Jennifer8

Prison scenes you say? Woo hoo!

Here comes the tour of the Zig!

Now, this is the part where I would like to give a brief introduction of all of the areas where the players will be hanging out later. Here's my list:

* The Arena!
* The Pit (scaaaary!)
* Solitary Confinement Cells
* Medbay
* The Yard

Does anyone else have any areas they want to be introduced on the tour? If so, now is the time to speak up!

Jen 8)

[ QUOTE ]
"Dr. Julius Greene, gentlemen," the aging englishman says in a clear and proud tone, "Prisoner number-ooouuff!" he grunts and falls over as a baton butt slams into his stomach "dandy, we know who you are!" The guard screams into his face. "Get moving."

[/ QUOTE ]

Penny paid close attention to the names down the line, thinking they might be important later. But she didn't have much time to consider them, for as soon as names and numbers had been established, and registered into the touch-pad that the captain had with him, they were being herded someplace else.

Penny offered a hand up to the Brit without even being aware she was doing it, for she was watching the guards. A moment later they were all being hustled inside. She looked up briefly at the sunset and wondered when she would see the sky again, before ducking her head and moving with the rest.

The strip-searches were as extensive as she had expected them to be. She had thought that the guards might give her trouble over the body-armor, but there were several individuals in line, both male and female, who had similiarly grafted armors, or even robotic body parts. The guards snarled at her, but her jumpsuit was returned, and she was put back in line.

"Line up for the tour, you scum!" One of the guards shouted. "You WILL keep pace! Now move!"

[ QUOTE ]
“You give me your prison number, maggot, and you ain’t no Fv(%ing Archon in here. You’re just a piece of $#!t convict like the rest, you read me?” The guard was very efficient in his dispensing of pain. Michael had been here before, he gritted his teeth and tried again. “Helsinger, Michael, eight eight four dash six one six.” The guard moved on.

[/ QUOTE ]

Penny stumbled a little when Michael bumped her on the flier, but the guards didn't notice. The slight stiffness of the body armor was apparant under the orange jumpsuit when she was bumped, but otherwise it was all but invisible. She moved quite freely, or would have save for the restraints.

She gave the sky a long look when she exited the flier; but not any longer or harder than she looked at anything else. Her eyes continued to move, looking over the high guard towers and great wall, the courtyard with guards moving here and there, the other fliers lined up in neat rows, and the old, gray prison building.

The flier guards were met by some other guards who were similiarly dressed. This new bunch of guards had a leader, though Penny didn't know who else would know that: in traditional Longbow style, it was only his insignia that marked him as such.

"Fresh meat for the Zig," he growled, and some of the other guards smirked. His electric rod looked exactly like the others, but the occasional sparks it produced had a purplish tone. She took due note of the color before shuffling out with all of the other prisoners.

The Captain took over shouting from the flier guards. "All right you #$(%*&!" He shouted. "You're fresh meat for the Zig! Line up over there in rows ten deep! MOVE!"

Penny moved.

She stuck close to the Brit, which was easy to do as everyone was bunched up. She managed to manuver almost to the very end of the row.

She had hoped to watch the guards as they went along the row, but they started at her end, with the big man at the corner, then the fellow who had bumped into her on the flier, before moving on to her.

"Name and prisoner number!" Barked the Captain.

Penny opened her mouth and then paused. She couldn't remember her last name. It had fallen into the black hole which seemed to have swallowed so much of her life.

The Captain didn't appreciate the delay. "Name and prison number!" He shouted again.

The purple rod was powered by plasma energy. The body armor dispersed the shock, but the force of the blow was still enough to knock her off her feet. "Get up and answer the question!" he howled at her.

Penny scrambled to her feet. "Penny - 42200179," she stammered.

"Your FULL name you #$(&^!" She was prepared for the blow this time, though the simple difference in weight and size meant it didn't make much difference.

"I don't remember."

He raised the plasma rod again.

"I don't remember!" She knew she must be brave now that she was in the Zig, but she couldn't help but flinch from his upraised hand.

He paused, glaring at her, but lowered his hand, smirking. "I bet you don't," he spat, but moved on to the next person.

Penny looked after him as he moved down the row. What, she wondered had he meant by that?

[ QUOTE ]
"Well, my dear," the englishman says, "The only way to answer this question is with another. What do you know? What information could you possibly sell someone?"

He looks around at other active prisoners in the room, "It isn't hard to imagine what the rest of us are in for... but you must've had some highly dangerous intelligence if you ended up with us."

[/ QUOTE ]

"Well," Penny mused thoughtfully, "I had access to - "

But exactly what she had had access to remained an unknown. The flier, which had been descending for several minutes, now gave a muted shudder which indicated to all on board that it had touched down.

Almost at once, the door opened back up, and three guards appeared. The first one was among them, but he had been joined by two more, who both seemed to be as heavily armed as the first one. "All right," shouted the first one, "you #$(*&, stand up and exit the flier," he pointed to the opening hatch beyond. The rod he held in his hand sparked threateningly. "Now MOVE!" He looked quite ready to strike anyone who was too slow.

[ QUOTE ]


"What kind of information," the man pressed, his interest piqued from her strange behavior. If there was one thing a prisoner could describe, it was how they ended up here. This girl's vague explanations had sparked his curiousity.

[/ QUOTE ]

"Er - " she looked marginally alarmed, not at him, but at his question. "The - it - I - " She sighed. "OK, you have me. I don't know. I don't remember. I presume they hit me with something... I am not sure."

Her brows furrowed. "But it is a good question. What would I have sold? Weapons technologies depreciate too quickly... whats-his-name in the black cowl has the algorythym market completely locked up... security coding is so situational..." She sat back against the wall, "It might have been some sort of hardware, maybe. People get wierd over hardware... you get collectors and things... it must have been something like that... don't you think so?" She was frowning now, with her brows furrowed.

[ QUOTE ]

Someone in the shadows of the flier scoffed, leaning back. He seemed normal enough, except his hands were entirely covered by gloves, and his face by a make-shift hood, but other than that, normal.

"I don't know what rumors you heard, girl," he muttered casually, "But they're probably true. Villains aren't known for their openness, but when it comes to the Zig, most find it rather hard to lie about."

He leaned forward from the shadows, grinning... But his skinless face looked grotesque in such a grin, his skull having to cause the emotion, "But then, you must be pretty strong or smart to get yourself in here... Tell me, what on earth did an innocent girl like you do?

[/ QUOTE ]

There was something in the way that Penny looked at him that hinted she might possibly be more than she seemed. She didn't seem alarmed by his skeletal appearance, though there was some cautious respect in her face. Her return gaze was almost... appraising. As if carefully sizing him up.

But the look passed quickly when she heard his question. Her brows furrowed uncertainly and a vague dullness crept over her otherwise-bright eyes. She looked almost confused at the question. "Well, I..." Her voice trailed off. "... surely there must have been charges?" She said it not directly to him, but almost to herself.

"Information brokering," she said just after this. "Selling secret... secrets... that type of thing." But her furrowed brows, and the slighly-confused look in her eyes, hinted that she hadn't any idea of why she was here. She had presented her best guess.

"Er... what are you in for?" Her voice was awkward, but she seemed genuinely interested.

[ QUOTE ]
"It is simply ironic," he continues, with a distinctive british aristocratic drawl, "That those who call themselves heroes are just as ill-mannered as we "criminals". And with a lady present, too," he gazes at Penny, "They ought to be ashamed of themselves..."

[/ QUOTE ]

Penny wasn't sure how to respond to this. Her sense of disorientation had not decreased; if anything it had become stronger.

She knew she was going to jail, though she was uncertain of how this had come about. She didn't remember getting into the flier... didn't remember much of anything. She remembered Jason, but couldn't recall, now, exactly what he had looked like.

You need to try and get over Jason. The line came unbidden to her head. Where had she heard that? Had one of the people here said that? No... she didn't think so... she thought perhaps that had been said earlier, by someone else entirely, though she wasn't sure who.

Still... the thought, whoever had said it, was correct. This was a new life... time to leave the old things behind. Whatever they had been - whoever she had been - it didn't matter now.

Her thoughts turned to the shouting guard. She was quite certain that she had witnessed true heroism in the past, and equally certain that this person didn't embody it. "He's not a hero," she mumbled, partially in response to the statement, and partially to herself. "He's just a guard."

She was distracted from the statement by a sudden awareness of her hands, which she had been observing, but not really seeing. They were black, encased in some delicate-looking mesh. Surely not part of the Zig uniform? And now that she had become aware of it, she could feel the firm, slightly heavy caress of body armor under the orange jumpsuit. Body armor? Why had they left her her body armor?

Because they couldn't get it off, that's why.

Again, the thought came from nowhere, and while it didn't feel quite true, she knew that it was. No one in a ordinary lock-up would have been permitted such a thing: but in the Zig, full of criminal "supers," body armor hardly mattered, and might even improve her chances for survival.

She found herself chilled at that thought and her thoughts returned to her fellow prisoners. Both of them looked as if they would be quite at home here, as if they had been in and out of lockups before, and were used to the system. Penny's sole brushes with the law had been in the form of parking tickets, though she was certain she must have had an extensive criminal background to be sent to this place.

She worried suddenly that they would think she was trying to argue with them. She was young, with an honest face, something that would not serve her well here. She didn't know it, but she looked as if she ought to have been sent to Juvenile Hall, rather than the maximum-security Zig.

"Er - I mean - " she said hastily, trying to make her last statement seem less argumentative. Her voice trailed off momentarily - she wasn't certain how to recover. "I've heard rumors about this place," she finally fumbled on. "Are they true?"

It wasn't a spectacular beginning, and she supposed she would get a reputation right away for being a kid whom people would pick on. But it couldn't be helped now.

OK everyone!

The thread is now open for business, woo!

Don't worry, everyone will have a chance to pester the guard when the flier lands. I wanted to give everyone a chance to introduce their character and perhaps have some conversation first.

A word of note: the flier only holds a small number of people (which is fine as we have had only a small number of sign ups.) If we have anyone who wants to join later, they can be in the yard when the flier lands.

Have fun!

Penny blinked as her vision cleared. She was staring at angry faces in front of an oddly-curved, otherwise blank wall. All of the people facing her were chained together, and wearing orange jumpsuits. She recognized the jumpsuits - the zig?

Her head ached. She lifted her hand to rub at the sore spot, only to discover that her hand didn't go anywhere. She was shackled too, and wearing an orange jumpsuit, like the rest of the prisoners here. Looking down she saw that there was no name on her jumpsuit, just a number - 42200179. She was a prisoner then?

She might have asked a question, but to her left a door suddenly slammed open. A man stepped through it: he wore the red and white uniform of a longbow agent. Even for a longbow agent, he was unusually heavily armed. He scowled at them with the cold stare of a man who was used to dealing with unruly prisoners.

"All right you #$(*%(!" He spat at them, and Penny wasn't the only one who jumped a little. "We're landing at the Zig in five minutes! Upon arrival you WILL stand up and file out in an orderly fashion! And there will be no wiseguys!" He had a long rod in his hand - it looked like a cattle prod. It sparked alarmingly in the air for a moment, and then before anyone could say anything, he went back to the room he had come from, and slammed the door behind him.

"Penny."

Penny opened her eyes. Above her was a man she did not know, with dark hair and glasses. He had one of her IV tubes in his hand. Next to him was a woman, standing partially in shadow. She couldn't see him very well.

"We're going to give you some psychic protection against the Arachnos telepaths," the man said. His voice was oddly stiff, as if he wasn't used to having to dispense such a mundane thing as a beside manner. He added the contents of a syringe to the IV tube, and the liquid inside turned an odd, reddish color. "Don't worry."

Her eyes half closed. "...but..."

"Don't worry," the man repeated. His voice was hard, not comforting.

The other figure stepped forwards. She had the tall hat and long, flowing coat of an Arachnos telepath. Its colors designated one of the Fortunata clans. The man stepped back, and she could see the glitter of the spider on his Arachnos uniform, not quite hidden by the stolen lab coat. She was in trouble.

Her eyes floated to the tube still attached to her arm, now a deep, dark red. Then she closed them and went to sleep.

The Arachnos woman spoke for the first time. "She's unconscious?"

"She'll sleep for hours."

"The guards will be found before then." The Fortunata didn't yet approach the bed, looking down at its occupant. "You are sure this plan will work?"

"So far everything has worked perfectly. Paragon believes that Girl Genius is responsible for certain crimes - "

"For our work, you mean," the woman frowned, "I don't like giving credit where it isn't due, and frame-ups are notoriously unreliable."

"Well, they bought it, hook, line, and sinker. Even she believes it."

"Hmph," Fortunata stepped forwards. "This is an awful risk. I needn't tell you the consequences if it fails."

"It will work."

"It had better." The Fortunata placed her hands over Penny's ears.

Penny had a long and very detailed dream.

She opened her eyes to see that she was floating, looking down at a house in a field, surrounded by impassible trees. It looked like a nice house, very lived in, with trails leading here and there. It had a sound roof and a garden with flowers... a nice house. From the roof also floated a silver string, but the string had been cut. Penny looked at her wrist and saw that there was a string there also, tied in a loose bow, of the same color as the string tied to the house. The string on her wrist had also been cut, but it had been re-tied to a string of a totally different color - a wicked, cruel red - which issued from one of the thick trees surrounding the house. It was this string which anchored her in place.

She looked back at the house. It seemed familiar. She felt as if she should recognize it, or have some feeling for it, but she didn't. She felt remote, disconnected. The end of the silver string, dangling on top of the house, sparked a little.

From the dense forest issue a black wave. She thought at first that it was water, but upon gazing at it, she saw that it was actually made of countless, small, black, spiders. An odd emotion issued through her, but she couldn't identify what it was. The thread on the house sparked in a rather hopeless manner.

The spiders swarmed the house.

Penny thought at first that the spiders might eat the occupants of the house: but it seemed to be empty. They split into two large masses, both working frantically. It became rapidly apparant that the first group of spiders, in the field, were digging an enormous hole: the actions of the second group were more mysterious. The hole expanded rapidly under the hard work of the spiders. In seemingly no time, it was big enough to swallow the house.

It seems that the spiders had planned it that way, for no sooner had the hole been dug when the first group of spiders joined the second, and systematically disassembled the house. Rather than being destroyed, the house was taken apart nail by nail. The outer walls went first, so fast that it almost looked as if they had exploded outwards. This seemed as if it should have been awful; but Penny could summon no great emotion in watching it.

After the walls went the ceiling, so that she could see the inside of the house, which was being dismantled also. Determined and methodical, the spiders took apart the interior as cleanly and completely as the roof and walls. She could tell what the rooms were briefly - kitchen, bedroom - before they were gone. The supporting structures and beams of the house were soon exposed, and in a surprisingly short time, the skeleton of the former house stood alone on the hillside.

Still seemingly determined, the spiders streamed to the hole in long uneven lines. Each spider carried a bit of the house: a nail, a screw, a shingle, a bit of wire. Larger groups of spiders worked together to carry larger items like panes of glass, and absolute swarms were required to carry very large things like doors. Large and small, they streamed to the hole in uncounted millions, working frantically.

In the depths of the hole, the floor of the house began to take shape. The spiders reassembled its pieces as if working a gigantic jigsaw puzzle. Earth was packed in the spaces where the skeleton of the house had not been placed, and around the earthen pillars, the house grew with surprising speed. Stairs sprouted among the roiling black mass: walls grew up; furniture wove sluggishly to its proper place. In a very short time, the rooms of the house were as pristine and perfect as they had undoubtedly been on the hillside. The last thing to reform was the roof, which cut off Penny's last glimpse of the cozy living areas. Their job completed, the spiders streamed out of the hole again. The house looked exactly as it had before. Only its location had changed. The spiders paused for a moment, surrounding the hole, twenty feet deep on every side, looking down at the house in the depths of the earth.

Then they buried it.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time, and when they had finished, only a large brown spot of packed earth showed where the house was entombed. Only the skeleton of the home, bare and gaunt on the hillside, showed that it had ever once stood in the sunshine.

The spiders approached this skeleton, swarming over every inch of the exposed beams and rafters, and began madly spinning webs. This took longer then removing and reassembling the house had taken. But presently, the floor and walls took shape, ghostly and transluscent. In time, Penny could make out other shapes: shapes of furniture, couches and curtains, bookshelves, even individual books.

She had been fairly high during this entire process, watching from above: but now she began to float nearer. She was not anxious to touch the spiders, but they seemed equally anxious not to touch her, for they scattered away from the area where she would touch down. Down she came, down, down, down, until she landed lightly upon the front steps, facing her own front door. It could not have been woven more perfectly, down to the texture of the wood, the dings of the doorknob, and the panes of transparent glass.

She reached out and grasped the doorknob. It was solid, as if it had had a genuine doorknob underneath - but one that had been tightly wrapped in silk. It turned under her hand, and she opened the door and stepped inside.

The living room was rather eerie. It seemed to look just as it had before, with a couch and bookshelves, and large bright windows, and a fireplace. But none of it was real. If she looked very closely, she could see the spiderwebs from which everything had been woven. The fire in the fireplace was not real, but was rather several pieces of ragged, brilliant silk, which ruffled in the breeze in a firelike way. It was a cold house, and she shivered in front of the false, teasing silken flames.

From everywhere and nowhere she heard a voice: "This is your home now. This is where you will live."

And she woke with a start.

EXAMPLE:

Character Name: Penny Arcade

Character Gender: Female, Age 20

Known Powers: None, but extensive resources in robotics and other technological gadgetry.

Brief Physical Description: Penny Arcade is tall and willowy, with brown hair invariably tied in a ponytail. Although she wears the typical orange jumpsuit of a Zig prisoner, underneath she wears sophisticated body armor. The authorities have not been able to find a way to remove it. It is believed that all of its previous functionality has been removed.

History in a nutshell: Penny Arcade was arrested by sheer luck on the part of the authorities. Known as an information broker and petty theft artist, there seems to be no reason why her file should be classified. Nor, as a non-superpowered human, does there seem to be any reason for her to have been sent to the Zig instead of a lesser-security facility, or be housed with the often-violent "supers".

This is great! Welcome, everyone!

Re-reading my opening post, I realize I probably should have been more specific, so here are some additional details as to my plans.

First of all, I was hoping to have a storyline where the group of characters would "bond" while in prison. The idea, of course, is to remain more-or-less as a group after the escape, and then to face the oncoming Paragon City forces together. Because of this, there are some sorts of "prison" things - I think specifically of solitary confinement here - that I intended to use relatively sparingly (which is not to say that it won't come up, of course.) I was thinking of other sorts of "prison" things (the arena is a wondeful idea) as a more common usage, because they give the characters a chance to interact with each other ("You two! You're paired for this match! Go!") Also, there will be "secret spy" sorts of things going on in the background.

I would like to get some character information in this thread. I have opened the "before the breakout" thread and am working on getting it up to the Zig (it will be several posts but should be soonish.)

In the meantime if everyone could post their:

Character Name

Character Gender

Known Powers

Brief Physical Description

History in a nutshell


Thanks
Jen

Paragon City hospitals could be crowded at the best of times. But this one seemed filled to bursting: doctors and nurses picked their way down hallways narrowed by makeshift beds, lining both sides of the walls. In spite of the number of people, things seemed to be fairly quiet. Most patients were sleeping.

Six people navigated deftly through the narrow corridors. Two wore the bright red-and-white uniforms of longbow agents. Four wore business suits, three men and one woman: all four of the suited individuals carried briefcases.

They door they approached was surprisingly heavily guarded. More longbow agents were there, alert and angry looking. The suited woman approached one of these and spoke to him briefly. He nodded and stepped aside to allow them to pass. But before they could do so, the door opened, and a woman stepped out.

"Hey, hey, hey!" She was dark-skinned and dark-eyed, her frizzled and graying hair trying to escape the bun it had been caught in, her severe glasses flashing in the sharp hospital lighting. She wore blue scrubs that looked as if they had been slept in. They were unmarked save for a small piece of embroidery that read, "Dr. Stanton." She glowered at them with the attitude of a tiger looking at its prey. "No one told you that you could go there!" She said as she closed the door.

"I don't need permission," the suited woman turned, her blond hair and gray business suit as crisp and sharp as if she had just stepped from a salon.

"Ruth Meyers," Dr. Stanton shot back, making no attempt to move, "You have a library full of law books. You must know what's in them, or are they just for show?"

"Girl Genius is under arrest," interjected one of the men in chilling tones.

"Girl Genius saved a lot of lives," shot back Dr. Stanton. "A *LOT* of lives. You see all of these people? If Girl Genius hadn't done what she did, they - would - be - dead. All of them. We would be swimming in corpses by now. Go on, look at them!"

"Be that as it may, we have the right to interrogate - "

"Not against a doctor's orders you don't," snapped Dr. Stanton, "And as her attending physician I am telling you that six people barging in is too many. Everything is over, everyone who is going to die has already done so, and everyone who didn't die is going to make it. You can wait."

"Esther," Ruth said, and her tone had softened, "We have to talk to her. It can't wait."

Dr. Meyers growled and thinned her lips. "Fine," she said, "ONE of you go in and talk to her. Not six. ONE. The rest wait outside."

"Girl Genius is highly dangerous - "

"When she is in her suit, I am sure that is true," returned Dr. Stanton, unmoved.

Ruth rubbed the bridge of her nose as if trying to rub out a new ache. "Is she even awake?"

"Finally," Dr. Stanton responded, who looked as if she had had a very long night. "She'll definitely pull through. But she's too weak for half a dozen visitors, Ruth, I mean it."

The two women glared at each other for a few minutes. "All right," Ruth said at last, "I'll go in alone." All four Longbow agents looked alarmed, as well as the other lawyers.

"Are you sure that is wise?" This came from the longbow captain, who had spoken for the first time.

"I'll be all right. I'll call if I need anything."

"Softly," growled Dr. Stanton, who had her arms crossed.

"Softly," agreed Ruth. "All right?"

There was a silence. "You have five minutes," Dr. Stanton growled. "And if there are any changes in her life-sign readings, I personally will throw you out on your ear. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Dr. Stanton stepped aside.

"Ruth - " This was from another one of the lawyers. All three of them were looking concerned. One of the longbow agents was talking softly into his comm-unit.

"I'll be all right," she said with a confidant smile, the first smile she had showed since she came into the building, and walked through the door.

In spite of the overcrowding of the area, the room held a single occupant. She was a young girl with brown hair, tall and willowy, who looked as if she might have been nineteen, but certainly not older. Behind her, life-support machines beeped and hummed. A few looked as if they had been pushed aside mere moments before. Dr. Stanton had been right - six people barging in would have been too many.

There was a chair nearby. Ruth pulled it up and sat down in it. The girl in the bed didn't respond. Her skin was so porcelain-pale, and her breathing so delicate, that had it not been for the patient beeping of the machines behind her, Ruth would have thought her dead. "Girl Genius?" She said softly. There was no response. "Girl Genius?" She said again. "Penny? Penny, it's Ruth - wake up." She touched her hand briefly, careful not to bother the mesh of wires and tubes. "I need you to wake up now."

Penny's eyes opened.

"Can you talk?" Ruth's voice was urgent.

Penny gave some smile. "...morning..." her voice was low and very hoarse, but audible. Though clearly very weak, her eyes seemed almost as bright as ever.

"You know what's happened?"

"...serum worked...?"

"It worked," Ruth said reassuringly. "Don't worry, Penny, it worked. The docs say no one else will die."

"...how many deaths...?"

"Don't worry about that now - "

"...stop it... I can take it... how many?"

Ruth hesitated, but the look on Penny's face was so ferocious that she knew the girl wasn't going to let it go. "About two hundred."

Penny's eyes flooded. "... wasn't fast enough... damn..."

"Those deaths weren't your fault."

"...and... ones that were...?"

Ruth's brows furrowed. "I want you to know how complicated you have made my life," she growled.

"...under arrest...?"

"Of course you are. What else could we do? You knew what you were doing."

"...tried... to avoid casualties... does that matter?"

"Naturally it matters. If you were a cop, you would be placed on paid leave while the incident was investigated. But you are a contracted test pilot, a civilian, and I just don't have that sort of leeway."

"...so... what happens now...? Trial... Stronghold? Rikers? Devil's Isle?"

"You have no inherent super-powers on your own," Ruth said, "Normally there would be a trial. If convicted, you'd be sent to the appropriate facility to serve your sentence... likely Rikers. But..."

Penny's eyebrows shot into her hairline with some energy, considering her position. "...but...?"

"But you've done something remarkable - something that very, very few people have done and survived." Ruth looked at Penny significantly. "You've opened the door to Arachnos."

Penny blinked. "...say that again...?"

"The base where you got the serum was an Arachnos base. By the way, excellent job in selecting the design to sell to them for it - that agent will have a lot of explaning to do when his superiors realize he sold you the critical antidote in exchange for a suit design they already had," she chuckled momentarily, before her face again became solemn. "But nevertheless, you survived the encounter, and the door is open. We want you to go back." Her eyes searched Penny's face. "We want you to infiltrate Arachnos."

There was a silence. "...don't have the clearance for that..."

"I know," Ruth said heavily. "But it's the only chance we will have for this. You were there at the base, you know what Arachnos is planning. They have got to be stopped. It would be a long-term, open-ended assignment, under deep cover. You would be given a new cover, and your origins would be known to a few at Arachnos, but no one else. Girl Genius will be 'missing' after her successful and heroic attempts to stop the Arachnos bio attack, and your new persona would go to Arachnos, and feed us any information you can."

"...at the end of which I would be killed..." Penny was frowning. "...arachnos doesn't mess around... when they find out..."

"We would have a prearranged extraction point. You would have to make it there, and we would get you out."

"...if I could make it that far..."

There was a silence. "If you could make it that far," Ruth agreed. "I won't lie to you about your chances if you screw it up."

"...and if I refuse...?"

"I press Article 114, which permits your trial in front of a judge instead of a jury. If convicted under Article 114, you'll be sent to the Zig as a registered super-powered individual," her voice was hard.

Penny's face was hard too. "...and if I agree...?"

"I press Article 114, which permits your trial in front of a judge instead of a jury. If convicted under Article 114, you'll be sent to the Zig as a registered super-powered individual. I use my discretionary authority to register you as a danger to yourself and others, strictly limiting your contact with the general population of the Zig, particularly those super-powered individuals who will not be kind to an unpowered ex-superhero. You'll be issued a set of body armor which we conveniently 'can't remove' and you will be issued a nanite-rifle, a stock of raw nanites and a series of self-repairing drones - all the basic equipment you will need to make contact with Arachnos and begin infiltration."

There was a long silence. Ruth pretended to shuffle papers in her briefcase while Penny wiped her eyes. "...what will you tell Jason...?"

"Penny..." Ruth's voice was gentle for the first time, "You need to try and get over Jason."

"...yeah, I... I know..." Penny's voice sounded if she had swallowed something bitter. "...he'll be assigned... to another pilot...?"

"Yes, certainly. Only the best, Penny, I promise you that."

Penny smiled ruefully. "...if you make sure... she is my same size... give him that new equipment he has been trying to requisition... he may not even notice that I am gone..."

"Does that mean you are in?"

"...do I have a choice...?"

"No. There's too much at stake - this comes right from the top. There's too much at stake. I am sorry to do this to you."

"...then... I guess I am in..."

"You'll get more information when you have recovered," Ruth said, and rose to go as Dr. Stanton opened the door.

Hello everyone!

After a very, very long absence, I am back, and would like to begin a semi-structured open-RP thread. I am starting the thread more-or-less where I was when I left for my haitus: i.e., upon the release of the "city of villians" game.

Here are the rules I would like to have in place:

* No God-Moding! Try not to "fix" other character's problems or play them without their consent!
* While this will be a 'mature role play' thread, please no profanity or flames. I would like to have a thread where the players treat each other with respect.
* I will start a separate thread for ooc comments.
* While we all know that the characters will break out of the Zig, I didn't want to rush to the breakout right away. I would like to have some posts establishing characters and also showing what day-to-day life in the Zig is like.
* After the breakout, there will be a period of time with Arachnos, and then the forces of Paragon city will attack Mercy Island!

There is so much potential story in this section of time that I haven't planned too much past that, though of course we could go beyond that point at that time.

Who wants to go to the Zig? Hope we will have lots of sign ups, it should be lots of fun!

Jen 8)

BOOM!

The force of the explosion knocked me clean off of my bunk, throwing me across the room and into the wall. The lights went out, leaving me in complete darkness for a moment, before returning - but this time, in a dark, deep red. Emergency lighting only. The explosion, whatever it was, had cut the power.

Outside, alarms and sirens jangled into life. My ears, however, were preoccupied with a more pleasant noise: the humming noise of the armor as it powered up. Cutting the power had also cut the jamming field. In seconds it was at a quarter charge. It should be at full capacity in just over two minutes.

Another pleasant though struck me. I went to my cell door, and pushed on it, without even bothering to engage the power servos in the suit.

It opened, sliding easily into its slot in the wall, and I stepped outside.

I had expected to see chaos, and in this I was not disappointed. Having been placed in the paranormal section of the facility, a crowd of colorful characters were running around, joyfully burning, freezing, electrifying, and punching anything that they could find. Most of them were on the ground floor. I headed downstairs myself, after stopping for a moment to satisfy a passing curiousity by visiting the cell of the Bug Man, who was rumored to have escaped the Zig unaided.

Though I hardly appeared to be the toughest member of the crowd, the poor dented battle armor must have looked impressive somehow, for no one bothered me too much. I heard whispers through the crowd: "Arachnos!"

Well, this was an unexpected turn of events... but it made sense. Statesman's strike on Mercy Island, though ultimately unsuccessful, had still landed scores of Arachnos paranormals in the Zig... just like I, myself, had been captured in the aftermath of the strike and sent here.

From Arachnos point of view, the timing would be wonderful: the Paragon heroes would be exhausted and reeling, and almost all of the back-up support would be away... what better time to strike the Zig, and get back many, if not all, of their captured paranormals? Not to mention any extras who chose to come: a nice bonus for Arachnos, indeed.

Since I was physically in Paragon, I could check official channels - and, sure enough, the hit was confirmed Arachnos. The channels were alive with chatter. As I suspected, the heroic complement that would normally have turned out at such a daring move had not arrived in any meaningful numbers. Arachnos was determined to answer Statesman's strike and, in this venture at least, it appeared as if they would be successful.

Time to go.

I sent in for clearance, and set about to find the Arachnos operatives who were on the premises, get back to my mission... and find out what had gone wrong.

When I woke up, the first thing I was aware of was my head. It hurt. When I went to rub it, though, my hand clanked against metal: I was still in my power armor. In younger and more innocent days, I might have taken off my helmet and tried the rub the soreness out of my skull. Nowadays, though, I knew better.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a concrete cell. No windows, one wall consisted of nothing but bars. For a while second, I thought that I had been discovered - but then reason caught up with my senses. No, these were not Arachnos prison cells, with their eerie appearance and their plethora of devices designed to make people "talk." This was a vanilla-standard jail cell, Paragon City style. Which meant that I had been captured by...

... well, who had I been captured by? I couldn't recall. Longbow, most likely. I sat up on my bunk and tried to think. The fight on Mercy Isle had been nothing short of flat-out war. I had never experienced anything like it. At the time I had been far too busy, between lasers, explosions, and the distractions of battle, to do much reflection about its course. But now...

I checked the battle-suit. It really was a battle-suit now, in truth as well as in name, and its scarred, pock-marked surfaces bore mute testament to the ferocity of the fighting that I had gone through. The vast majority of the systems were down, some from actual damage, but it looked as if most were under the influence of a power-suppression field.

All of which made sense for a Paragon jail cell. This was certainly a temporary holding facility in which I had been placed until the power armor could be cracked. That would require a team of specialists going over it with a microscope, and apparantly said specialists weren't available at the moment.

Through the bars I could hear a voice, and going to the cell door and looking, I could see a television set, sort of down the hall. It was too far away to see under normal circumstances: but the lenses in the helmet had a manual zoom, and someone had turned up the volume. It was Statesman: he was making an announcement.

"Should the assault be considered a failure?" I recognized the voice; it was some guy from the Paragon Tattler. I had had trouble with him myself from time to time.

Statesman said, “Absolutely not. It is true that Lord Recluse’s defenses were far more entrenched than we had believed; the shores teemed with brutish minions and the skies swarmed with sinister forms. But the combined force of the Freedom Phalanx and Longbow rocked the Rogue Isles with our might. The Strike can be seen as a success in that we carried the battle to the very doorstep of darkness. We have shown them that the heroic men and women of Paragon City will not sit idly by and wait for the vile assassins of Arachnos to attack first...."

I stared disbelievingly at the screen.

Lord Recluse’s defenses were far more entrenched than he had believed?

How could he say that?

I had spent a month on Mercy Isle, four solid weeks, every moment of them in terror that someone would find out my double-agent status, and I would be shot or far, far worse. Arachnos was not kind to spies - I knew full well what would happen to me if it had been known that I had been passing information on to Paragon...

But I had been successful! Hadn't I? Statesman should have known what the fortifications on Mercy Island were - I took pictures of them! He should have known what the defenses were like - I told him!

Well... no... not him, himself. I sent reports in as I had been assigned to do. I had been assigned to infiltrate Mercy Island, gather intelligence, and send it to Paragon, and I had done this... but somehow the information had not gotten to Statesman, Freedom Phalanx, or, apparantly, anyone who had had charge of planning the assault on Mercy Island.

That meant that either (a) the higher-ups had received the information and discarded it as unreliable or (b) someone had intercepted the information, somewhere between the intelligence gathering and the attack planning stages.

And that did not bode well. Had my identity been compromised? Almost certainly not - after all I was here, and alive, and appeared to be under arrest, same as any thug might expect in Paragon. If the Paragon Justice Department had been fooled into accepting the false "Villian" identity that the Paragon City Science guys had cooked up for me, than surely Arachnos must have.

What, then, was happening in the upper ranks?

And, more importantly, what was I going to do about it?

For the moment, I decided, I was going to sit tight. The last orders I had received, just before the Mercy Island battle, had been quite clear: I was not to blow my cover. I was to observe, photograph, send back data, and wait. Not only had those orders not been rescinded, but there was no one currently here that had sufficient security clearance to be able to rescind them. No one in whom I could confide.

Looks like I'm going to be spending some time in the Zig.

I shook my head at the TV as Statesman flashed off of it and the news briefing moved on. If the higher-ups decided I had filled my purpose, they could simply leave me here, to rot. Nothing to do now but wait for new orders that might never be forthcoming... damn. Damn damn damn....

Better make sure the power armor is up to snuff, though.

Just in case....

Girl Genius lauched herself into the air, just in time, but barely. Behind her the pavement shattered into pebbles as the enormous metal sledge impacted it. A moment later the shockwave caught her, spinning her like a toy in midair, and she hung there for a moment, stunned. The jetpack could be finicky at such times, its jets automatically shutting down for safety's sake, but the antigravs were solid as ever, holding her in midair, above the street and momentarily out of reach while the furious gang member looked to see where she had gone.

As a rule of thumb, Girl Genius tried not to pick fights in places like Founders Falls. Not only was there collateral damage to be thought about, but there were sections of the area which were inhabited by the ultra-rich, people who she had found to be more litigation prone than the general population.

Now, however, she had little option.

It was the Stunner that spotted her first. "There!" He howled to his companions, and shot after her as she shook off the shockwave, re-engaged the jetpacks, and rose to meet him.

Though she loved her jet-packs, arial battles were not her favorites. The Freakshow could be particularly troublesome about it, as they were proving this afternoon. The Stunner gave her an insane, maniacal cackle as he raised his fists, and filled the sky with lightning.

The insulation of the suit absorbed the most of it, and the grounders in her boots took the rest of the load. From the alarming way that her power reserves dropped, though, it was clear that she wouldn't be able to take too many of these hits.

She pointed her fist. The ice suit was one of her favorites; it was fortunate that it had been the one she was testing when she had come across the Freaks. Now combat data raced across the inside of her faceplate. Nano-gyros whirred into action as targeting icons locked on her opponent.

The blast made surprisingly little noise. The air temperature dropped as crystals of ice formed, flying through the air to plaster themselves around the head of the stunner. "Yaaaaaa!" He yowled, and dropped, giving her a moment to breathe. The members of the Freakshow were generally too drugged up to notice much pain, but the ice around his head had caught him by surprise. It would take him a moment to break it off so that he could see again, but it gave her enough time to let loose a second shot, icing up some of the equipment bolted to his frame.

It was the combat AI that alerted her to the movements of the Smasher below. She turned to see the headlights and grille of an old, rusty Buick sailing at her, looking ridiculously out of place some fifty feet in the air. For a moment she stared at it, thinking, He couldn't have thrown it, not with one hand... he must have hit it, like a golfer. The enormous dent in the side of the Buick, making it almost boomerang-shaped, seemed to support the conclusion.

Then reason caught up with her eyes, and she cut power to both jetpacks and the antigrav, dropping abruptly as the Buick missed her head by inches. Once clear, she re-engaged the antigrav, turning in time to see the car smash through the plate-glass windows of an expensive building; it looked like an apartment complex of some sort. That's torn it, she thought grimly. So much for trying to avoid collateral damage...

Then the AI beeped at her again, and she dodged the enormous metal hammer as the Smasher leaped in the air, trying to knock her down...

((OOC Hiya! I have been hoping for a new RP thread! I hope you don't mind some excitement right off the bat?

PS. Also, I imagine that the broken windows don't necessarily have to be yours - perhaps they are just nearby. ))

[ QUOTE ]

Suddenly the van hit a bump and speed and the whole thing jumped and slammed down into the ground again. All manner of objects feel of shelves in the van and clanged to the floor. Harris was thrown of his feet. He reached out desperately to regain his balance but only grabbed empty air. A sickening feeling gripped his stomach as he realized (in what almost felt like slow motion) that he was falling out the back of the van.

In a second attempt at desperation he reached out again and this time managed to grab the top of the open, swing back door. His legs span out and he slammed back into the door with a force that made it feel like his arm was going to get pulled out of it socket. He was dangling over the street as the van carried on speeding along its way.

During his fall he had lost his grip on the camera. As he panicked to get a better grip he saw the shoulder strap had gotten snagged on the door handle. He tried to reach out for it. It was just at his fingertips. He could see it slowly slipping. He started to forget about his own safety and just wanted to get the camera no matter what.

[/ QUOTE ]

A gloved hand reached out and pulled him hard, while its mate threw a makeshift, icy barrier in the doorway. They wouldn't be able to close the doors, but Harris was in much less danger of sliding out now.

As a bonus, the ice had snagged the end of the camera strap. It wouldn't delay it long - the supercold ice was melting at a phenomenal rate - but he had a better chance to get it, if he acted quickly.

"Is this front or rear wheel drive?" Penny screamed.

"Front," shouted back Jim.

"Thank goodness for small favors," she muttered, and then shouted, "Turn on the heater as high as it will go! Harris, get your [censored] in here and put on your seat belt! Head for the pier and don't look back!"

An enormous lens looked in the door at them and she opened fire, instantly coating it - and then she was climbing over the barrier, to the roof of the van, to get a better shot, and to better protect the people inside.

[ QUOTE ]

"Just like old times." Harris said to him again and then started to sprint to the van. Jim followed behind still muttering to himself about how crazy he must be.

"Keys!" Harris shouted back to Jim with his hands stretched out to catch them as he approached the van.

"You must be crazy if you think I'm letting you drive!" Jim shouted back.

Harris was not going to argue. When they both reached the van Harris grabbed the camera from Jim and jumped in the back. He kept the camera on his shoulder so he could carry on the filming and waited for Penny. Jim jumped in the drivers seat and started the engine.

[/ QUOTE ]

Penny ran through the Crey operatives with relative ease. Their tactical support had been withdrawn with the mysterious van, and now they were scattered, disorganized, and easily parted.

The robot was another matter entirely. By now it had broken its pincers out of the ice, but Girl Genius was not to be caught twice so easily. First one slammed into the pavement beyond her, and then the other, but she dodged from side to side, avoiding the blows that left craters in her wake. "Go go go go go!" She yelled to the van, and caught the handle of the back doors just as it took off.

The robot was right in their wake, and she fired bolts of ice at it with her free hand. It was trying to swipe the van with its pincers, but every time it tried, she froze the offending limb, forcing it to break the ice.

It was an effective strategy, but highly risky. If she missed...

[ QUOTE ]

"Awww... heck. You know me. I'd much rather run but if your plan is going to work you'll need someone to drive while you try to get its attention. I'm in. I can't speak for Jim though."

Jim looked nervous.

[/ QUOTE ]

"I must be crazy," he said at last, as he hefted the camera. "I must be crazy... I must be crazy." He looked at the robot, which had finally broken off the ice and was stomping towards them. "When I come up for my annual review," he grumbled at Harris, "You better have your butt in Lilienthal's office singing my praises... I'm ready."

Lilienthal was the big boss.

Girl Genuis nodded and ducked out of hiding - and just in time. The first Crey operative charging towards them (and only a few feet away) was encased in ice, the second knocked off his feet by an icy barrage, the third disoriented when he got a snowball in his face. In moments she had cleared a path. "Time to go, gentlemen!" She called back to them.

[ QUOTE ]
On a distant rooftop, Bernie Rhodes was aiming, his cloaking device on... One of the Crey Agents falling before the report of the round echoes off the buildings and masked by the robot's foot stomps.

"I don't want to move any closer to that giant garbage can" thought Bernie, as his being a natural hero makes him very sensitive to being a pancake, "but I need to get closer to provide some cover fire. These buildings just aren't suited to this."

Bernie fires off several more rounds during the confusion, hoping not to get noticed and looking for cover in order to move in closer to the action.

[/ QUOTE ]

It wasn't immediately obvious, but then it became apparant that the white, force-fielded van was gone. Crey had decided to pull out, leaving the robot and a few operatives to cover their escape.

The robot managed to knock an enormous chunk of ice off of the lens that had been covered. It stopped at once and spun its head around, searching for enemies....

[ QUOTE ]


"But Crey..." Jim had started again.

"Trust me. Don't argue with the lady." Harris told him as he got ready to run. "We're ready when you are." He added looking at Penny.

[/ QUOTE ]

"All right. We can do this one of three ways. One: you can run to the van, fire it up, and drive probably north, while I stay here to work with the robot. I can cover you for your getaway but can't accompany you to the barricade, we can't just leave the robot stomping around. Two: I could take the van and drive south, or three: we could all take the van and drive south. "

"But driving south would put us - "

"Right between its feet, yes. I can certainly understand if you don't want to take the risk, or risk your equipment. I will be glad to cover you while you get out. But that van will drive faster than I can fly while I am fighting, and if we can get the robot to follow us - and it should - I think we could get rid of it in the bay. If nothing else, you should get some great footage." She paused. "But then, you might not want to risk the van..." She smiled at them. "You guys come first, though. How do you want to do this?"

[ QUOTE ]

"If we have to run just leave the camera. The footage is not worth our lives." Over a year ago such a statement would have been completely alien coming from Harris. In fact he would have more likely called Jim a coward worm if he showed any idea of running and not getting the perfect shot. However Harris was now talking with experience. It was not worth their lives.

[/ QUOTE ]

"As long as it comes out of your salary, not mine," grinned Jim.

[ QUOTE ]
"Hello. Just like old time Hu? You could have told me you were back in town." There were small traces of his old annoyance in his voice even though he did not mean it. It would always be a part of his character that was there even if it had become much more mellow.

Harris was looking a lot healthier then the last time they had met. He'd dropped the few extra pounds he always carried around with himself and gotten back in shape. He had a few more gray hairs how ever from the stress of going through a law suit with his old TV station for breach of contract when he walked out on air. There was also the stress of looking after Amy since she was still in a wheel chair but that stress was worth it.

"It’s good to see you again. Only next time I wish we meet some where a little safer." He said with a nervous smile.

[/ QUOTE ]

"I just got ba-" But she broke off abruptly. "We ought to talk, but maybe somewhere safer... how good are you guys at driving that van of yours? Say, up that street, and around the corner?"

Jim looked. "The guys from Crey-"

"-won't be a problem." Penny was wearing a completely different suit, and didn't seem to have aged at all, though a little bit of the innocence had left her face. Now she was smirking... she had a plan.

"I don't think we can get the van out," murmered Jim. "At least we are getting good footage."

It seemed several minutes later when the rampaging robot stopped, seeming to be confused, many of its lenses and sensors thickly coated with ice. It stomped around randomly, trying to break ice off of a piece it could not reach, scattering the foot soldiers, who scrambled to get out of its way.

Girl Genius darted on the other side of the wall with them. "That ice won't last long, you guys should get while the getting's go-" She stopped abruptly. "Harris?" She couldn't believe it was him. What was he doing here?

The flare whizzed up near the robot and its heat-seeking sensors tracked it. Girl Genius took advantage of the moment to finish freezing the other pincer solid, freeing herself. She was still thirty feet in the air.

Her power reserves drained, she didn't even have enough juice left to power on her jets, and instead rolled with the fall. The suit prevented her from being killed, but the car she landed on was totalled.

She was already moving when the gigantic metallic tentacle slammed into the pavement, leaving a hole, and another one followed. Girl Genius jumped left, then right, then ran, away from the reporters, drawing the robot in the other direction.

"Erm - great footage so far," Jim still looked scared, but was filming the action, cool as a cucumber. "Any other ideas, boss?"

((tags))