he wasn't predisposed to not killing, he would still do it. But right now, there was no exact reason to do so, so he aimed to maim. One of them got caught in the surprise attack, and began spewing out blood and fell to the floor, screaming. The other dodged at the very last second. Jake brought the tendril that cut the prisoner's heel next to his mouth and licked the remnants of the prisoner's blood caught on it. Was this a scare tactic, maybe.

The other looked particularly perturbed, his eyes shook in terror and his gaze snapped from his downed partner and the boy who had tendrils coming out of his arms. He clicked his tongue at noticing the second one escaped his grasp, however an erratic smile crept on his face at perceiving how unsettled he was, "Haha... Hahaha- HAHA." Jake cackled darkly his hand covering half his face, the shadow of the forests hiding his visage perfectly, only illuminated by the dark reddish hue of his blood. It just made him look all the more intimidating, was this enough for him to turn tail and run? Hopefully.

That it was, luckily enough, he grabbed his downed friend and sprinted away into a random direction. The two figures eventually disappeared into the greenery, and the silent stillness encapsulated the forests one more, with the only other sound being Jake's own relieved sigh. His tendrils receded back into his palms and the wound closed up, he gasped a few breaths, that little display of his took a little more energy than he calculated.

---

He resumed his tender saunter towards the location. He was most likely going the correct way, probably. However something grew around his ankle and constrained his movement, he winced at the tightness,
"What the..." Jake exclaimed in his surprise, it was probably another prisoner, "Seriously, I think I really DID jinx myself earlier."

"Who are you and why the fuck are you sneaking up behind a buncha people who could possibly kill you?"

Another voice called out from somewhere in the forest, and by instinct he shot out a small blood bullet from his right palm.

"Oops. Better dodge that, mysterious prisoner #3." he warned outloud, "I'm no one of consequence, I was making my way to 'Site Haeda' before you attacked me."

"Oh, I'm friendly, by the way." he jeered, still trying to loosen the vine entrapping his leg, "Believe it or not."

---

Drone Control. This part of the flagship was practically the busiest. Adelon technicians were seated everywhere, in front of screens showing them feeds from their quad-copter nullifier drones scouring Arkos, surveying the prisoners from afar. Eli was there, seated at his own personal station, where he was directly controlling a handful of his own custom drones.

And he’d happened upon quite the sight already.

“Hello…” Eli said, leaning forward. On the drone’s feed was a scene between three prisoners - one newcomer, and two ruffians in the jungle. Eli hit a button on the console and brought up a scanning grid, displaying the information of each prisoner. One of them was actually a newcomer, Jack Peterson, designation #7285. And already he was getting into trouble. Eli watched the scene unfold between the two parties - no words ended up being spoken, just the newcomer flourishing his hemokinetic powers, striking first, and cutting one of the other’s hamstrings. And laughing while doing so.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Eli said, shaking his head in disapproval. In his many years of work, he’d seen plenty of superhumans who operated in much the same fashion. And it got old, fast. But even then, these kinds of supers were the ones who had to be monitored, for everyone's sake.

He continued watching as the “assailants” made off, one very much deprived of his ability to walk on his own two feet. Oh well, there were plenty of healers around, he could get that fixed up in no time. What Eli really wanted to know was, why didn't they use their own powers at any point? A question he'd likely never get an answer to, it seemed. The drone continued to hover well away from the scene, stealth systems fully engaged - cloaking, noise dampeners, everything. Like being watched by a ghost. He continued to tail the hemokinetic, jotting down a quick note on a touch pad.

Jack Peterson #7285. Monitor aggression. Consider sending to TYGAN as a gift.

Eli kept the drone on Jack’s tail, following and watching him from afar, all the way to his encounter with three other prisoners.

He sat back and watched for anything, anything, to use an excuse to fuck with these people.

@Inertia

Rico and Wednesday, got it. She turned, making eye contact with the man before following Wednesday into the undergrowth as she hacked away a path.

The tension was rising, and everyone was thus on high alert. It was a peculiar feeling she had around these two, something about them made her feel safe, or, safer. Right now, trusting them was more of a requirement then of willingness, however, they did seem to know what they were doing. Their behaviour conveyed that of chronic edginess, it didn’t take a genius to understand why. Arkos had a reputation for being dangerous and being home to, well, some unsavoury characters. For now, she would have to adopt her companion’s paranoia and be watchful of her surroundings.

Her eyes darted across the darkening forest as the three continued to walk, pieces of greenery snagging the bottom of her trousers. She looked down, shaking them and brushing off the lingering traces of sand that clung to her knees. Upon raising her head, she was surprised by the sight of the once lush overgrowth in front of them, withered down into a dark, crunchy mess for a few meters ahead. She turned, noticing Rico’s extended arm. Huh, plant-bitch. It had nearly been forgotten that she was with other superhumans as a growing sense of curiosity crawled through her. If Rico could kill plants, assuming that was his only ability, what could Wednesday do?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the string of events which followed the snapping of a twig. Before she knew it, a reddish blur came hauling towards them, causing her to instinctively duck to the ground. Eh? A flood of rage shook her once it was clear, to her, that they were being attacked. “Just let me touch the fucker!” She shouted, standing up and stepping closer towards the voice. Until, or course, she remembered that she was dealing with unknown powers. Instead, she looked back towards Rico and Wednesday, her arms shaking slightly. “Are- are you hurt?”

@LazyEgg, @JunkMail, @Inertia

---

So, all was going relatively well, or at least as well as could be expected. Rico had even shown some good use clearing foliage- which would save her from having to sharpen her machete later. Sure she had been relatively uneasy with the Sunflower Stalker being in the area, but she was never one to believe in the superstition that he brought bad luck. And then, as if fate had decided 'screw that woman in particular', a projectile of some kind had come from the forest and nailed her in the shoulder. Not long afterward, some innately annoying voice called out: "Oops. Better dodge that, mysterious prisoner #3."

At that very moment, Wednesday knew she shouldn't have gotten out of her cot that day.

This wasn't the first time she had ever been shot. It likely wouldn't be the last time either. Because she had already been somewhat on guard, the bullet did not take her off of her feet, but it had stunned her. Her first instincts told her to pull her hand to her shoulder and apply pressure to the wound. Her second instincts caused her to stomp the ground and turn away- as if in some way attempting to walk the pain off. Her third instincts told her to do something far less useful.

"Fuck! God-damn-shit-fuck!" She shouted, stumbling around in her hunched position. She felt her whole body heating up in self defense, but she forced herself to take a few deep breaths. She'd ruin all of her clothing and supplies. And she would likely set a good portion of the forest on fire. Not worth it. She'd kill this joker with her bare hands if she needed to. She was initially having a supremely bad time, but it seemed that her entourage had adopted her mouth. Captain Planet was getting ticked, which was much appreciated, and Estal had wasted no time in dropping the F-bomb. Wednesday ground her teeth and stood back up to her full height of 5'9 pressing into her wound in some futile effort to stop the bleeding. Estal asked if anyone was hurt.

"I've been better." she said, wincing. She turned her eyes to her assailant, who had now claimed that he was 'friendly'. She clenched her slackened arm's fist into a tight ball and her arm began lighting up, as if it were molten glass, with her tattoos being black outlines juxtaposing against the bright yellow and orange appendage. The air swam around her arms, due to the heat radiating off of them. She bit back a snarl and her arm's tones returned to their normal colors.

"Could've fuckin' fooled me." She sneered, restraining herself from branding a dick onto this asshole's forehead.

It wasn't even 5PM yet either God damnit. She still had a whole day of bull to power through.

Great.

MENTIONED: @Inertia @LazyEgg @Ginger Kollie

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MENTIONED: @JunkMail @Ginger Kollie @Inertia