HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 12, 2008 15:38:18 GMT
The Doctor never thought that there would be a moment when she wished the Tardis gone, but now was that instance. Her Magnificent Time Ship jolted and lurched to the side. Walls suddenly floors as the pair rolled together, clinging to each other as they fell. Always falling. But as romantic as the scene may sound, grazed elbows, and twisted knees broke the mood, and the Doctor's fraying temper.
With flesh bruising and exposed, the Doctor leaped to her feet, pulling away from the Ape and pushing him away.
"I need to go check on that." She growled, as she moved quickly for the doorway.
For now the Tardis remained steady, but she was interested to know what had caused such a catastrophe. Without thought to her nudity, Sylar and the Tardis both alike had seen everything to offer now, she jogged back the way she had come. She would have to wait for that shower and clothes change.
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 12, 2008 16:47:11 GMT
Sylar grabbed hold of his shirt with a scowl and pulled half a glass out of his stomach where it had become lodged during their tumble. He dusted old noodles out of his hair as the wound healed and grabbed up the upturned icecream carton and spoon, which lay discarded on th floor. As he followed along the corridor behind the nymph-like Doctor he spooned he melted cream into his mouth to satiate his senses. It was very rude to stop a man in mid flow, whatever the reason...
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 13, 2008 21:14:59 GMT
She stood in silence, even the Tardis seemed to be chuntering in hushed tones, respectful, and perhaps frightened, of the She Doctors bad mood. The picture on the view screen was clear. Cold gray walls, fashioned in concrete, unclimbable and unbreakable, loomed high into the darkened sky. This place was a place no man ever saw and returned to tell the tale. It was a place of legend, and yet instantly recognizable. The Compound. A prison planet. Built by the Powers That Be to serve the Shadow Proclamation. Most offenders were executed. The worst were brought here, never to see the light of day again.
The Doctor allowed a small shiver to run the length of her spine. She allowed herself to think it was because of the cool chill of the Tardis air, and not the terror of being trapped in this place. She should be trapped in this place. She had never been tried for her War Crimes, and she had no doubt if she was found here, they would prevent her exit. But why had the Tardis brought her here? What was her sentient ship trying to tell her?
"What's going on girlfriend?" She asked, keeping her tone light and playful. "Tell me. I want to know."
Sylar entered then, barely witness to her madness. She ignored him, instead choosing to think loudly at she ship, in hope she would get answers. Sylar's face sprung up on the view screen before her, and then, on every screen around the room. The Ape's expression turned from one of annoyance to that of confusion as he watched himself watching him. She couldn't turn to face him now, her eyes instead remained trained and steady on his image before her.
"So you don't like my taste in boyfriend." She muttered angrily, slapping her palm down onto the console in a show of frustration. "You're not my MOTHER."
PMS or no, she was angry beyond rational thought, shrieking at the machine with no regard to Sylar's presence.
"You bring me HERE. You risk my LIFE, just to get your own back? PETTY REVENGE?He's not doing any hard here with me. Why? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?"
Forgetting her bare feet she kicked the console hard, hissed in pain and sunk to the ground, clutching her injured and now disfigured toe.
"You stupid stupid heap of crap..."
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 14, 2008 12:05:24 GMT
Sylar tilted the display around to him as he helped the Doctor up from the floor. She sat upon the chair and began tending to her bruising toe.
He scraped the carton of ice cream of the last dregs within, he spooned the contents into his mouth and held the spoon there in thought. The machine fizzed at him in annoyance as he placed the now empty carton on the console, and he patted it patronizingly. Though he was not aware that the machine was in anyway sentient, the delicate telepathic connection between the Doctor and the ship did not exist between the machine and Sylar, she was remaining resolutely quiet. All he could hear when he listened to it was the delicate hum of the engines and the gentle thrum of the console. It was just a machine, a beautiful and elegant machine, but nothing more.
He tapped the screen a little, assuming it would respond and show him what had angered the Doctor so much, he allowed her the madness of talking to a box, after all, he knew what it was to be lonely and have no one to talk to. Once, in his 18 years of forced solitude he had found himself talking to a soccer ball he had named Wilson...it lasted about five minutes before he got bored and popped the thing...you're only as mad as the things you talk to.
Sylar tried to interpret the swirling circles and rotating hexagons on the screen, along with the strange symbols and words he didn't yet understand. They could have meant something to him had the machine not been purposely spurting rubbish at the screen for him to read (for a machine she was as petulant as her new mistress) and given some more time Sylar may have been able to work that out, but an image suddenly displayed itself at him. He looked happy, like a kid with a cube successfully slotted in the square hole. He looked over at the Doctor with that smile, though he didn't know why he felt the need to share his pride.
However, it wasn't any gift with technology or intuitive aptitude that finally made the screen work, nor was it anything less spectacular, like just hitting buttons till it did what it was told. Someone was playing a nasty prank, but it wasn't anyone Sylar acknowledged as sentient, so he didn't realize.
The image displayed was of a wide and empty beach, pink sanded, waves of a deep blue lapping on its shore beneath and orange sky at sunset. He did like a good beach, he knew instinctively they had landed and had a sudden thirst for a pisco sours...or alien equivalent. He smiled wildly, this was turning into a pretty good deviation from his plans so far: Ice cream, hot naked woman, beach...He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor as he made his way to the door.
Skinny dipping with the Doctor, now there was an idea.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 14, 2008 18:08:31 GMT
As a young boy Frankie Grumps had started his life out as a bit of a rogue. He was what his teachers lovingly called 'mischievous' rather than 'naughty' and won them over with the wit and charm that was unusual in a child his age. His father, locked up in State Prison before Frankie had learned to walk, was of the unsavory sort, but had had a huge effect on the young boy growing up. His mother was a drunkard and never around, and so he longed for the letters scrawled with pencil on toilet paper that his father sent him once weekly. It was his only source of affection and love.
At the age of 13, he was taken away from home by his planets equivalent of Social Services. This came after he had set fire to his neighbors Space Freighter, quite by accident he assured. None the less, a child his age should not have been free to roam at night after curfew, and should not have had matches on his person.
He was in the Work House by the age of 15, where he lied, cheated and stole to remain alive. But he was not a typical rapscallion. Unlike his comrades that spent their winnings on booze and fags to numb the pain, Frankie placed his money under a rock down by the river. After nearly a decade of saving, he had gathered together enough to purchase the parts for a small Jump Craft.
It was a bodged together piece, cramped and uncomfortable with little that could be considered aesthetically pleasing, but it was the love on Frankie's life, and his ticket off the low classed desert planet that he called his own.
Off into the unknown he went. With a thirst for adventure and a knack of getting into trouble, Frankie soon found that he had himself a reputation, and not a good one. He became a mercenary, as good honest work was hard to come by for a lad like himself. Eventually, at the age of 32, he was caught by the Jadoon, a Intergalactic Police Force that often did the leg work for the Shadow Proclamation. Because of his involvement in an attempt to kidnap the Princess of the Diamond Brigade, he had been sent to The Compound as punishment. He would have preferred a slow and painful death.
And that was the story of Frankie Grump. Frankie Grump who had spent the last 7 years as a resident in The Compound. Frankie Grump who was the Top Man of the Far Quadrant. Turn left at the Central Entrance and walk 34 pillars, you would find yourself on Frankie Grumps turf. Unless you were a friend of the 7 foot 4 inch humanoid, who was not known for his mercy, and had a reputation for hanging his competitors by the ankles and bludgeoning them with the spine like protrusions that grew up his forearms, you were in for a world of pain.
Frankie Grump lay in his cot, hands behind his head as he surveyed the ceiling of his block. Every inmate on this corridor knew how to butter him up. New inmates soon learned or paid the consequence. Inmates from other corridors knew not to cross the 34th pillar. He was happy with his kingdom. Nothing could bother him. Nothing except that sound that echoed down the stone walls of his grounds. A sound he knew only too well. A sound that came hand in hand with a little blue box. The pilot of which had caused his capture. The Doctor. He sat bolt upright in bed and sniffed the air with his slightly elongated snout-like nose. He bared his jagged shark teeth and growled. There was no one around to be afraid, but they would have been. So should the Doctor.
***
In the Tardis the Doctor watched with mild amusement and shock as Sylar made a beeline for the door.
"Wait." She called, hobbling onto her feet and giving chase. The door swung closed before her. She was too late. The Tardises laughter echoed through her mind. This had been the plan. Get him off the ship, and then fly away and leave him. The idea was tempting and oddly poetic. But no.
"I'm not leaving him behind." She hissed, determined that her knew friend was travel with her. Keep her company and be humbled by the universe. Redeem him, and somehow, redeem herself. She ran back into the bowels of the Tardis. She needed clothes, and perhaps a weapon. Even Sylar was not safe in that place.
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 14, 2008 21:17:59 GMT
He ploughed out the door and was about two meters outside of the box with one shoe in his hand and his eyes on his now exposed sock when he realised something wasn’t quite right.
It was raining.
Of course, it wasn’t the rain that burst the happy illusion he had been tricked into believing. It was the hundreds of hungry, slavering rain swept shadows that were surrounding him. The rain hit the hard floor with a force he had never experienced before and threw up a mist that meant he could barely make out whether the shadows (that seemed to be coming nearer) were shadows, people, or something else. Perhaps nothing? He put his shoe back on. Back in the box? He turned and the door had closed behind him. He slammed on it to be let back in, not that he was afraid, but he was concerned, and now…wet.
He felt something on the back of his neck, the distinctive warmth of another breath. He turned instinctively, ready and highly capable of defending himself. There was nothing there. Only the mist.
He laughed. He was losing it.
His laugh came back. It echoed across the misty compound, but it wasn’t his laugh, it was higher, melodic, but equally sinister. He wasn’t going to beg to be let back inside.
If the Doctor had abandoned him, if this had been her ploy all along, then he would survive like he had always done. He wasn’t some weak thing to be played with. His body prepared for a fight, his features solidified into a scowl. Let them come.
They were closer now; the shadows that were not shadows, but men, creatures, and things which Sylar could not focus upon through the haze. He was eager to see them, a fascination with the extraordinary made his stomach churn. But he would not let his inherent curiosity better him. Instead of backing away against the TARDIS he stepped forth towards them. His hands lit aflame, the wet air around him fizzing into steam with the heat he was producing. He would show them what humans could do.
He had seen a lot of sci-fi as a kid, he knew how this worked. He felt like a fool saying it, but delivered the order with the kind of strength that his power permitted, “Take me to your leader.”
A shape formed in the mist and came forward. A small child, a girl by Sylar’s estimation walked through the rain. Her long black hair fell so long about her that it hid her body and her almost oriental features, the white skin he could see was covered in detailed tattoos, as if someone had written a great script on her body which Sylar could not interpret. He could see, as she came closer, her eyes shone emerald green and was enthralled. But he was careful not to show it, remaining wary of his alien surroundings. It wasn’t like he was in Brooklyn anymore. The rain began to cease.
She came close, the top of her head at the height of his stomach, the water caught in her hair poured down her face in rivers as she looked up at him. Two small scrawled hands stretching upward with curiosity and crawled through the hairs on his chest.
“You’re from the Last Sanctuary.” She said ethereally with a slightly fractious laugh. The fact that he understood her meant little to him, there was always an explanation. Sylar slapped her cloying hands off his flesh, but as he slapped one away another replaced it, and then another, and another…and another. “Pretty…” She sang as a multitude of limbs appeared as if out of nowhere. Sylar wrapped his hand across one of her flying wrists and flash burned her with the heat. She snapped her hands back with immediate effect, her arms retracting dramatically as if they were the extremities of startled coral.
“We call that a Chinese burn.” He said and threw her off backwards. She landed a few feet away in a puddle with an unpleasant splash. She was laughing again.
***
High above the compound floor Tobian Bathchild Clubfoot the Third viewed the passage of events with curiosity and nervous excitement as the crowd of inmates flooded the new arrival and dragged him away. Power in numbers was always a wonderful thing to witness, the beauty of a mob. The new arrival probably shouldn't have attacked Sunshine, but it wasn't TBC111's place to warn, just oversea. He always liked new fish.
“Send someone to go fetch.” He told a rhinocerous-like creature that stood at the door smoking a pipe. “Can’t have anarchy at the Compound…” He said and stamped a form or two hundred death warrants. Really, as much as he was excited, he was also concerned. The Proclamation had no concern with regards the economies of space. The Compound was full to the rafters without one more to tip the already clamouring gulagians over the edge. He would have to make more space.
“And tow the transport device to the furnaces.”
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 15, 2008 10:32:01 GMT
They flooded in on him in an instant once the child hit the floor. He responded in a hundred ways. A few creatures caught aflame and ran screaming/galloped/flapped etc around the compound, some dropped heavily, petrified to gold as he laid his hands on them, some froze mid step, some went flying into walls and other crowds, bowling over clusters of aliens; but they swarmed in such numbers he couldn’t attack quickly enough. as soon as one dropped away another ten or twenty would grab at his arm or leg or hair and drag him deeper inside and into the cloying darkness.
He had yet the space to work out why, and could only surmise that he had either done something very wrong or was very valuable. He came to this conclusion especially when two gargantuan creatures made almost entirely out of rock (he hadn’t a clue exactly how to compete with or fight off the creatures) decided to fight over him. While they scrapped and argued over ownership of the ‘new boy’. He managed to get away only to be met by a slender feminine looking thing covered in spines like a giant porcupine. The quills flattened as she saw him. She made a face that Sylar saw a smile within and before Sylar could turn or attack she pointed a finger at him. A small dart spun through the air towards him. He was too disorientated by the consistent pulling and pawing in the darkness to do anything about it; the thing struck him in the shoulder painfully fast. It buried deep, his hand went to the wound automatically to pull out the dart, but he could find only a tiny drop of blood where it had pierced his skin. Almost immediately his legs fell from under him. He collapsed onto the hard floor.
“Pretty,” came a voice behind him in the darkness and he knew the small girl had returned from the numb feeling of little fingers and hands on his body. “Can we take him to Daddy?” she sang as she leant over him so that her small face was above his own. He felt the dull sensation of a hand on his leg as he was dragged along. No one came after the Porcupine woman and the small child, and he had a very unpleasant concern that this was not a good thing.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 15, 2008 17:11:03 GMT
Dressed Lara Croft style, in beige cargo trousers, and gray vest, The She Doctor stepped out into the Compound. The place sent a shiver down her spine, as heavy rain pounded upon her dirty gold plaited locks. Brown walking boots crunched into the rough gravel as she made her way across the clearing. She was being watched, from all directions, and she didn't like it. She reached into one of her trouser pockets, fingering the staple gun that was present there. She wasn't one for violence, and it was the only object that had seemed weapon like that she could quickly lay her hands on.
She stopped in the center of the clearing, blue eyes flashing purple as she surveyed her surroundings. They were all around her. Prisoners of all shapes and sizes, crouching in the shadows, watching her watching them, sizing her up. But she would not be afraid. It had been too long since she had mixed with the likes of these, and too long since they had met a creature who could not tear them limb from limb. These were scavengers, they did the dirty work of the bosses in hopes to keep themselves alive. That was the way of a place like this. The strong protect the weak, but only if they had something to gain. If she could assert herself over them, make them fear her, she would be home and dry in no time at all.
She smiled, she would not be afraid.
"A man came through here." She said in a load aggressive voice, hiding the tremble well. They were creeping closer, but she would not let them take her. She would not be some sex slave for some hideous beast, with more power than sense.
She turned abruptly on a lizard-like creature that had stalked up behind her, making him flinch. He had been in a fight once already today if the bloody state of his facial scales were anything to go by. "Did you see a man?" She asked again in a low but sinister voice, "Dark hair, shirtless, probably did that to you."
The Lizard looked like he might answer. For a moment he chewed his lip with his crocodile teeth and tapped his protruding chin with his claw. Then quick as a flash he lashed out, knocking the Doctor off her feet in one swift motion. She scrabbled to her knees, but found the animal had her by her hair in a tight fist.
"He'll like you." He drooled, snout pressing to her cheek as he hefted her to her feet and took in her scent, "You have a spine. He likes to break spine."
Then there was blackness.
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 16, 2008 10:21:59 GMT
As far as the Reptilian was concerned the Doctor was fair game, dropped in the Compound Excercise Square, she may as well have been covered in honey*. He pulled her east towards what used to be the kitchens, though they had long been under new management. Food and its division was no longer the responsibility of the Compound kitchens, the inmates had to scavange and barter for what they got. It had been that way a long time. The Reptile smiled a mouth full of bitter teeth. If he didn't get a week's dinner for this prize then he would just have to roast her. It would be a shame, for a humanoid she wasn't a bad piece of meat to look at.
He was ruminating too much. The Doctor had decided not to point this out as the butt end of a Judoon blast gun caught him around the back of the head.
The Judoon puffed on his pipe. Judoon X345BOB, Bob to his friends (though Judoon didn't really have friends, but if he did, he would ask if they would call him Bob) liked his pipe. He pulled the Doctor over his shoulder. He was not like a lot of the Judoon. He liked a good shooting match as anybody, and hell if a good mud fight didn't make his horn tingle, but over the years his taste for a good battle had grown dim. He hadn't been a field operative since he was a nipper, and spent most of his time running TBC a bath, filling his glass with cheep wine, polishing his shoes, reading him bedtime stories and filing. Occassionally he and a team of meatheadded Judoon (who were seconded to the Compound as punishment or a 'learning experience' or because they were too stupid for field operations and therefore none of which were really great conversationalists) were sent 'onto the floor' to dish out a bit of 'rationalization' (culling the numbers a bit, checking The Hierarchy was still in place.) but rarely. So Bob had grown a sweet spot that had grown over years at the Compound...he was old and close to retirement, and it was all these reasons that meant he thought this once it was best to give the newbie a fighting chance.
He decided to take the newbie to Runcoon, who as it went was the least viscious of the gang leaders in the Compound and who did a nice line in providing "entertainment" for an appropriate price.
****
Meanwhile Sunshine and Elbeth (with Sylar's leg in her spiney hand) reached the 34th Pillar.
* (the Red Nebular Bee kind of honey which sends its consumers into a hallucinagenic haze and is responsible for sending three Intergalactic Sentors dancing naked through the Intergallactic congress pool at a conference...the Reptilian had been forced into Red Nebular Honey dealing to survive following the loss of his planet, and had been shipped to the compound for his crimes, because that particular brand of sugar was banned in three constellations.)
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 16, 2008 16:42:52 GMT
Frankie Grump was not one to hare anywhere. He held entire rooms hostage with his hostile demeanor and stature. He moved slowly and deliberately. He oozed charisma, and seemed unflappable. Right now however, flap he did, and also hare.
The engines of the Tardis echoed through his mind like a horrible dream, bringing back old, long forgotten memories that had scared him permanently. He had never felt despair like he had when he had been with the Doctor. He felt it necessary to return the favor.
He head out towards the clearing, barely paying any attention to his surroundings or his footing. He only came back to himself as he approached the 34th pillar, and the edge of his territory. To stray further than this would be to declare war on his neighbor. He was not afraid of a fight. Quite the opposite. He longed for the taste of blood on his lips once more, but he was a realistic man. Now was not the time to be hasty. Not with the Doctor a foot.
He need not have worried however, for he spied Sunshine and Elbeth returning from the hunt. With them they had a man. Was this the Doctor with a brand new face? He licked his lips with anticipation.
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 16, 2008 16:59:19 GMT
Sunshine ran like crazy, it was as if she hadn't seen him in years, when in reality it had only been a few hours she threw herself at him and jumped into his arms.
"Daddy, my Daddy!" She yelled and kissed him passionately. "We found a human. A real live one! Here! Looky." She turned to look at Sylar who Elbeth was dragging towards them. He was motionless, the poison Elbeth had given him had turning him a nasty shade of blue. There had been a risk that it would kill him but clearly it hadn't...Sunshine liked to play very differently with dead things and she hadn't turned on him in that way just yet. So he must have still been living. Which he was.
"I brought him here all myself, just for you." Sunshine said with gloat. Elbeth didn't complain, she said very little, her actions spoke much louder. She picked let Sylar's leg go and pointed to her forarm. Sunshine then remembered...
"Oh..." she said and with a delicate pout she showed Frankie her burn. "He's playful." She said and nuzzled her small head into his wide neck. "Will you hurt him for me please, just a little bit. I've never had a human to play with before."
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 16, 2008 21:17:46 GMT
Frankie let the girl paw at him, enjoying small jolts of pleasure as her sharp nails drew blood. Their story was a complex one, and yet so wonderfully simple. She had come to him as a small child, sent to The Compound for crimes seemingly well beyond her innocence. In a moment of gallantry he had tried to protect her. He had been wrong to under estimate her strength and absence of soul. He didn't use the word monster often, but there was no better word. Monstrous, yet beautiful, artistic, imaginative, a perfect foundation to mold into something totally extraordinary. Over the years he had trained her, turned her into something magnificent , all the while developing a slightly odd but highly rewarding relationship.
He ran a misshapen claw down her spine, taking enjoyment in the shudder he elicited as she nuzzled against him, hot breath moist against his neck.
"Oh I'll hurt him." He whispered, a promise of a lover as well as guardian. His forked tongue flicked out to catch the tip of her nose in a dominant yet adoring manner. "I'll make him scream until he likes it. Then I'll make him sing."
He wanted answers, craved them. His body shook with anticipation as he imagined breaking the Doctor's neck in perfect detail. This was beautiful. If this creature was in fact human, it meant that he was not here alone. No crime a simple Earthling could muster would appear on the radar of the Shadow Proclamation. The planet in it's entirety was barely a blip in their omniscient view. Combined with the sound of ancient engines, as old as the universe, it could only mean one thing. Oh yes, it had been a long time, but he would never forget that glorious and yet terrifying sound. The Doctor was here, and this human knew something. Oh he would make him cry.
***
The Doctor was here in body yes, but not in spirit. The smack to the back of her head had rendered her well and truly unconscious, to the extent that she saw Berlioz Butterflies before her.
In her mind, a mind suffering from extreme smushing, she was running jovially across a meadow that was oh so green. Nimble feet, bare and free, splashing in a perfectly clear stream that reflected the brilliantly blue sky. It was Earth that was for sure, but this was not an Earth of reality. It was a fairy tale Earth, with happy little Gnomes sitting under red mushrooms eating cake and laughing lightly. In the distance a heard of wild ponies ran together as a family unit, hooves beating up a cloud of dust as they cantered, care free. The scene was perfect. Almost. And then...
Sylar emerged from a great lake to the east, wearing a white button down shirt, drenched and transparent. His hair was delightfully ruffled and dripping perfect drops down his face. In his hand was the biggest bar of milk chocolate she had ever seen, and that was saying something. He ran towards her, arms open, smiling.
The internal argument her between ego and id was instantly hushed. The decision was made. She was never waking up. Shadow Proclamation be damned.
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Sylar
total nut!
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Post by Sylar on Apr 17, 2008 14:37:06 GMT
Frankie had dragged Sylar through to a cell and threw him inside, he was now near a shade of purple. Sunshine was practically skipping at the thought of what color he would turn next and was singing some sort of nursery rhymes.
“Your Blood is red, my dear, Your Breath is blue, Your Death is green, my love, Bu you taste nice in stew…”
Frankie shot her an affectionate but impatient glare. She pouted and skipped to his side, running her hands over him, and Sylar at the same time. Elbeth bristled as if a wind had driven through the cell, she pulled at a spine from her wrist painfully, exposing a pooling of blood where she had broken her skin. She made a silent gesture at Sunshine who smiled and tipped back Sylar’s head, opening his mouth. Elbeth let a little of her blood fall onto his tongue. Shortly his color began to return. Sunshine retreated behind Frankie for protection, tended to her wounded forearm with one arm and hugging herself and Frankie with the others.
Elbeth held her nails over where she had heard humans kept their hearts. She could manufacture all manner of poisons if she so wished, one dangerous move and a paralytic would be the least of Sylar’s worries. She wondered if Sunshine was going to tell Frankie this human was not like the ones they had heard of in the stories. She imagined not, Sunshine did like to play, it would be up to Elbeth to be the cautious one.
It just so happened that at almost identical moments in time on entirely opposite sides of the Compound another encircling cluster of vicious aliens poked and prodded their bounty, and one they had had to do very little to obtain.
Bob sauntered into a room heavy with smoke and laughter with the Doctor over his shoulder.
The Runcoon weren’t unhappy in the Compound, well, they were, but as a race it was hard to get them down. They were canny, sly, in any nasty situation they would make the best of it. A family of interplanetary merchants, slender, red-skinned and naturally very attractive on a pheromone production count alone, where there was money to be made, some(one)thing to be sold, some(one)thing to be brought, some deal to be made, and little man to be oppressed, then there you would find one of the Runcoon. Their Ood sweatshops were renowned across seven systems, and as for flesh trafficking, well, there was no better.
Of course the three Runcoon in the compound weren’t popular with the family…they had got caught. Their imprisonment also remained unpopular with a several outspoken government ministers who were now being blackmailed because of their ‘anonymous’ letters to the Compound detailing their reasons for “the Runcoon Three” to be released. How those letters got into the hands of blackmailers remained a mystery to the ministers in question.
Jani Ral-swane Runcoon, Loreli Ral-swane Runcoon and Socrassi Ral-swane Runcoon were three of the most notorious perpetrators of lustful enterprises that had been active for ten generations. Their ingenuity had led them to set up one brothel in the middle of the parliament building on Balhoon, and it had been the sheer audacity of their actions, not withstanding the joy they had brought to a lot of Balhoonan politicians, had landed them a visit from the Judoon.
They were in the middle of their third year in the Compound and had survived this far by doing what they had always done, wheeling and dealing their way to survive, setting up a lucrative protection racket and forcing the more attractive prisoners to ‘work’ for them, the menu of services to be provided was particularly extravagant and not a little scary for new comer to get their head around. Nonetheless they were always persuaded to ‘work’. Jani, Loreli and Socrassi lay on the floor surrounded by a vast collection of comfortable cushions, the only thing that could be considered luxuriant in the Compound. Yet these pillows had been sewn from leathers and hides from individuals that had not conceded to work for them, and stuffed with feathers, hairs and all manner of soft and fluffy items from whoever they managed to gather them (normally also those that did not comply). They were doing what they usually did, finding everything unutterably hilarious, when Bob laid the pretty blonde woman at their feet.
“Yours.” He said and fixed them with a stare.
“And what to WE what with THAT.” Jani guffawed smoking on a long bowl-pipe, she eyed Bob interestingly.
“Do what you will.” Bob grunted, warm breath coming out his flaring nostrils. He scratched at his horn, the sweet smoke was making his fibers itch. “Don’t want trouble down here. Best you keep her.”
Loreli told a joke “A Balhoon, a Judoon and a Runcoon go into a bar…”
“I’ve heard it.” Socrassi added. “We’ll take her.” She said, as Loreli finished the joke for Jani’s benefit, the two fell about on the floor laughing. “Usual payment?” She proffered, a small box of dried leaves was held out for him. He smiled and emptied out his pipe filling it with the sweet content.
“Much obliged.” He added and walked off satisfied, leaving the three madames rolling about the floor in floods of tears before inspecting their new recruit.
Meanwhile, in his office, and entirely unaware of the negotiations below, for what were the petty survival tactics of the ants he hearded. TBC cut his toenails, he had a big date.
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HN
crazy axe murderer
She-Doctor
Posts: 3,032
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Post by HN on Apr 20, 2008 18:59:42 GMT
Frankie pushed his Sunshine aside rather roughly as his new pet awoke. He crouched before the yop of a man, the man that was now sprawled out on the floor. His color was returning and a small groan escaped his lips, as his eyelids fluttered and he regained consciousness.
"I hear you are human." Frankie growled, grabbing Sylar by the hair and turning his grubby face to his, "That means you break easily." The man was obviously disorientated, and tried to look around, hers flicking everywhere but at Frankie, who was getting angrier by the second. He would not be gentle with this man. He was very capable of causing extreme amounts of pain without killing his captive. He had once kept a Cat Person alive for 86 hours, as he slowly removed limbs and excited nerve bundles. By the time he was finished with the creature, he did not know up from down, nor would he refuse Frankie anything. The Cat promptly gave up the position of his own mother, a being of extraordinary power. This human would be easy. Beyond easy.
"Give me the Doctor."
Aforementioned Doctor was also awakening, from a rather pleasant dream, into this world of nightmare. The stench of cigar smoke and urine invaded her dainty nostrils, on her button nose. She rather wished, as she opened her eyes, and the room span, that she had not regenerated with a nose. Yes her face would not seem so nearly as attractive, nor would she be able to smell, but then, that was the point entirely.
She squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of nausea crashing down on her, shattering any remaining illusion that she was far away from this place. Anywhere would do. Really. Anywhere.
She hoped that is she played dead, she would go unnoticed until some knight in shining armor, or a knight in a wet white shirt, buttoned barely past his navel, would come to her rescue. She could hope couldn't she?
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Sylar
total nut!
Posts: 1,375
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Post by Sylar on Apr 20, 2008 20:56:24 GMT
Groggy, but not deaf, Sylar laughed. Break easily? Not him. Of course he could concede to ‘give’ over the Doctor, had said Doctor not abandoned him to the great vast wherever he currently was. So he laughed, because it was funny, and it felt good to laugh. Loud and long and clear. The man with his hand wrapped tightly around the follicles of his hair shook Sylar's head, surely to illicit some other reaction than he was getting, perhaps fear? But Sylar just found this hilarious. So he laughed louder.
Laughter too came from Jani, Loreli and Socrassi as they pulled themselves from their splendour with cat-like stalking. They crawled around their new piece of flesh with amusement poking and prodding at the Doctor as if she was a jellied fish that had landed on the shore.
“It’s all pink.” Said Jani with a giggle, “and yellow.” Said Loreli drawing her long fingers through the Doctor’s blonde hair. “I can think of a number that would like it.” Socrassi summised pulling at the Doctor’s belt buckles. “A high price.” Said Jani. “Oh yes,” added Loreli, “Very human looking.” Added Socrassi, “that is always popular.” Jani laughed out loud, “They’re so funny looking, and I can’t see the attraction.” Loreli added. “We shouldn’t question Lori,” Socrassi scorned, “an exchange is an exchange,” successfully loosening the Doctor’s belt and running her hands over the Doctor’s hips. Her hands were cold.
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