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    1. Kablamicus 11 yrs ago

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Continuing to pound against the walls of his cell Victor thought back to the incident that had lead to him being incarcerated in this tomb. Young Victor Slate, fresh out of the military was expecting a hero's greeting from his sister, the optimistic all-american lad who had shipped away returned a grizzled anarchist with unimaginable powers. However as he stepped off the plane there was no one to greet him, not a single family member to welcome their lost son home. Travelling to where Alice used to live he found new tenants living in the house that gave him a note from his sister. 'Victor, you're too dangerous to be around now, your powers could threaten my privacy and the life of your newborn nephew Jonathan, I'll tell him his uncle was a hero. Please try and make something of yourself - Alice.' The letter destroyed Victor, he had gone to the military to help his sister stay afloat and now it was all in vain, well now Victor was looking out for himself.

Victor began to abuse his powers using them to tear open bank vaults as if they were paper, getting stronger with every bullet fired at him. Victor would blow most of his earnings in underground games of high stakes poker with other criminals however he would always send a small part of his earnings to his sister's account despite all the conflict between them.

Eventually one heist went down under when the police sedated him using a gas based anesthetic when victor came back around he was being carted into his cell, and so began a week long conflict with several casualties all in the name of getting Victor into his cell. Slowing his pounding on the walls Victor heard an unfamiliar voice within his head. The power dampeners must be down was Victor's first thought, not that it would help as the very material Victor's cell was made from negated his powers. 'Just because I'm weakened doesn't mean I couldn't take half of these folks on...You have a thing for yarn don't you? Why can't anyone just be sane anymore?... As for an escape now you're talking my language, I just need someone to open the door of my cell from the other side and this place will be rubble... They've got you on the meds too huh...Well sweet dreams I guess...' Victor felt strange having a telepath in his head but it was the first conversation he'd had in some time.
Victor just wants a simple lavish life where no one gets in his way.
Anyone able to break out Victor so he can break out Cheshire is cool
Down south, just a bit north of Londinium to be precise, yourself? Also Kitten I'm fine with Cheshire using Telepathy if you want.
Usurper King said
I'm GMT, in faire olde Englandland.


I'm in merry ol' blighty too.
Sorry I was really tired and missed it. Sure, once Victor gets out of his cell.
Morning all, rather tired but I'm going to be off to school in 15 minutes so I'm waking up fast, yourself?
"7:30 Am
Victor sat cross legged in his sparse cell, the bulky man breathing slowly his trademark mask still attached to his face, the guards never had the chance to take it off during the week long battle to get the villain known as 'Velocity into his cell'. Victor's cell was made out of a metal that was designed to negate any kinetic energy forced into it. The entire cell was spartan with absolutely no furnishings, just Victor and the four walls that surrounded him. The man continued his zen-like breathing gazing at the passing guards the way a lion eyes it's prey. These men were weak government lapdogs, if they didn't have their badges and states to hide behind Victor would have ripped them limb from limb.

It had been five days since Victor's last attempted escape, a new guard had arrived who wasn't savvy to the exact nature of Victor's powers. Victor had asked the man for some 'light reading' the naive sentry had obliged giving Victor a hardback copy of Lord of the Flies. Victor had proceeded to repeatedly hit himself with the tome until the energy from these blows was enough to sever the door of the cell from it's hinges and annihilate the guard leaving his mangled remains at the entrance of the cell. This freedom was short lived when several mechanized officers were able to take advantage of Victor's weakened state and he was herded back in to his cell.

The guards would often look at Victor but the most he would do is raise a single middle finger, he wasn't going to submit to their supposed authority, none of them could defeat him in one on one combat. Occasionally a guard would read Victor a letter from his sister Alice, he had originally joined the military to pay for his sister's tuition and while she was now in the running for a nobel prize for physics, Victor was stuck in prison after a military experiment turned sour. Ever since his experience in the army he has resented authority preferring to rely on his own strenght than any supposed state, the only people he needs to care for are himself and Alice.

Rising to his feet Victor began his daily ritual of cursing at the guards and pounding furiously against the walls of his cell.
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