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Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Hope In Hell #2.008: Why You Gotta Kick Me When I'm Down?
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Into the Fire
“I can’t believe I was ever that weak.” A voice echoed from a nearby hallway, the temperature in the room dropping rapidly as two long shadows were cast through the dim room. A pair of blonde women entered the room, one standing at par with even Katja, her heavy footsteps shaking the room while the shorter blonde woman turned her lips upwards in a cruel sneer. Any residual heat in the room seemed to evaporate.
“Really? A panic attack right now? Couldn't handle not being the center of attention could you, Princess.” The woman stepped forward into the light, a mist of ice crystals hovered around her open hands as the light illuminated her face.
It was Calliope.
Or at least it was someone’s approximation of her, like a living doll. The features were too smooth, the makeup too heavy, the hair had its blonde tips obnoxiously coloured an icy blue. But on first look, it was Calliope’s face; or at least close enough to be unnerving.
The suit that she wore didn’t look anything like the ones issued by P.R.C.U. This one accented her form more, clearly tailored and supported in areas that the generic A.R. suits simply didn’t have the luxury to be. Primarily white, it was accented with silver and baby blue lines and details. An ‘F’ decorated her belt buckle and was emblazoned on the upper right quadrant of her chest.
The hulking woman beside her was clearly the uncanny version of Katja, her rippling muscles clear as day even through the reinforced suit covering her body. Grease paint covered her eyes and nose giving her the look of a jungle commando while various scars shaped like claws were visible where her skin was still exposed.
“They were trained to be weak,” The Uncanny Katja spat, clearly disgusted by the students before the doppelgängers.
“More pathetic products of Pacific Royal.” She cracked her knuckles before rolling her head from side to side.
“I shall very much enjoy hearing your last breath struggle to escape from your crushed windpipe.”
The behemoth of a woman lunged forward only for ‘Anti-Calliope’ to raise a hand, nearly instantly crafting a thick barrier or ice between ‘Feral Katja’ and the rest of Blackjack.
“Not yet.” She giggled wickedly, “They still need to suffer more.”
Suddenly, Blackjack was plunged into total darkness. An awful scraping noise echoed all around them as each member was pulled in a different direction. The ominous buzzing returned as the lights flickered back to life revealing that Blackjack had been scattered throughout the maze.
Harper found herself with Lorcán and Aurora, now located in a classroom with a locked blast door. On either side of a room was a wall of glass, beyond the thick pane was the blackness of the ocean, schools of fish swimming ignorant of the three observers.
A sickening crack suddenly echoed through the room as a line shot through the middle of the glass. A red beacon flashed in the corner of the room.
Elsewhere, Rory, Haven and Katja had been transported together. The floor beneath their feet was sticky, covered in a tar-like substance as the smell of engine oil overwhelmed their senses. Above their heads was a grated floor situated on evenly spaced I-beams. Mechanical equipment sat supported by the steel, fluids dripping into the pit the three had found themselves in.
“Hey, bro.” A familiar voice called from above them, a pair of boots resting on the grates.
“Run.” It added before a spark flew from the figure’s fingertips and ignited against the floor behind the three Blackjack students. Immediately roaring to life, the fire began to advance rapidly.
Banjo’s eyes adjusted to the light, finding himself along with Calliope and Gil. A glass dome circled above them, and all manner of aquatic life was swimming outside the facility while the three found themselves in some athletic arena. The floor of the arena was scattered with broken robots, their parts lying strewn in every direction.
The echo of a servo motor broke the deafening silence as a head turned to look at the trio. Across the field, the robots suddenly came to life, reassembling as their red eyes all turned to look at the three targets.
“Really? A panic attack right now? Couldn't handle not being the center of attention could you, Princess.” The woman stepped forward into the light, a mist of ice crystals hovered around her open hands as the light illuminated her face.
It was Calliope.
Or at least it was someone’s approximation of her, like a living doll. The features were too smooth, the makeup too heavy, the hair had its blonde tips obnoxiously coloured an icy blue. But on first look, it was Calliope’s face; or at least close enough to be unnerving.
The suit that she wore didn’t look anything like the ones issued by P.R.C.U. This one accented her form more, clearly tailored and supported in areas that the generic A.R. suits simply didn’t have the luxury to be. Primarily white, it was accented with silver and baby blue lines and details. An ‘F’ decorated her belt buckle and was emblazoned on the upper right quadrant of her chest.
The hulking woman beside her was clearly the uncanny version of Katja, her rippling muscles clear as day even through the reinforced suit covering her body. Grease paint covered her eyes and nose giving her the look of a jungle commando while various scars shaped like claws were visible where her skin was still exposed.
“They were trained to be weak,” The Uncanny Katja spat, clearly disgusted by the students before the doppelgängers.
“More pathetic products of Pacific Royal.” She cracked her knuckles before rolling her head from side to side.
“I shall very much enjoy hearing your last breath struggle to escape from your crushed windpipe.”
The behemoth of a woman lunged forward only for ‘Anti-Calliope’ to raise a hand, nearly instantly crafting a thick barrier or ice between ‘Feral Katja’ and the rest of Blackjack.
“Not yet.” She giggled wickedly, “They still need to suffer more.”
Suddenly, Blackjack was plunged into total darkness. An awful scraping noise echoed all around them as each member was pulled in a different direction. The ominous buzzing returned as the lights flickered back to life revealing that Blackjack had been scattered throughout the maze.
Harper found herself with Lorcán and Aurora, now located in a classroom with a locked blast door. On either side of a room was a wall of glass, beyond the thick pane was the blackness of the ocean, schools of fish swimming ignorant of the three observers.
A sickening crack suddenly echoed through the room as a line shot through the middle of the glass. A red beacon flashed in the corner of the room.
Elsewhere, Rory, Haven and Katja had been transported together. The floor beneath their feet was sticky, covered in a tar-like substance as the smell of engine oil overwhelmed their senses. Above their heads was a grated floor situated on evenly spaced I-beams. Mechanical equipment sat supported by the steel, fluids dripping into the pit the three had found themselves in.
“Hey, bro.” A familiar voice called from above them, a pair of boots resting on the grates.
“Run.” It added before a spark flew from the figure’s fingertips and ignited against the floor behind the three Blackjack students. Immediately roaring to life, the fire began to advance rapidly.
Banjo’s eyes adjusted to the light, finding himself along with Calliope and Gil. A glass dome circled above them, and all manner of aquatic life was swimming outside the facility while the three found themselves in some athletic arena. The floor of the arena was scattered with broken robots, their parts lying strewn in every direction.
The echo of a servo motor broke the deafening silence as a head turned to look at the trio. Across the field, the robots suddenly came to life, reassembling as their red eyes all turned to look at the three targets.