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Post by carduus on Dec 9, 2007 4:10:36 GMT -6
Oh something finally happened. Of course. He knew there would be something. He leaves the whole situation to fall into place with Archer in the benefiting position and then leans over the top of the bunk and rests his eens on the metal tray with the drugs. He starts chuckling to himself and moves down towards it almost like a shadow. He examines all the drugs. He used to work with them all - he knew, what each served.
He whisphers - in that typical whisphery voice of Tucker's: "Pity there's not a truth serum in here (because I doubt they would just display that around out of the interrogation rooms - they can't be that stupid, or can they?). But she may have some on herself." He approaches her slowly. Looking at her - this uncomfortable stare of a man that has nothing to loose anyway. "Do you? Old witches do that. They've got poisoned apples around - but we are more modern than that now. Prove my hypothesis valid, miss. The method goes as follows: Empty your pockets."
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Post by sweetdaddymustang on Dec 9, 2007 10:44:57 GMT -6
Mustang stood in front of his glass window and looked outside at the prision grounds. He looked at his reflection in the glass. "How did I get here?" he frowned, "The second these people...if I can call them that...get back out into the real world, they will just commit the same crimes again. I don't see why I keep trying to reform them." he turned back around and sat down in this arm chair.
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Post by kizuatonamida on Dec 9, 2007 17:04:01 GMT -6
Zolf snorted, shaking his head incredulously. "Rheumatism? You've got to be s****ing me," he said with disbelief, completely ignoring Tucker's presence.
The wench posed no threat, so there would be no point in wasting bullets on her. They're more valuable than ever now, a precious vassel to serve his escape. Still, it would feel mighty fine to stuff a grenade down her gullet, watch her head explode clean off her shoulders. Heh heh... Kimblee's eyes glowed with a familiar sense of insanity as his lips spread wide into a sickening grin. Maybe next time you old hag.
He let his arms hang limpy to his side, barely even trying to keep hold of the gun. Sure and steady footsteps led past Dante, stopping only to look behind. "Comin', Frank? I'll leave without you..."
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Post by androgynos on Dec 9, 2007 18:57:19 GMT -6
Frank kept the gun leveled evenly at Dante, keeping near Kimblee. Right. Maybe next time they'd think twice before underestimating him.
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Post by Scar on Dec 9, 2007 22:30:21 GMT -6
Prisoner 22193 was lead through the halls by his two gaurds, silent as a dead man. As they progressed thriough the various cell levels, he heard talking. It sounded hostile.
His escorts thought so too, because they both drew pistols. As they neared the corner, the gaurd not holding his leash jumped out, pointing his gun at an open door. The other one followed in suit. "Come out NOW!" the first commanded. "We will not hesitate to use force if you do not comply!"
"Hey." the gaurd holding the prisoner whispered. "Get behind the freak." The other gaurd looked at him dumbly. "He's a perfect sheild, besides, its not like we can be blamed if he was killed by a couple of rebellious inmates." The gaurds buddy grinned as they pushed the prisoner infront of them and got behind him, treating him like a sheild, their guns still aimed at the door.
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Post by androgynos on Dec 10, 2007 7:18:28 GMT -6
Well now, isn't this just perfect! Archer thought to himself as the scarred man was shoved forward, blocking their way out of the door. Surely the gods laugh. He had to get out and get out soon. The 'Jones' was becoming unbearable and he was waking up with nightsweats now, his back constantly felt like it was beaten with a sledgehammer. His dirty, shameful secret was his desperate dependecy on opiates. He was used to the startled looks he received from people who first met him due to his vampirishly pale skin. His skin was naturally pale, but having a dependecy made him appear washed out frequently. These people were stingy with the good stuff, regardless of his complaints of pain, and he was too proud to admit to anyone that he might become very sick, very soon. So there was no option: Get out and get to that quack of a doctor who prescribed him all the pain pills he required to keep the wolf at the door. And now this. And Kimblee, although seeming willing enough to escape, seemed strangely apathetic about the whole matter. No matter. The die was cast and the situation was what it was. He'd acted out of desperation, so desperation drove him on.
Archer considered raiding the medicine cart before Tucker took anything that might be useful to him, but he thought better of it. If Kimblee said he'd leave without him, he would. That aside, his desperation gave him enough juice to keep him moving providing he didn't completely lose it or go into convulsions.
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Post by dante on Dec 11, 2007 12:51:04 GMT -6
"Do not expect me to abide your insanity, Mr. Tucker," reproved Dante in a slightly harsher tone than she had been using before, glaring daggers at the prisoner. "What I have in my pockets is none of your business. And I suggest you watch your mouth around me, understood?"
Dark brown hues skittered past the injured guards on the ground and over to the ringleader, Archer, who had a gun pointed at her. She acknowledged that being so obstinant when a gun is aimed at your face wasn't the best choice, but was not going to degrade herself by giving into some psycopath's whims.
Aha! The threatening yells of guards! They had been found out. The old woman smirked victoriously at the inmates. "Just as I predicted - your little charade has come to a quick and abrupt halt, and you shall soon face the consequences. If I were you, I'd give up before my brains were splattered all over the wall."
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Post by androgynos on Dec 11, 2007 13:14:36 GMT -6
He knew time was running out. Keeping the gun pointed at her, he slowly worked his way to the cell door. "Get the scarred man out of the way, NOW, or she dies!" he yelled. Kimblee just stood, gun loosely hanging from his hand, "Kimblee, I could use a hand right about now! Wipe that slack jaw look off your face and make yourself useful, man!"
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Post by dante on Dec 11, 2007 16:38:29 GMT -6
"Holding me hostage? What a pathetic plan! Do you have a brain in that chalk-white head of yours? I can't follow you out the prison gates, you know - they'll capture you when you do finally give me up. You have no chance," she criticized him.
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Post by androgynos on Dec 11, 2007 17:08:31 GMT -6
((chalk-white head XD rotflmao so true, so true))
Archers face was now covered in sweat and his stomach twisted into knots. His gun hand began trembling along with the rest of his insides. He tried again to hold the gun steady, but his knees began to wobble. There was no time for this! Damnit! He suddenly felt very cold and sweaty at the same time. He could feel the muscles in his arms begin to twitch and spasm. Slowly, he dropped to his knees, bent over and threw up all over the scarred mans feet. He felt the muscles in his back clench and he was thrown involuntarily onto the floor. He lay there, spasming as if he possessed of some sort of religious ecstasy.
When he came to, his head was pounding, he was sore all over, feverish and for some reason, people were looking down at him. His eyes fluttered as he came fully to, and sat bolt upright, frantically searching for the gun and nightstick. Gone! He had failed. He slowly scooted backward against the wall, cornered like a rat and waited for the rain of blows to descend.
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Post by silverviper2134 on Dec 11, 2007 17:10:33 GMT -6
"Dumbasses" Martel muttered softly, shaking her head in annoyance.
Suddenly a muscular gaurd stepped over to her, openning the cell door and coming inside. "C'mon. Transfer" was all he said before taking her by the arm and forcing her out of the cell.
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Post by kizuatonamida on Dec 11, 2007 20:18:31 GMT -6
((Poor Archer))
Kimblee shoved Scar aside, placing his gun under the chin of the first guard and shooting the gun off with a satisfying BANG. The way everything seemed to gush out of the top of the guard's head was beautiful. A symphony for the senses, with a smell so intoxicating... he could practically taste the blood in the air, as some splotches of blood spattered onto his face and top. There was still a vibration in the air from the shot fired, sending his flesh ablaze with excitement. Lastly, there was his face, the way it went from fear, realizing his doom, and then the calm as death took him. His eyes... that feeling of hopelessness, desperation... it was breathtaking. Even the small cry the man let loose before the thunder of Zolf's gun. Really, sometimes he wondered if there was something wrong with him.
Grinning madly, he stared at the other guard as his victim dropped to the ground with a thud. Gold eyes leered at the man. "Who's next?"
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Post by androgynos on Dec 12, 2007 7:54:17 GMT -6
Frank jerked and yelped when he heard the gun go off, squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment, realizing he wasn't dead, he looked up and saw Kimblee holding the gun, still smoking, at the guard behind the scarred man. ((with vomit on his shoes now. XD)). The other guard lay dead on the floor next to him, in a pool of his own blood. Kimblee was spattered with blood and unfazed. Still shaky and drenched in cold sweat, he clambered to his feet and made his way next to Kimblee. It looked as though he would have to depend on him; he didn't know when or if another seizure would come. He only hoped he could keep up. As laid back as Kimblee was, when action was called for, he acted with the precision of a well-oiled machine.
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Post by Scar on Dec 12, 2007 17:01:54 GMT -6
The gaurds hadn't expected the prisoner to be so quick about it. He thought that he would follow the usual untrained convicts routine. But no, this one had been quick, and had taken up little room for firing. The two shots that the gaurd had fired both missed, and as his sheild was thrown to the side, his life ended. The second gaurd dropped his gun in total shock, and fell to the ground in a quivering reck.
Prisoner 22193 looked on from the side lines, staring down at the dead man. That man..he had a family, didn't he? He had a wife, possibly even children that he was trying to feed. Even if he wasn't the kindest to the prisoner, it didn't matter.
The large, scarred man stepped up behind Kimblee, and put his hands around the smaller mans neck. "Put the gun down, or I'll break you in half." he warned. His voice was filled with a cold assurance.
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Post by silverviper2134 on Dec 12, 2007 17:11:07 GMT -6
The gaurd dragged Martel roughly to a new cell, the same cell that housed Kimblee and Archer. "Why the hell?!" she screamed angrily as the large man shoved her into the cell. Martel fell to the ground, her face hitting the hard concrete. As she stood up, she wiped the blood that was dribbling onto her lips off.
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Post by dante on Dec 12, 2007 18:14:31 GMT -6
As the rebellious inmate fell to the floor, vomited, and broke into violet spasms, she smiled at his failure. She was right, as always: his little escape was nipped in the butt so quickly, so easily, it was absolutely, laughably pathetic. Though it was a shame to see someone with such a strong backbone fall to pieces, she admitted.
Her dark eyes casually drifted over to Kimblee after her ears registered the gunshot, lips curving into a half-frown. Dante couldn't truly frown at the death of a guard; he was an expendable worm, after all. Incidentally, the only emotions she seemed to show openly were mild disappointment, aggravation, and false happiness.
"Mrs. Dante! Are you alright?" asked one of the guards who entered the room with the new prisoner, staring at the scene in front of him in shock.
"What do you think? My life is in danger, you twit," she snapped back at him, tone controlled and poise retained, motioning at the crazed Kimblee.
"Put the weapon down. We don't want to hurt you," instructed the guard coolly as he slowly reached for his own firearm.
Dante, seeing that the scarred inmate had the psychopath in his strong grasp, raised her bony hand to signal for the guard to stop, which he did. "Thank-you very much. Your assistance won't go unrewarded, I assure you that," she told the scarred man in an amiable tone.
But if you knew anything about Dante, you'd know that she wasn't really grateful - her cold mind had gone to work on how the powerful inmate could be useful.
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Post by kizuatonamida on Dec 12, 2007 20:41:08 GMT -6
Kimblee frowned. "Don't listen to that ol' witch. She's lying," he gasped, the hand around his throat very constricting. "You want out, I've got a way. You'll be on your merry way, doing whatever the hell it is you do."
The ex-military man coughed a little, a thin line of blood trickling from the courner of his mouth. "Think about it - it's either freedom, or death. The more of us there are, the greater a chance we have." The handle of the gun was hanging on his finger weakly... it wouldn't be long before it simply fell from his grasp. "You wouldn't rather die fighting, knowing you gave it all you had. Or are you a coward?" Kimblee coughed again, getting worse as a couple drops flew from his mouth. "You can hide away here if you want. But, you'll die eventually."
Zolf growled spitefully. "There's nothing here. What use are you?" With that, he began to throw a coughing fit, each more powerful than the last. His blood mixed with that of the fallen guard's.
The gun clattered to the floor.
((Not sure how tightly Scar is holding onto Kimblee, but I would think he'd have to use a bit of force to get anywhere's with him... >.> Otherwise, Kimblee wouldn't feel the least bit threatened.))
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Post by Scar on Dec 12, 2007 21:52:26 GMT -6
Scar shook his head. "You're wrong." he replied to the prisoner in his grasp. "I have no intentions of escaping. That man you killed, he had family. He probably had a wife and children that will never see him again. People like you and me, we -belong- here. We deserve to be locked away in cages like animals. That man was only doing his job, and did not deserve the death you gave him."
As the gun was dropped, he kicked it away, and dropped the man to the floor. He then looked to the gaurds. "I would like to either continue my walk or return to my cell now, if that would be allright, good sirs."
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Post by androgynos on Dec 13, 2007 1:02:19 GMT -6
Archer diverted his attention from the unfolding events to the new inmate that had just been tossed in. There was something familiar about her. Suddenly, his eyes widened, realizing that this woman was the one he's seen when he and Kimblee had invaded the Devil's Nest. At a later date, she'd tried to kill him by stowing away in Al Elrics armor and ambushing him.
This just gets better by the moment, he thought dryly. He didn't dare ask how it could get any worse because he knew the moment he did, it would, in fact, get worse. Better to leave bad enough alone, he thought. He stooped down next to Kimblee, who was coughing hoarsely and spitting up blood. He hit him on the back a few times to help him clear his throat. Well, it looked like this was it. He glanced up and noticed something barely showing from under his cot. Maybe they couldn't get away now, but surely another time. He waited for Kimblee to catch his breath again, swearing he'd kill the scarred man as soon as he got the chance.
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Post by carduus on Dec 14, 2007 14:50:46 GMT -6
Tucker, moving to the side before the change of events, grabbed two of the injections with the sedatives off the metal tray and calmly crossed over to Scar. He really didn't care about the presence of the guards. There were far too many people in the cell by now - confusion and mess.
Standing behind the scarred man, he struck both needles into the lower part of his back from both sides of the spine, "Many had wives and children at some point,"and squeezed them empty. "Sweet comatose."
He straightens up and cackles, the syringes falling to the ground and the glass of them cracking. "If somebody wants to shoot, go on. You'll be making me a favour - finally rejoining the family."
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