Erik's head hurt.
The young man's brain was buzzing with information; recognition of the name, vague observations about his surroundings, possible escape strategies...
He didn't exactly have much chance of escape, though, and he knew it. With the onslaught of information and the heavy security, he didn't stand a chance. So instead, he quietly observed his fellow captives, occasionally fidgeting in an attempt to find some semblance of a comfortable position.
This was gonna be a long twenty minutes.
edited 12th Dec '11 8:01:28 PM by spiralalg
Twenty minutes.
Cyrus isn't sure if the ship or Der Fels is going to suck harder.
For the millionth time, Cyrus tries to enter a command into the keypad on his upper left arm. He can't even reach it with his tongue. Besides, even if he could get something, there was no way he could put the card in the slot on his other arm.
Fuck. He does the same thing he's been doing since he got on the ship: practicing flexing his metal fingers and trying not to throw up. Not the best way to pass the time, but it's not like he has choices or anything.
edited 12th Dec '11 8:15:09 PM by SnowyFoxes
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!Leonard Laplace shook his restraints violently. He could think much more clearly now that he wasn't high as a kite on industrial-strength toxins. Where was he? Oh yes, they had found him. They were responsible. Who were they? He had thought it was the Russians, or perhaps the Mob - even the Illuminati. No, it couldn't be, those groups had been trying to kill him for years, yet these people had taken him alive. He looked around, trying to see if he could see a way to break free. All he saw were other shadows along the walls. Dozens. Hundreds. Something clicked in him, though, as he saw the shapes clearly now. Seven.
He rattled the chains again, laughing.
Forty eight. That was the number of exploitable structural fallacies in their current holding cell that Michael had identified in the past eight hours. A surprisingly low number, given the specs of your average cell. A number that dropped even further when you factored in the restraints. Michael wiggled a bit. They'd even bothered to affix his torso to the wall. Someone had been very thorough. A cage like this, well... it may just be inescapable.
Not that that particularly bothered Michael. Picking apart their holding cell had merely been his way of passing the time on their way to Der Fels, nothing more. Not like he could do anything to act on such information in his state anyway. He would've tried conversing, but everyone else was either drugged or appeared markedly unpleasant. We're going to need to attend to that later, Michael thought to himself, wiggling his fingers.
The man directly across from him began guffawing uncontrollably. He was practically bursting at the seams with laughter. Odd. "You there, you alright?"
edited 12th Dec '11 9:08:43 PM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serialBrendan briefly opened his eyes, yep nightmare was still going. He closed them and leant back into the wall. Not that relaxing too much was a good idea, better to lean.
He hadn't really expected it to change. Honestly he'd been waiting for this since he woke up changed in the outback. Maybe he would have been better off running and hiding. Brendan thought he could get away with just ignoring it.
Looked like they'd gloved up his hands and there were even little paddocks holding them uncomfortably tight.
Oh well, worrying wouldn't achieve anything.
You must agree, my plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity! My TumblrGabrielle shifted around trying to find some relief. The restraints on her wrists and ankles had begun to chafe. Her wrists were rather red and sore after the long voyage. Upon hearing that they would arrive in twenty minutes she actually sighed if only because she would be out of these chains.
edited 12th Dec '11 9:06:21 PM by Vossik
"You there, you alright?" A voice - male - asked Leonard.
"ALRIGHT? I took every precaution. I planned for every contingency. I just knew that they would come for me. And here I am, tied to the wall with the lot of you, no better off."
He couldn't mention his vision, the voice could be working for them - just a plant, they might think he knows something.
Wait.
Why is there suddenly a conversation? We've been going without a conversation for hours.
On a slightly more related note, I don't really feel like talking to these people. Especially not the dude that was laughing. He seems nuts. And especially not the green dude. He looks fucked up.
And why would anyone particularly care about the others? I don't recall this being a social exercise.
Well, whatever. "I'm fine."
edited 18th Dec '11 5:52:57 PM by SnowyFoxes
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!"Well, I'm quite sorry that you think so lowly of us. I'd hoped to make a better first impression. Regardless, it appears most of us are still of good health. Rather comforting news, given the circumstances." He moved his head as much as the restraints would allow, gesturing to the world just beyond the door. The paradise past six inches of steel, the one fading ever so slowly from view.
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial"Nice to meet you, Erik, Leonard. Michaelis Lumholtz. I'd shake your hands, but..." He shrugged at his bindings. Things barely let him move. They'd been designed well that way. Elegance and effectiveness through simplicity of design. Again, the attention to detail was rather remarkable.
edited 12th Dec '11 9:57:43 PM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serialBrendan guessed conversation was only happening as a distraction from the looming presence of their destination. Der Fels, it had such a mixed reputation, though he'd only been paying attention for the last couple of months.
"Brendan Xing," Brendan offered nonchalantly, not bothering to open his eyes. He was glad he hadn't made much use of his wings, he probably would feel claustrophobic here. Now that he thought about it...
No don't. The proof by contradiction for the irrationality of the square root of two is...
You must agree, my plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity! My TumblrMichael nodded at Gabby and Brendan, doing his best to smile. He turned his head when he heard the young man next to him speak. What did he say his name was? Cyrus...
"Cyrus... Fenrir, right? Like the apocalyptic wolf of Norse legend?" he said, suddenly recalling the boy's... unique surname. "A very good name. You should proud to carry it. I know I would be."
Looking out the window, his smile faded somewhat. It seemed the crew, guards included, were preparing to disembark. They were standing on Der Fel's doorstep, if not already knocking. "Looks like we're almost there. Tine to see if all the things we've heard about Der Fels are really true."
edited 13th Dec '11 10:02:20 AM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial"HHHAAAKKHH!" A tusklike maw spat out a terrible poison. A mind stirred from its stupor. Not that it was the drugs, but rather actual sleep. "Hey there, gentlemen!" the voice had a jovial cadence to it. He was already about to sell them something. Oh god here it comes— "Name's Oleander Nerium, the very same deadly druglord you mighta heard on the news, the one man drug operation! Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm totally sober. A lifetime of drug use has made me immune! I'm surprised nobody else here has any poison resistance, you know? But, well, I'm talking too much and saying little. It's nice to meet you all. Sirs, ma'am, how would you be interested in forming a temporary prison gang? I say temporary because we wouldn't be much of one when we're broken out."
Okay, poison resistance hint dropped. Maybe they'll spill their hand and tell me if they have any. And a breakout; want to get thet going ASAP.
"... Lovely." Michael quipped.
He'd heard of this guy before. Like he'd said, one man drug operation. Standing before him was the man responsible for over half of Chicago's drug problem. This one would be... interesting to say the least. Best keep an eye on him.
edited 13th Dec '11 1:52:59 PM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial"Mouth off in front of the guards all you want, but I'll pass, thanks. It accomplishes nothing besides pissing them off. Something which seems profoundly unwise for a man in chains, wouldn't you agree?"
He sighed, causing the restraints to sag a little, then rise again with his breath. "Besides, what I 'do' is none of your concern. I am not your toy, neither am I your lackey. If you really wish to see what I'm capable of, I suppose you'll just have to wait until I feel like showing you."
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial"Oh, I see. Fine, I'll get to know you when I get to know you." Oh, plenty of them said they weren't going to be his lackeys. Plenty of them also said that they'd never fall to the charms of a beautiful Heroin. Plenty of them were... actually he very rarely used his clients as muscle, considering his whole thing was being a one-man show. Though, once again, prison gangs were extremely advantageous.

Across the gray, foamy waters of the Southern Pacific, five white lines crawled their way across the waves towards their destination.
The USS Nimitz was positioned in the middle of the formation, flanked to its left and right by smaller destroyers. Until Harvester managed to acquire the procure enough money from its supporting nations to construct its own navy, borrowing ships from the governments that most fervently supported Harvester’s work would have to do.
Inside the brig of the USS Nimitz were eight rather significant individuals; their significance was not known to many, including themselves, and even those who were aware of the eight Machinemen’s importance did not genuinely understand what they only guessed at. For now, however, these important people were stuck in a dark, cold cell on an unfamiliar ship, their hands and feet chained to the walls, with four armed and trained guards outside the cell with one eye constantly trained on their captives and one hand grasped around their rifles. Even beyond that, there were multiple layers of blast door checkpoints that anybody would have to go through in order to exit the containment area of the carrier.
These were the inauspicious beginnings in which the eight Machinemen found themselves. One of the guards received a message on his two-way radio, nodded, and announced, “Twenty minutes until we arrive at Der Fels.”
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