NationStates Jolt Archive

The truck pulled up to Saint Mary's asylum, and unloaded the crazys. Doctor Whitehill checked them " Alright, take them to the room sorter, and we will put them accordingly." he wrote somethings down " Alright, go" The security personaly pushed them into the building, which was all white. The place was filled with people, people from nations unbound, over 3,000 inmates. The crazy's were put in a gym and put into lines.

George Anderson was escorted by 3 Greal police officers.

OOC: Sorry about the short post, didn't know what to say.

Kash enterd followed by 3 Zealots he was put in the safe line and George, Kash's eyes were wild as they searched the place " Hey, umm, you are?"

Natasha stepped off. She had only a Bible and a coloring book. Her mind was so scrambled right now she wasn't sure which way was up. All she knew was her sadistic teachers did this to her. They drove her into insanity by playing off of her fears, telling lies and convincing her parents she need mental help. She wanted to tell the truth but how could she?

Kash enterd followed by 3 Zealots he was put in the safe line and George, Kash's eyes were wild as they searched the place " Hey, umm, you are?"

"George Anderson."said george, he vowed to kill the man that prosecuted he when he got out of this "prison"."What are you in for?"asked George

Kash frowned " I....dont...know.." he looked down, A guard took Natasha by the arm and threw her in line with George and Kash.

Natasha looked at the two strangers before her. "I'm Natasha."

Kash frowned " I....dont...know.." he looked down, A guard took Natasha by the arm and threw her in line with George and Kash.

So, this man may be crazy after all, oh well, I'm innocent.thought George, then he saw another prisoner put in the line.

He turned " Hello" he made a slight wave with his hand, as the line crept forwards as people were put in physco dorms.

Natasha looked at the two strangers before her. "I'm Natasha."

"Just call me George."said George

He turned " Hello" he made a slight wave with his hand, as the line crept forwards as people were put in physco dorms.

George saw a sign that said "Physco dorms" He chuckled to himself about that, he needed to get out of here, or at least convince someone that his twin actually robbed the bank.......

A nurse took the three towards there dorm " You honeys will be nice and safe here." she smiled.

"Hello, George."

A nurse took the three towards there dorm " You honeys will be nice and safe here." she smiled.

George thought it was a bad idea to tell the nurse he was innocent , she might just fetch pills for him instead of calling someone.

"Hello, George."

"You know what you in for?"asked George.

The nurse opend a door and there they were in a white apartment, of course all the walls were soft, to help prevent suicide. Two gaurds prodded them inside"


" 1 table, 2 rooms, 1 bathroom, 1 chair, 1 small T.V 1 couch"

"I was put in this way....The darkness don't let it get me! Sorry...My teachers...lies...rumors....fear....." She was a very strange case. Her mind seemed to be playing tug-a-war between sanity and insanity. Well no doubt she need some treatment, but she didn't need to be institutionalized and fed drugs through a straw.

Kash went inside and turned around " Really, I dont think this is neccesarry." The gaurd drew out a dart gun " Please step inside" He turned and went back inside.

"I was put in this way....The darkness don't let it get me! Sorry...My teachers...lies...rumors....fear....." She was a very strange case. Her mind seemed to be playing tug-a-war between sanity and insanity. Well no doubt she need some treatment, but she didn't need to be institutionalized and fed drugs through a straw.

George had thought about falling in love once, but this was not exactly a romantic scene, the walls were soft when he felt them, what a weird dorm.

Kash layed down on the couch almost in a ball " I shouldnt be here" his eyes were starting to tear.

"Do any of us belong here?"

An opending in the door slid open and a silver tray with four pills and a glass of water appeared. Kash sighed " I'm not taking that shit."

Natasha picked it up and broke it in half spilling the white substance on the floor. "Placebos. 5 minutes here and already they stuffing us with sugar."

Kash drank the water " The water tastes fine." he eyed the coloring book and reached out to grab it.

Bianca resisted and kicked and screamed. "It's all true, I swear to it."

"Sure."

"It is. He told me, he told me everything. The storm, the strength, the amount of people that would die!"

They threw her into the room.

"That's mine. It's an old coloring book. The only thing I think could have saved me."

Kash handed it back " Those pictures are...interesting."

He saw Binaca enter screaming " That's what we all say."

"Oh please don't mock me. Really I'm telling the truth!"

"I colored them all. They're cute aren't they?" She neeled to Bianca. "I belive you're sain. We all are. We've all been misdiagnosed."

Kash smiled " I swear by Kash that hes telling the truth" he laughed " Welcome"

"I'm sorry. I'm just scared and upset. All wrongfully admited huh? Well we all got the short end of the stick. I'm Bianca."

"Hi Binaca, welcome to our little luny house" he smiled.

She smiled and wipped the tears from her eyes.

Kash hugged her " Well ,you got freinds now."

An armored truck pulled up to the asylum. It was black, and marked, "GWO Department of Corrections". Two Federal Guardsmen, clad in LAw Enforcement Armor, along with two Army Infantrymen, jumped out of the truck. They each had magnetic poles in their hands. They opened the back of the truck and stuck their magnetic poles inside the truck. The poles attached themselves to the magnetic pieces inside of the straight jacket of Michael Hatfield. They pulled him out of the truck and held him above their heads. He didn't squirm, scream, or resist in any way. He had a black plastic mask with black lens on, which was to prevent biting and make it so that if he gave you the "Death Stare", you wouldn't be at all intimidated. The GWO soldiers began bringing him into the Registration Office, keeping him off of the ground.

A nurse walked up " Oh, he looks like a bad boy, no worry, we will make him feel right at home, this way please." she said as she began to walk.

The guards all took off their gas masks and hung them on a hat rack, and then put their helmets back on. They followed the nurse, now carrying him on a utility "dolly". He looked straight forward, not moving at all. The mask of his was essentially his face. He had no real identity to those who saw him, he just looked like a slab of plastic and tinted glass.


((OOC: Gotta go for the night))

They tossed him into a concrete room with a steel door and closed it " We will hold him here for now, until we can find him a room, thank you boys."

The truck came to a screeching stop; sometimes it seemed the driver really belonged in the back. But then again, he was too well connected for such a thing to happen in Errikan Africa.

Real policy power was always distributed to the provincial and local level in the Empire, but, in the case of normal Imperial provinces, there were still extensive restrictions on their power. This was not true in the colonies, which had looser such restrictions in light of different financial requirements to the national government. Of course, in most of the colonies this didn’t matter much, as most of the population were Errikans who would vote in governments similar to those in the fatherland.

However, this was not the case in Errikan Africa. The Errikan territory in Africa, being largely tropical, was not particularly attractive for settlement by the temperately adapted Errikans. Though there were extraordinarily large numbers of native Africans remaining, additional labor was brought in from Rachkldom; neither the Africans nor the Rachkldites had particularly democratic cultural backgrounds. The small Errikan elite, most of whom were not the typical, good Christian Errikan settlers, took advantage of the light restrictions to create one of the most corrupt and oppressive regimes in the Errikan Empire.

And, while the connected truck driver was secure in his connections, the young woman the white clothed men were now pulling out of the back of the vehicle was not.

“Excuse me,” the head guard said as they approached the gate of the facility, “Here for drop off. We are going to have to take the straight jacket with us, though.”

Jamie, for that was the young woman’s name, looked back at the golden lettering on the side of the truck groggily. The sedatives they had given her, which, quite frankly, had not only been unnecessary at all but in far too large a dosage, were swiftly wearing off.

"I am completely sane, they believe that I did robbed the bank, but my twin brother did. But the puzzling thing is that hes been dead for years."said george to kash and the others.

Eric Alericson had his hands bound by handcuffs and was being escorted by two Deatharoni Peace Keepers. The Peace Keepers were armed with stun batons and kept shocking Eric every time he made a sharp fast movement.

They transported him out of the truck and dragged him towards the mental home. Eric was crying and screaming, “for the love of Minax! I am not paranoid you stupid idiots!” The Peace Keepers merely hit Eric repeatedly with their batons until he stopped struggling and accepted his fate.

Eric was still sobbing as the Peace Keepers meet up with the Nurse. They quickly said, “We have Eric Alericson a mental patient transferred here from Death Hold Sanitarium.”


Eric kept sobbing and saying, “I am not paranoid please let me go….”

(OOC: Deatharoni Peace Keepers are the Imperial Hegemony's police force..)

They tossed him into a concrete room with a steel door and closed it " We will hold him here for now, until we can find him a room, thank you boys."

"Welcome. We'll also be stationed near the facility in case he should try to escape. He's the next Houdini, I swear," said the Federal Guard Sergeant leading the team.

Michael stood himself up, looking blankly around the equally blank room. He tilted his head and popped his neck, and then sat down on the bed chained to the wall. His head was purely bald, as he was in fact a Neo-Nazi Skinhead. His skin was extremely pale, bordering on Albino. He sat with a trance-like look on his face, contemplating over the hordes of people he had killed. His favorite kills were always on government workers, with the Clone Facility Breakout taking tops. He replayed himself stabbing the GWO Military Scientist over and over again. He then turned his head towards the small camera in the corner of the room and just stared at it for hours.

George was making a plan to escape from this Psycho building, but he was certain other people here were innocent.

Eric looked around as his Peace Keeper escorts continued to hold him in place waiting for the staff to take Eric to whatever room they wished. The peace Keepers waited patiently for the nurse to reply and one of them kept talking to Eric in a degrading manner.


"It's okay little psycho, You will be nice in safe in this safe mental facility."

Eric merely sighed in a defeat and cringed in fear as the guard flexed his fingers towards his stun baton...

Bryce unloaded his backpack in the resident's quarters, preparing himself for another 12 hours of duty. He had just came from working out in the gym. In this job you don't need only brains, but also brawns to pin down those crazies when they are throwing fits.

He went over to the nurse's desk and looked at the roster of new patients.

"Room 4 Bed 1, Wilson, Kash, schizophrenia... Room 3 Bed 1, Anderson, Natasha, nervous breakdown... Room 3 Bed 2, Newison, Bianca, post-traumatic stress disorder... Room 2 Bed 2, Alericson, Edward, paranoia... Room 3 Bed 3, Carlson, Jamie, paranoia... Isolation Room, Hatfield, Michael, insanity... insanity, paranoia... they still make those diagnoses? Where the heck did they come from?"

The nurse shrugged. "They're just coming."

"Room 4 Bed 2, Anderson, George... no diagnosis? Who admitted this guy?"

"Beats me."

Bryce rolled his eyes. The nurse was not that helpful. "You know if this George Anderson in related to the Natasha Anderson?"

The nurse looked at him blankly.

"Damn, you are one good nurse," Bryce said sarcastically as he irritatedly plopped down the folder. "Get out of that station if won't do your job, okay?" He then pulled out the record for Room 4 Bed 2. He had to work up all of them, and this diagnosis-less case had to be first...

Carrying the folder, he marched down the hall to Room 4 Bed 2. He asked the occupant of the bed, "Are you George Anderson?"

Bryce unloaded his backpack in the resident's quarters, preparing himself for another 12 hours of duty. He had just came from working out in the gym. In this job you don't need only brains, but also brawns to pin down those crazies when they are throwing fits.

He went over to the nurse's desk and looked at the roster of new patients.

"Room 4 Bed 1, Wilson, Kash, schizophrenia... Room 3 Bed 1, Anderson, Natasha, nervous breakdown... Room 3 Bed 2, Newison, Bianca, post-traumatic stress disorder... Room 2 Bed 2, Alericson, Edward, paranoia... Room 3 Bed 3, Carlson, Jamie, paranoia... Isolation Room, Hatfield, Michael, insanity... insanity, paranoia... they still make those diagnoses? Where the heck did they come from?"

The nurse shrugged. "They're just coming."

"Room 4 Bed 2, Anderson, George... no diagnosis? Who admitted this guy?"

"Beats me."

Bryce rolled his eyes. The nurse was not that helpful. "You know if this George Anderson in related to the Natasha Anderson?"

The nurse looked at him blankly.

"Damn, you are one good nurse," Bryce said sarcastically as he irritatedly plopped down the folder. "Get out of that station if won't do your job, okay?" He then pulled out the record for Room 4 Bed 2. He had to work up all of them, and this diagnosis-less case had to be first...

Carrying the folder, he marched down the hall to Room 4 Bed 2. He asked the occupant of the bed, "Are you George Anderson?"

George was siting on the bed thinking about good memories of his life, then suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a man coming in and asking if he was George Anderson.

"Yes, I'm George Anderson. And you are?"

George was siting on the bed thinking about good memories of his life, then suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a man coming in and asking if he was George Anderson.

"Yes, I'm George Anderson. And you are?"
"Dr. Bryce Colbourne. I'm a resident in psychiatry here." Bryce does not wear a white coat, it might attract patients who want to get back at staff in the hospital. For that shift, dressed casually, wearing a red hoodie and jeans. The only indication of his profession was the stethoscope hanging around his neck.

"I would just like to talk to you for a while. Do you have any companions with you now?"

Michael was sitting on his wall-chained bed. He never slept, at least, not after he was taken from his home in a small rural town-turned-metropolis. At his old house, he had the comfort of an underground Panic Room/Nuclear Fallout Shelter. Of course, he went off and killed everyone within several miles of his home, including Law Enforcement and Army Infantrymen, so he was moved away. Ever since then, he's only went to sleep when the government pumps knockout gas into whatever he happens to be in (As you know, syringes are a bad idea, and he pukes if you forcefeed pills to him). He had etched a swastika into the forehead of his mask during those sleepless hours, further personalizing it.

Well this is certainly something, Jamie thought as she stared about her cell. As her sedatives had worn off, she started to observe her surroundings. Drab, dull. Gray.

She could move her arms again. They had removed her straight jacket. Leave it to those shiesty bastards to repossess the only thing keeping the dangerously crazy lady under control.

And, as she examined the room, she saw that they had even forgotten to lock her door, or even close it. The sounds of voices echoed up from elsewhere in the facility.

The cold draft wafting from somewhere served to wake her up more quickly, exciting her to thoughts of action, though indecision still hung over her.

Hola Northern Calaveras. My nation was wiped off the map "mesotarian" and the United States of Divided America was born. Good to see that your nation was rebuilt after it got wiped out by nuclear weapons. I think it was you who was nuked. Its been a while.

As she glanced around the corner, pressing her back against the wall so as to be as invisible as possible, Jamie’s thoughts swirled in her head. Why did I do this? Why could I not leave well enough alone and just stay in the goddamned cell? Just not make matters worse?

And why the hell was the place so freezing? As she pressed against the wall, she felt her shivering all the more heavily. Perhaps it was the standard gown that she still wore, that those cheap fascists were so kind as to purchase for their patients. All they expected in return was that they all wear them all them time, especially in all sorts of ridiculous environments. You would get the shivers in the fucking Sahara in one of these. And forget about modesty. Perhaps that was intentional, engineered, the discomfort, the indignity; perhaps that was part of their system, to oppress and dehumanize the “mentally unstable” innocent yet inconvenient or unpopular “tenants.” Of course, she was exaggerating the matter to herself; most of those people had in fact been insane in some way or another, and she, the truly inconvenient one, was ultimately shipped out of the Empire altogether, away from the fatherland to some random facility. Some random facility that didn’t know where to buy a goddamn heater.

With a last whispered prayer, she darted across the hall, reaching the other side without being seen. At least that she could tell. But what am I doing? She had no real plan, no where she was going. Was she following the voices, echoing down the hall?

Following the voices, she actually chuckled to herself, for the first time in some time, maybe I really do belong in here. Be serious. I am not a loony, not a fool. What am I doing? Another shiver gave her an idea. She had real clothing and personal effects, which had been packed up and stored away by the inbreeding mohammadites that had held her before, and she knew they had checked them in with the facility when they checked her in. Perhaps she could find where they kept them, and retake possession of some pieces of her life before. Not to mention ditch the godforsaken gown.

Heavy boot steps fell and echoed through the hallway. Two stone faced men wearing uniforms flanked a young woman. What is the reason for such precautions? They guarded this girl with ever omnipresent gazes, their tazer guns in thigh holsters, ready for her to make a move. The girl simply trotted down the hallway, a smirk on her face.

"Wolfy, where are we going?" Kira asked, not turning back. Dr.Wolfgang Strauss was a prominent phsychiatrist from New Archangel Mental Health Facility in Kulikovia. Kira Donskoy was under his personal care and supervision for the past six years. He was the closest thing she had to anything resembling a father figure. Even though she stabbed him with a pen their first meeting. He had salt and pepper hair, a beard and gentle features. A caring man who sought to help others, even Kira.

"I already told you, Kira. You're going to be staying here from now on." Strauss replied.

"Why am I coming here. I want to go back and have more fun"

"You know damn well why. The last time you had your fun, it cost the facility over $10,000 in damages. That was the final straw." Strauss became frustrated but learned over the years not to let this girl get to him.

Kira began to laugh slightly, "Yeah, but it was fun, Wolfy...fire is very cleansing" her tone became more serious.

A truck, military grade for the transport of hazardious materials, pulled up outside the mental hospital. Two grim men in green uniforms with tazers in their side holsters got out of the front and unlocked the back. They pulled the door open and hauled out a already struggling man. His arms and feet were bound with chain, and there was a gag over his mouth. The men were human, but what they pulled out of the back was kitsune. Fox ears, fox tail, yellow eyes, sharp pointy teeth, fast reflexes. This one was terriffied. His eyes were wide and he moved his body the best he could to impede his captors efforts. They threw him to the ground, pulled out a dolly, then lifted him none-too-gently on and wheeled it in. The man bit though his crude cloth gag, spitting at the horrible taste. "I'm not crazy, somebody help! I'm not insane, you've got the wrong man, don't put me in there!" One of the guards glared at him. "Shut up!" he said gruffly, and kicked the kitsune in the face. The other guard turned to the desk. "We've got a delivery. Grade a insane." he smirked.

"Dr. Bryce Colbourne. I'm a resident in psychiatry here." Bryce does not wear a white coat, it might attract patients who want to get back at staff in the hospital. For that shift, dressed casually, wearing a red hoodie and jeans. The only indication of his profession was the stethoscope hanging around his neck.

"I would just like to talk to you for a while. Do you have any companions with you now?"

"I don't think so."said George looking around, he was slightly worried about the "doctor".

The Deatharoni Peace Keepers quickly disposed of Eric to his quarters and left the frightened Deatharoni man in his room.

Eric looked around at his bleak room and decided to make a stand and leave as quickly as possible. The door was unlocked and so Eric quickly gripped the door handle and pulled down the handle and pushed.

Eric walked out of his room and started to look for a change of clothes as he watched the Deatharoni Peace Keepers turn the cornor towards the exit of the facility. Eric kept to the side and tried to seem like he was not a threat as he wandered around looking like he was mentally handicapped as he secretly looked for a change of clothes to replace the stupid gown that seemed to expose his backside to the cold air…


Eric noticed some of the staff wandering about and decided to avoid them and the other patients until he could escape…

The kitsune's tourtured screams could be heard thoughout the hospital. "Fuck! Somebody help! I'm not crazy, shit get away from me with that thing, ahhhh!" There was a bang, the shound of three thuds, more screams, some grunts and muffled curses, and the sound of metal being banged on metal. The kitsune took off down the hall, having beaten one guard down and retrieved his combat knife. He picked the lock on his chains, put down several men who had tried to stop him, and ran for it.

Eric quickly ducked out of the way as he noticed a fox like creature running down the other side of the hall and the screaming and cursing of two guards following him. This sight made Eric whimper in fear that he would be caught and so the Deatharoni man hid in an adjacent room that was nice and dark.

It was a janitor’s closet and it was dark. Perfect thought Eric as he got a mop and bucket and the hat and walked out of the closet and headed towards the eastern office where Eric remembered seeing a doctor’s jacket on the way towards his room.

Eric was able to sneak past several staff members as he constantly went from room to room pretending to clean the floors as he went. It probably did not even seem odd that a patient was cleaning the rooms and no one seem to comment about it.

The ploy seemed to be working as Eric made his way to the east office taking a second to make sure no one was watching. He walked towards the coat rack and quickly went to grab his prize but little did he know that someone was watching him the whole time…

Eric quickly ducked out of the way as he noticed a fox like creature running down the other side of the hall and the screaming and cursing of two guards following him. This sight made Eric whimper in fear that he would be caught and so the Deatharoni man hid in an adjacent room that was nice and dark.

It was a janitor’s closet and it was dark. Perfect thought Eric as he got a mop and bucket and the hat and walked out of the closet and headed towards the eastern office where Eric remembered seeing a doctor’s jacket on the way towards his room.

Eric was able to sneak past several staff members as he constantly went from room to room pretending to clean the floors as he went. It probably did not even seem odd that a patient was cleaning the rooms and no one seem to comment about it.

The ploy seemed to be working as Eric made his way to the east office taking a second to make sure no one was watching. He walked towards the coat rack and quickly went to grab his prize but little did he know that someone was watching him the whole time…

What the hell?

She had, after darting once more at the sound of approaching footsteps, noticed the sneaking Deatharoni. Something about the young man seemed quite shifty; then again, she hadn’t seen many of the patients here, and none whatsoever if you didn’t count the time when she was drugged. Still, his demeanor seemed odd. Like he was searching for something. Stop it. I need to focus on finding where they left my things. But then, she had no way of knowing where that was.

Letting her curiosity get the better of her, she followed the curious young Deatharoni.

That turned out to be quite an adventure.

“What are you doing?” she said to him after he finally took notice of her. If he were really an absolute nutcase, this query would be useless, and she knew it. But something told her that he wasn’t quite the type; his mannerisms in sneaking were certainly deliberate, and he was looking to steal a doctor’s jacket, probably to escape. Jamie was in no way an expert in these matters, but that seemed above and beyond the capabilities of your average nutcase.

OOC: Sorry for the delay, inexplicable internet failure.

What the hell?

She had, after darting once more at the sound of approaching footsteps, noticed the sneaking Deatharoni. Something about the young man seemed quite shifty; then again, she hadn’t seen many of the patients here, and none whatsoever if you didn’t count the time when she was drugged. Still, his demeanor seemed odd. Like he was searching for something. Stop it. I need to focus on finding where they left my things. But then, she had no way of knowing where that was.

Letting her curiosity get the better of her, she followed the curious young Deatharoni.

That turned out to be quite an adventure.

“What are you doing?” she said to him after he finally took notice of her. If he were really an absolute nutcase, this query would be useless, and she knew it. But something told her that he wasn’t quite the type; his mannerisms in sneaking were certainly deliberate, and he was looking to steal a doctor’s jacket, probably to escape. Jamie was in no way an expert in these matters, but that seemed above and beyond the capabilities of your average nutcase.

OOC: Sorry for the delay, inexplicable internet failure.





Eric noticed Jamie speaking to him and sighed realizing he had been caught and prepared for a rush of guards with stun batons and sedatives to take him down to the floor. He then took a longer look and noticed the gown and the state of her character and realized she was a patient like him.

This new bit of information merely made Eric smile, and he replied, “I am planning to make a break for it. I mean, if I have to stay in an insane asylum for one more day. I am really going to become paranoid.”


Eric quickly puts the coat around his body and begins to drop the bucket on the floor but keeps the mop in hand. Eric silently hopes his compulsory military training would pull him through in a hand to hand fight with the local staff. It did not help much agaisnt trained Deatharoni Peace Keepers but maybe here it could work...

Eric then adds, “You want to come along? I need to find more clothes to change into when I make my escape. I figure they will be looking for a missing doctor’s uniform once the doctor realizes it’s not in it’s proper location…”


OOC: It's fine, I have had that problem before...

Eric noticed Jamie speaking to him and sighed realizing he had been caught and prepared for a rush of guards with stun batons and sedatives to take him down to the floor. He then took a longer look and noticed the gown and the state of her character and realized she was a patient like him.

This new bit of information merely made Eric smile, and he replied, “I am planning to make a break for it. I mean, if I have to stay in an insane asylum for one more day. I am really going to become paranoid.”


Eric quickly puts the coat around his body and begins to drop the bucket on the floor but keeps the mop in hand. Eric silently hopes his compulsory military training would pull him through in a hand to hand fight with the local staff. It did not help much agaisnt trained Deatharoni Peace Keepers but maybe here it could work...

Eric then adds, “You want to come along? I need to find more clothes to change into when I make my escape. I figure they will be looking for a missing doctor’s uniform once the doctor realizes it’s not in it’s proper location…”


OOC: It's fine, I have had that problem before...

The young man’s offer surprised her. An escape? The thought had not occurred to her. Perhaps she had been resigned to her fate; escape from it is an option she had not considered. The very revelation lifted her spirits, bringing in a flood of new hope she had not had for some time. She quickly suppressed the glow that had lit her up and returned to rationality, clearing her throat.

“What do you have planned?” she asked after a moment, keeping her voice cool and stoic as she studied him. Though she was eager to leave her current life, she would never jump into an ill-conceived plan without a second thought. Her previous suspicions about his relative sanity had been confirmed, at least in her eyes, as he had articulately handled her initial question. Perhaps she was not alone, being a sane person trapped in a mental institution. Perhaps there were others that she could actually associate with.

Eric looked around carefully to make sure no one was listening and after a second replied, “The plan is simple enough. These people are going to underestimate me because they think I am mentally inferior to them and that is just the element of surprise, I need to escape from this place. I figure, if we can get the doctor’s uniforms and badges we can leave out the front door and hijack one of the vehicles outside. I am currently looking for car keys inside the coats and things I have found to hopefully find an escape vehicle head down the road to the nearest town.

I then plan to ditch the car and get another pair clothes even if I have to mug some kid on the street and then high tail it to a nearby bus station or hijack another vehicle and hopefully disappear . I would then try to find a way to fly back to the Hegemony and hide in the farmland area for the rest of my life. I have spent awhile planning this but seem to have problems with finding a safe place to stay in the long run…”

Eric continues to look around nervously making sure the staff has not noticed his change in clothing...

Eric looked around carefully to make sure no one was listening and after a second replied, “The plan is simple enough. These people are going to underestimate me because they think I am mentally inferior to them and that is just the element of surprise, I need to escape from this place. I figure, if we can get the doctor’s uniforms and badges we can leave out the front door and hijack one of the vehicles outside. I am currently looking for car keys inside the coats and things I have found to hopefully find an escape vehicle head down the road to the nearest town.

I then plan to ditch the car and get another pair clothes even if I have to mug some kid on the street and then high tail it to a nearby bus station or hijack another vehicle and hopefully disappear . I would then try to find a way to fly back to the Hegemony and hide in the farmland area for the rest of my life. I have spent awhile planning this but seem to have problems with finding a safe place to stay in the long run…”

Eric continues to look around nervously making sure the staff has not noticed his change in clothing...

She considered the plan for a moment. It was . . . she knew she had no time to think. It was well thought out enough. And she didn’t really have a lot of options right now.

“I’m in,” she said, “But could we try and get my things? They are some clothing and a couple of personal items, which would allow me to change without stealing anything, save us some time.” She looked back around watching the halls. When no one was there, she turned to whisper to him.

“Look, there is no one around; if we spend a couple minutes finding them now, we can still sneak out before anyone notices us and get certain advantage in our escape,” after another moment’s thought, she decided to fully trust him, “There is a good deal of money sewn into the clothing, stolen from my uncle. I think that might be helpful.”

"I don't think so."said George looking around, he was slightly worried about the "doctor".

"Well, then, let's start. What is your name?"

Bryce happened to glance at the glass window momentarily and saw a man in a doctor's coat carrying a bucket and a mop. That was weird, the thought, but then, this is a madhouse... a madhouse!

"Wait a sec, Mr. Anderson, I need to just do something for a while. I'll return."

Bryce left the room and locked the door. He paced down the corridor, looking for the man in a doctor's coat carrying a bucket and a mop.

He found him talking to another patient. Oh, great, two escaped patients. He wondered what the heck were the nurses and the staff doing.

He took of his stethoscope from his neck, the only sign of him being a doctor, and placed it on the floor. Now, from his looks, they wouldn't know he is a doctor...

"Hi..." he greeted them, and then asked them innocently, "What are your names?"

Eric was about to announce his agreement to help Jamie get her things when all of a sudden a strange man asked them for their names. Eric noticed the man but was immediately suspicious of him. He did not have a gown on and seemed to have decent clothing on.


He was obviously not a patient and that made Eric feel a faint glimpse of fear. Eric merely nodded at Bryce and replied, “Whom might you be sir?”

Eric tightened his grip on the mop and prepared to fight his way out of here if need be….

He was obviously not a patient and that made Eric feel a faint glimpse of fear. Eric merely nodded at Bryce and replied, “Whom might you be sir?”

Eric tightened his grip on the mop and prepared to fight his way out of here if need be….
"I asked you first," he said a bit childishly. "And doc, my room needs some cleanin'." He was trying to make himself look like a patient, which was hard. He had to be damn well good in it or risk having that mop in his face...

Jamie turned to the newcomer, her own greeting cut off by the Deatharoni's less than warm question. Her immediate reaction—turning and crossing her arms close to herself once more, maintaining her modesty to a certain extent—reminded her that she at least upheld part of her old self. She wondered, most unpleasantly, how long that would have lasted in this sort of treatment.

Back to the here and the now. This new fellow seemed friendly enough, though, like the Deatharoni, he struck her as . . . not particularly insane. Perhaps she just wasn’t good at judging these sorts of things. Then again, the lack of a robe was something less than tied to her own judgment.

She saw the Deatharoni discreetly tighten his grip on his makeshift weapon, and felt that perhaps there was something to be concerned about.

"I asked you first," he said a bit childishly. "And doc, my room needs some cleanin'." He was trying to make himself look like a patient, which was hard. He had to be damn well good in it or risk having that mop in his face...

After another couple moments, she felt it would be better to break the silence.

"My name's Jamie," she said, extending her hand to the newcomer; it was a formality, a male formality, for all such greetings, for all such introductions, in civilized Errikan society. She saw once again that she had not fallen far. Yet.

"My name's Jamie," she said, extending her hand to the newcomer; it was a formality, a male formality, for all such greetings, for all such introductions, in civilized Errikan society. She saw once again that she had not fallen far. Yet.
"I'm Christian," he said, taking her warm hand with a smile. Nobody there knew him by his first name. He uses his middle name. For a moment he thought that the name Christian was appropriate for an insane person...

"Well, then, let's start. What is your name?"

Bryce happened to glance at the glass window momentarily and saw a man in a doctor's coat carrying a bucket and a mop. That was weird, the thought, but then, this is a madhouse... a madhouse!

"Wait a sec, Mr. Anderson, I need to just do something for a while. I'll return."

Bryce left the room and locked the door. He paced down the corridor, looking for the man in a doctor's coat carrying a bucket and a mop.

He found him talking to another patient. Oh, great, two escaped patients. He wondered what the heck were the nurses and the staff doing.

He took of his stethoscope from his neck, the only sign of him being a doctor, and placed it on the floor. Now, from his looks, they wouldn't know he is a doctor...

"Hi..." he greeted them, and then asked them innocently, "What are your names?"

George Anderson was now slightly annoyed when he left, this was his one chance to tell him that he wasn't crazy, and lots of people were also not crazy here.

"I'm Christian," he said, taking her warm hand with a smile. Nobody there knew him by his first name. He uses his middle name. For a moment he thought that the name Christian was appropriate for an insane person...

OOC: lol @ the last thought, for reasons that will come up

"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said warmly, shaking his hand, "Christian. That is the name my emperor. Er--that is the name of the Errikan Emperor." She shot a quick, she hoped reassuring, glance to the young Deatharoni, hoping to comfort him into not doing anything rash.

OOC: lol @ the last thought, for reasons that will come up

"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said warmly, shaking his hand, "Christian. That is the name my emperor. Er--that is the name of the Errikan Emperor." She shot a quick, she hoped reassuring, glance to the young Deatharoni, hoping to comfort him into not doing anything rash.
"Emperor? Emperor?" He toyed at the words. "You are the emperor? What is your name?"

"Emperor? Emperor?" He toyed at the words. "You are the emperor? What is your name?"

"No, no," she giggled, attempting to make it seem unforced, "You misunderstand me. I am not an emperor, my fatherland—er—my country, has an emperor, whose name is Christian, like your's." She wasn't quite sure what to make of this fellow. He didn't seem to be a patient, though he seemed to wish to be viewed as one, if he wasn't one. Perhaps he was insane. This is an international place, right?

"So, what country are you from?"

"No, no," she giggled, attempting to make it seem unforced, "You misunderstand me. I am not an emperor, my fatherland—er—my country, has an emperor, whose name is Christian, like your's." She wasn't quite sure what to make of this fellow. He didn't seem to be a patient, though he seemed to wish to be viewed as one, if he wasn't one. Perhaps he was insane. This is an international place, right?

"So, what country are you from?"
"I'm your emperor," he said laughing slightly hysterically. Bryce sometimes had that laugh the seemed to be a cross between a hyena and a pig. "I'm from your country, your emperor. What might be your name, my dear?"

"I'm your emperor," he said laughing slightly hysterically. Bryce sometimes had that laugh the seemed to be a cross between a hyena and a pig. "I'm from your country, your emperor. What might be your name, my dear?"

"Jamie," she almost whispered, a bit taken aback by this outburst; perhaps this fellow really was crazy. Or particularly devoted to being perceived as such. Still, how does one respond to such a person, in such a circumstance?

"My name is Jamie," she continued, "Which I actually said before. Still, you are not my emperor—the emperor of Errikland. You are a man in a mental institution in some place outside the empire." To be honest, the man could be Errikan. He looked mostly Errikan, at least in height, general complexion, and other general features. He was different in the face, though. Perhaps he was part Errikan.

"Where were you before you came here?"

"Jamie," she almost whispered, a bit taken aback by this outburst; perhaps this fellow really was crazy. Or particularly devoted to being perceived as such. Still, how does one respond to such a person, in such a circumstance?

"My name is Jamie," she continued, "Which I actually said before. Still, you are not my emperor—the emperor of Errikland. You are a man in a mental institution in some place outside the empire." To be honest, the man could be Errikan. He looked mostly Errikan, at least in height, general complexion, and other general features. He was different in the face, though. Perhaps he was part Errikan.

"Where were you before you came here?"
Damn, this woman is asking me... stuff. Bryce wasn't particularly ready to be interviewed, much less construct a past or a believable story. "Hi Jamie," he said rather casually. "Jamie? Mental institution? This is a mental institution? They told me this was a playhouse... I awoke here and they told me this is a playhouse... you, how did you come to the playhouse?"

OOC: Eric is a tad militant in his thinking thanks to his complusory military training and his rather cruel treatment in a Deatharoni mental hospital. That experience has made him very eager to escape before the doctors decide to experiment on him again...

IC:

Eric looked at Jamie as she gave him a soft glance to soften him up to this Christian fellow. It sadly did not work for the Deatharoni had spent several months in a Deatharoni mental institute and that place had been a living hell for the mentally handicapped residents.

Eric merely looked at the newcomer with a predatory look like a wolf about to pounce on a startled deer. It was clear that this man lacked a gown and his mannerism despite it being child like and foolish was obviously a ploy. A mental patient like this would have been processed and wearing a gown by now and he definitely would not have on decent clothes and he certainly would not be out in the hall trying to contact a person wearing a doctor’s uniform…


Eric merely took a fighting position stance pointing the mop at Christian and said, “I think we have heard enough from you sir. I recommend you leave now before my ability to restrain myself from using violence begins to lose itself in my eagerness to get the heck out of dodge…”

Eric his wolf like smile and hoped his overtly aggressive manner would either frightened this crazy into running or get this concealed staff person to reveal himself by calling for help….

Up and down...
Up and down...
Right! RIGHT!
Thank gods.
There was the slam of a door and Foxfire heard his two guards run past the dorm he was hiding in. His tail whipped wildly and his ears were flattened down to his skull. He breathed a soft sigh of relief and sat down on a nearby bed. The dorm was empty and deserted, thank the gods. The last thing he needed was a bunch of crazies staring at him. How did I get into this? Admittedly the treatment of the man who tried to mug him had been a bit...cruel, but he had it coming. And it wasn't his fault he didn't like people. They just annoyed him..or scared him. The little stunt that just happened was more than enough to reafirm his believes in the hatred and mistrust of nearly all other people. He was wearing street clothes, fortunatly the guards hadn't managed to stuff him in a gown before he escaped. He looked around the room. A weapon...I need a weapon. He had managed to drop the knife while he was running away. I can't stay here...they'll start checking all the wards. He catiously opened the door a crack and peeked out. No one. Grasping the side of the wall as if he didn't hang on he would blow away, he slipped out into the hall and forced himself to walk calmly.

[SIZE="1"]Eric merely took a fighting position stance pointing the mop at Christian and said, “I think we have heard enough from you sir. I recommend you leave now before my ability to restrain myself from using violence begins to lose itself in my eagerness to get the heck out of dodge…”

Eric his wolf like smile and hoped his overtly aggressive manner would either frightened this crazy into running or get this concealed staff person to reveal himself by calling for help….
Bryce turned around and saw the male patient pointing the mop at him, saying nonsense and threatening him. Damn, not only the patients here are crazy, they're pretty damn angry too...

Bryce laughed hysterically. "I am the emperor," he said. With one blur of a motion, he kicked the bucket to Eric's feet and grabbed the end of the mop nearest him. He then pulled the mop, trying to get it out of Eric's hands......

Damn, this woman is asking me... stuff. Bryce wasn't particularly ready to be interviewed, much less construct a past or a believable story. "Hi Jamie," he said rather casually. "Jamie? Mental institution? This is a mental institution? They told me this was a playhouse... I awoke here and they told me this is a playhouse... you, how did you come to the playhouse?"

OOC: Eric is a tad militant in his thinking thanks to his complusory military training and his rather cruel treatment in a Deatharoni mental hospital. That experience has made him very eager to escape before the doctors decide to experiment on him again...

IC:

Eric looked at Jamie as she gave him a soft glance to soften him up to this Christian fellow. It sadly did not work for the Deatharoni had spent several months in a Deatharoni mental institute and that place had been a living hell for the mentally handicapped residents.

Eric merely looked at the newcomer with a predatory look like a wolf about to pounce on a startled deer. It was clear that this man lacked a gown and his mannerism despite it being child like and foolish was obviously a ploy. A mental patient like this would have been processed and wearing a gown by now and he definitely would not have on decent clothes and he certainly would not be out in the hall trying to contact a person wearing a doctor’s uniform…


Eric merely took a fighting position stance pointing the mop at Christian and said, “I think we have heard enough from you sir. I recommend you leave now before my ability to restrain myself from using violence begins to lose itself in my eagerness to get the heck out of dodge…”

Eric his wolf like smile and hoped his overtly aggressive manner would either frightened this crazy into running or get this concealed staff person to reveal himself by calling for help….

Bryce turned around and saw the male patient pointing the mop at him, saying nonsense and threatening him. Damn, not only the patients here are crazy, they're pretty damn angry too...

Bryce laughed hysterically. "I am the emperor," he said. With one blur of a motion, he kicked the bucket to Eric's feet and grabbed the end of the mop nearest him. He then pulled the mop, trying to get it out of Eric's hands......

As she began to answer the newcomer, quite honestly getting a bit annoyed by him, she was abruptly cut off by the Deatharoni’s veiled ultimatum. Quite taken aback, she turned and eyed him, attempting to suppress any expression as she analyzed his stance and expression. She was getting annoyed with the guy as well, but this was quite extreme; maybe he really was insane. Then again, maybe he saw continuing with this man as an imminent threat to their escape plan; she had thought that being polite and sociable, altogether unmemorable, was the best way to get rid of him quickly without sounding any alarms, figurative or literal. However, if this man was going to such lengths to appear insane, then perhaps there was something more to be concerned about.

The why was not so important at this point; what mattered was how she should go from here. A fight involving a deadly weapon, particularly if this man was in fact a doctor or other employee, would certainly sound alarms and attract immediate, very strong attention. This was exactly the sort of thing they wanted to avoid.

Maybe if he quickly incapacitated the newcomer, they could hurry away and escape before the proper authorities arrived. Still, that was likely unrealistic; an attack on an employee would get them swarmed in a matter of moments. Them? Truly, she could just be an innocent bystander, slip away immediately. Let this violent man take the heat while she was just another patient. No. It was more than just an irrational loyalty to her newfound friend—if one could even say that much. It was . . . he knew about her money. That was it. He knew about her money, and if the plan went sour now she couldn’t count on that staying secret, particularly if she abandoned him; she would have to go forward without him, right now. And she could hardly hope to snatch the doctor’s jacket off his back at a moment’s notice.

Still, the newcomer’s pretending to be a patient would be helpful; if something happened, and they were caught, they could easily claim that they felt threatened by this other random patient acting very strangely towards them. Then maybe she would have a chance to speak to him, to reorganize their plans.

Let us not get too carried away, perhaps this tension will just blow over before anything . . .

It was then that the newcomer made a swipe at the mop pole.

Eric was expected something like this to happen and merely moved to his right to avoid the bucket and when Bryce went for the mop. Eric merely let it slip from his grasp and struck at his face with a balled up fist in an attempt to hit him with a quick sucker punch.

Eric would then use his legs to knee strike at Bryce’s exposed undersize since now he was in leg strike range. Eric kept up his attack to see if Bryce had any skill in martial combat. If he did not Eric was going to try and get him in a throwing position and get him to the ground before Bryce could knock him down with his superior size and strength…


Eric noticed Jamie in the corner and yelled, “Run for it!”

Eric was expected something like this to happen and merely moved to his right to avoid the bucket and when Bryce went for the mop. Eric merely let it slip from his grasp and struck at his face with a balled up fist in an attempt to hit him with a quick sucker punch.

Eric would then use his legs to knee strike at Bryce’s exposed undersize since now he was in leg strike range. Eric kept up his attack to see if Bryce had any skill in martial combat. If he did not Eric was going to try and get him in a throwing position and get him to the ground before Bryce could knock him down with his superior size and strength…


Eric noticed Jamie in the corner and yelled, “Run for it!”

Thoughts flooded her head. Amongst them was her own gut instinct of aiding him—she had some of that self-defense training, after all, and could be quite capable if she had some sort of weapon. However, she had no weapon on hand, and certainly could not hope to contend with the much larger man in hand to hand combat.

All of these thoughts were drowned out with Eric’s command.

She turned and, with a shift of her hands to secure her gown again, started down the hall, looking back to be sure he followed.

She turned and, with a shift of her hands to secure her gown again, started down the hall, looking back to be sure he followed.

Eric was expected something like this to happen and merely moved to his right to avoid the bucket and when Bryce went for the mop. Eric merely let it slip from his grasp and struck at his face with a balled up fist in an attempt to hit him with a quick sucker punch.

Eric would then use his legs to knee strike at Bryce’s exposed undersize since now he was in leg strike range. Eric kept up his attack to see if Bryce had any skill in martial combat. If he did not Eric was going to try and get him in a throwing position and get him to the ground before Bryce could knock him down with his superior size and strength…
F*ck... Bryce thought as the fist hit him in the face. The force of the punch and the taste of blood in his mouth further awakened his vigilance. He tightened his grip on the mop and saw Eric's legs in his peripheral vision, but it was too late to avoid the strike...

Bryce quickly fell back towards the wall. Ignoring the pain, he tightened his grip on the mop and thrust it forward, attempting to hit and possibly pin the patient to the other wall. If Eric would move left or right to avoid the mop, then Bryce's quite sure he can kick him with either foot...

OOC: I seem to suck in describing fight scenes. Pardon me.

F*ck... Bryce thought as the fist hit him in the face. The force of the punch and the taste of blood in his mouth further awakened his vigilance. He tightened his grip on the mop and saw Eric's legs in his peripheral vision, but it was too late to avoid the strike...

Bryce quickly fell back towards the wall. Ignoring the pain, he tightened his grip on the mop and thrust it forward, attempting to hit and possibly pin the patient to the other wall. If Eric would move left or right to avoid the mop, then Bryce's quite sure he can kick him with either foot...

OOC: I seem to suck in describing fight scenes. Pardon me.


Eric seeing the mop coming forward decided to take Bryce down fast. Eric ducked down using his arms to block the mop from striking his face, as he charged forward to bull rush Bryce’s legs.

The goal was to break Bryce’s stance and make him fall to the ground. If Bryce hit the floor Eric could run for it and hopefully, catch up to Jamie before the guards get here and break up the brawl….


Eric grunted as he rushed into the area and prayed that the mop would not swing down on his exposed back…


OOC: It's okay, I am not an expert either...

Eric seeing the mop coming forward decided to take Bryce down fast. Eric ducked down using his arms to block the mop from striking his face, as he charged forward to bull rush Bryce’s legs.

The goal was to break Bryce’s stance and make him fall to the ground. If Bryce hit the floor Eric could run for it and hopefully, catch up to Jamie before the guards get here and break up the brawl….

Eric grunted as he rushed into the area and prayed that the mop would not swing down on his exposed back…

OOC: It's okay, I am not an expert either...
To his surprise, Bryce saw the patient duck down to avoid the mop. Eric charged ahead towards him, aiming for his legs. In one liquid motion, Bryce threw the mop far from the reach of either of them (to attract other staff's attention), stepped aside out from the line of the charge, grabbed the patient's coat, and pushed him to try to floor him down...

OOC: Who's playing the guards, if ever?

OCC: its to hard for me to go with like 5 threads at the same time, as i said before, anyone may control the guards.

((OOC: NC is supposed to be, I believe.))
IC: Foxfire stalked down the hall, trying to look unsuspicious. He heard a clang noise, some grunts, and the sound of flesh hitting a wall. He peeked curiously into the room from wich the sounds were emitting and watched the two men fight. Interesting...should I cheer for the crazy one or the doctor?

OCC: its to hard for me to go with like 5 threads at the same time, as i said before, anyone may control the guards.

OOC: I could RP the guards, but I also need another person for that.

OOC: OK

Unconsciousness brought Maria's mind to an inner dream of megalomania...

She was sitting in a majestic seat in the center of a highly decorated hall, Soviet style, several sickle and hammers symbols around, the place seemed like a soviet propaganda transformed in reality.

"Great Comrade Maria, the Soviet Spain is rebelling again against the Party!"

She then got up and looked at the Party member with anger, as she said

"Don't they ever learn? Why do they insist on suffering? Why won't they give up on their suicide quest for freedom? They have no chance and yet they keep bothering us! You know what must be done comrade!"

The other woman nodded to Maria and asked "Only in the cities openly rebelling or in all of them?"

Maria then said in a loud, aggressive tone:

"They must be taught again and again! Deploy the agent in all their cities, and send whoever survives to the Gulags until they die of exhaustion! I have tolerated their insolence for too long and it's obvious they will never accept the Party and continue rebelling against us!"

"But great comrade Maria! That is geno..."

Before she could finish Maria took a Machiavelli's "The Prince" pocket book and whacked against her head:

"Get to your senses comrade! This is the way politics work since the birth of Civilization! If we let them loose and underestimated, they will eventually take us down by convincing others to join their 'revolution' and hang us on posts or worse!"

The woman lowered her head: "I am sorry great comrade, it just... why can't politics work with compassion?"

Maria frowned "That is an incredibly dumb question comrade! Look around you, how many nations where politics are based in 'compassion' have kept their sovereignty? This is what must be done for the survival of all the Soviets and of our sovereignty, no matter how disgusting and horrible it seems, the ends justify it, if we don't dominate others we shall be dominated by others, this world is totally Darwinian comrade, so you should be proud to be among the Strong and not question it! Now reread "The Prince" before talking to me again!"

The woman quickly left the hall through the front door.

"Damn anarchists! Not only giving me headache but putting my loyal comrades to question my methods!"

Then the dream became less clear in time and space... Maria saw bombers dropping countless chemical weapons against the island of Third Spanish States, people screaming of agony, chaos and destruction annihilating a nation she once was proud to belong to. Then the dream became clear again... but now it was different, it seemed so real... there was only blackness and a feeling of pressure against her head, neck, forehead, wrists and ankles. Then she opened her eyes... she was strapped to an electric chair and her executioner face was clear, he said:

"Maria Medellin, for countless crimes against humanity, including but not limited to the genocide of Third Spanish States people, you are condemned to a gruesome death by... You killed all my family monster! Take this!", and he turned on the power."

Then the weird dream faded on and she awakened to the reality...

Strangely the feelings of pressure were real.

(OOC: I'll put the "reality" on another post)

OCC: Greal, go for it, second, Spanish states:accepted.

((OOC: I'll RP the guards, if no one minds.))
Foxfire heard footsteps behind him. Time to haul ass. He ducked into another ward. Three white uniformed guards, glorified orderlies armed with tazers and stun batons, approached the ward. The leader saw the two men fighting. "Get him!" he pointed to Eric. Two of the guards whipped out their stun batons and stepped inside. "Back up, sir!" one of them shouted to Bryce.

((OOC: I'll RP the guards, if no one minds.))
Foxfire heard footsteps behind him. Time to haul ass. He ducked into another ward. Three white uniformed guards, glorified orderlies armed with tazers and stun batons, approached the ward. The leader saw the two men fighting. "Get him!" he pointed to Eric. Two of the guards whipped out their stun batons and stepped inside. "Back up, sir!" one of them shouted to Bryce.

As the scuffle became clearly not one sided, Jamie stopped, turned, and hesitated; she wanted to help the Deatharoni, but as the guard quickly gathered and shouted for him to be siezed she realized she could not, at least not directly.

“Stop him!” she cried, approaching the guard, “He attacked . . .” she could not remember if the Deatharoni had told her his name, so merely indicated to which man she meant, saying that it was the newcomer who attacked the Deatharoni, “him, and I ran to get help. Thank God you got here so quickly.”

The leader guard nodded, having stayed out of the fight. "Yes, Mrs., we've got it all under control." The two guards in the little room advanced, holding their stun batons out menacingly. The Leader seemed to think. "Wait..." he pointed to Bryce. "The Doctor attacked the patient?" he asked Jamie, scratching his head. The other two guards paused as well, looking to their leader. They were obviously not the brightest bunch.

OOC: I'm sorry, which one goes by Deatharoni? Is it Eric or Bryce? I'll replace this with an IC post when I get an answer.

OOC: Eric is from Deatharon. Will replace this post as well.

Bryce looked up at them, hoping that they don't confuse the white-coat-wearing Eric as the doctor of them two. "Where have you been?" Bryce said frustratedly. "These two patients are roaming around the corridor. What if they were trying to escape?" He licked at his bleeding lip. "This one," he tipped his chin towards Eric, "brandished a mop. I have to take him down before he gets me. Make sure to put him in a straitjacket. This guy's dangerous."

"Uh..." The Leader was confused. "So sorry sir, uh, I'll just er..." he trailed off. Then he remembered his training. "Can I see your doctor's I.D. please?" he tried to be polite. In the room the two guards looked wildly back and forth between the two men, unsure of what to do.

Bryce looked up at them, hoping that they don't confuse the white-coat-wearing Eric as the doctor of them two. "Where have you been?" Bryce said frustratedly. "These two patients are roaming around the corridor. What if they were trying to escape?" He licked at his bleeding lip. "This one," he tipped his chin towards Eric, "brandished a mop. I have to take him down before he gets me. Make sure to put him in a straitjacket. This guy's dangerous."

“Um, sir,” she said to the guard, “That’s not exactly true. He,” she motioned at Bryce, “Was acting very strangely, unstably, and we felt threatened. He,” motioning at Eric, “pointed the mop at him, yes, asking him to go away, at which point he kicked the bucket at him and tried to take the mop handle. After that point he was really trying to defend himself from what we thought was a mentally unstable patient, and I ran to get help.” Jamie was terribly polite, acting fully innocent and borderline cutesy; she hoped that she could sway him a little with that on top of her reason.

The Leader Guard allowed his eyes to travel up and down Jamie's body, as exposed as it was. He finally tore his eyes away, and tried to act authorative. "Sir," he said to Bryce, "please procure a doctor's I.D. If you cannot, we will be forced to detain you." The Leader didn't hear the door open behind him. Foxfire stood there, uncertain. He looked at Jamie, he looked at the Leader, and he looked at Eric, Bryce, and the two guards. He stayed silent, observing though cold yellow, intelligent, and obviously not insane eyes.

The Leader Guard allowed his eyes to travel up and down Jamie's body, as exposed as it was. He finally tore his eyes away, and tried to act authorative. "Sir," he said to Bryce, "please procure a doctor's I.D. If you cannot, we will be forced to detain you." The Leader didn't hear the door open behind him. Foxfire stood there, uncertain. He looked at Jamie, he looked at the Leader, and he looked at Eric, Bryce, and the two guards. He stayed silent, observing though cold yellow, intelligent, and obviously not insane eyes.
Bryce reached through his back pocket, took out his wallet with his IDs, and tossed it to the guard. "Dr. C. Bryce Colbourne... and there's another patient escaping behind you... and if I were you, I'd lock all the patient's doors from now on."

“Um, sir,” she said to the guard, “That’s not exactly true. He,” she motioned at Bryce, “Was acting very strangely, unstably, and we felt threatened. He,” motioning at Eric, “pointed the mop at him, yes, asking him to go away, at which point he kicked the bucket at him and tried to take the mop handle. After that point he was really trying to defend himself from what we thought was a mentally unstable patient, and I ran to get help.” Jamie was terribly polite, acting fully innocent and borderline cutesy; she hoped that she could sway him a little with that on top of her reason.
Bryce turned to her. "Jamie Carlson, Room 3 Bed 3, paranoia. Why don't you return to your room before I ask these guys to put you in a straitjacket too?"

While chaos was still going on inside, a black van just arrived at the "Happy House" entrance, on both its doors was painted the Third Spanish States ANTIFA militia symbol: two flags, black and red putted together inside a circle which outer lines had written "Fuerzas Antifascistas". Two women and a man dressed in black and with pistols and ammunition in their belts left from the car, they opened the back doors of the van...

Maria woke up, she immediately noticed she was wearing a white clothing, had several bandages at her face, was completely strapped to a dolly with a bed, even her fingers were strapped by tiny belts, her yes accompanied the three persons that opened the van back door as she said, in Spanish:

"Let me guess the cheap pretext you pigs used to put me here. I wouldn't be surprised at all if you wrote sluggishly progressing schizophrenia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sluggish_schizophrenia) on my file. In fact, that would be a lovable irony."

One of the woman stared at Maria eyes:

"Do you think killing a children in cold blood is normal?"

And Maria replied with a cynical smile:

"And do you think that torturing people to death unjustifiably, hunting people because they have criminals in their families and leading them to such despair to the point of resorting to kill a children in the first place as a desperate mean for survival, besides killing a children in cold blood using as pretext the fact his father is a bandit, is normal?"

The woman quickly replied:

"I never agreed with those clearly fascist laws which came from those fascist wolves in sheep clothing. Eugenics? Sub-humans? Their rhetoric gave their real nature. Currently the ANTIFA militias are dealing with that nazi scum that tried a slippery slope using crime as a pretext. But that does not change the fact you killed six innocents, including a children"

Maria kept a cynical smile:

"Yes, as if by the gun in your belt you would do anything different if you were in such a desperate situation where thousands wanted to skin you alive like mine"

The woman frowned:

"Your life is worth nothing compared to the life of those you killed. If I had no choice but to kill a million of people like you to save a single honest, hard-working person I would do it scum! I would kill myself and do a favor to the world if I were you"

Maria spitted against the woman, which immediately replied, after almost losing her control and beating her:

"You have a severe antisocial disorder. You have all the symptoms and the way you are behaving now just proves it."

Maria then replied again, cynically:

"Hello! Let's send 99.99% of world politicians to insane asylums! They have severe antisocial personality disorders as they line their pockets with money which was to be given to the starving!"

The woman simply remained calm and said:

"I believe this personality disorder is bullshit myself, you're just a shameless amoral opportunist which tried to gain power at the expense of others but failed, epically. This is actually a punishment for your crimes as you are clearly beyond any rehabilitation and you became famous enough to be hated by the whole nation after you killed that children."

Maria spitted against her again: "The strongest survive, that's the law you idiots!"

The woman simply didn't care and laughed: "I am Isabel and I am stronger than you because I never was at the risk of death nor was retarded enough to make enemies I couldn't handle. Now look at you! Do you think you are strong? By Darwinian terms: You are an idiot or you would not be here now! You are among the weak and a prey having delusions of being the predator!"

Maria started to violently force herself against the straps, and Isabel just laughed more and more, with the other two also laughing, then she spitted against Isabel, once... "Stop this Maria, I am starting to lose my patience"... twice "Isabel, I'll get out of here, I'll get you and gouge your eyes out with my own hands for this humiliation and then torture you to death! You'll pay for this! I'll still have my revenge!", the dolly was shaking as she screamed in anger as a response to such immense humiliation, Maria's shouts could be listened from inside the "Happy House". Isabel was also on her nerves when she was again spitted by Maria. She then said "You asked for this scum!", wrapped a clean rag around her small hand and just as Maria opened her mouth to spit again, Isabel punched against her mouth with the rag, hitting straight against her throat.

Maria groaned of pain and tried to bite Isabel's hand, but she took her hand out first, leaving the large rag inside Maria's mouth, and then Maria couldn't stand the pain anymore. Isabel then looked at her friend "Let's teach this child killer a lesson! Needle with line, please"

"Sadistic pigs... they won't do what I'm thinking... they won't..." Maria's confused mind thought when suddenly Isabel, with the help of the others, closed her mouth shut and drove a needle through behind her lips, making her groan again as she agonized in pain. After a few seconds her lips were sewn together with the line, and she regained her senses as she heard.

"This partial mask can disguise it... and strap this special serum to her veins to finish it so they won't ever have to take her out of the dolly for her to continue living in... partial sensory deprivation and Maria, you deserve much worse than this!", Isabel insisted. Maria eyes were always locked into her, filled with a mix of hatred and despair.

a serum bag was brought, and a needle went through her arm veins to start giving her nutrients directly rather than through the digestive system, then they inserted a partial face mask (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/a9/Hannibal_in_Steel.jpg) on her to hide what they did and brought the dolly to the courtyard. Then Isabel went to look for the the reception and found it, as the two others pulled the dolly behind her with Maria, her eyes shriveling in despair:

"We brought a very dangerous one here, don't be surprised on the way she is held under control because I assure you that if you let her less restrained than that she will escape, and as the message sent to here said, kill whoever is in her way. This serum shall allow her to remain alive without having to eat, drink or with any "nature calls" at all and we shall send more of it to you monthly, a monthly supply is already on the Van. She must be kept on this dolly at all costs, and preferably in an sterilized and quite well air-conditioned room so... she won't stink. Finally I would like to negotiate other... special requests for this very special case with the ones responsible. And replace her bandages daily, after a month she'll recover, and don't worry, she has no wounds behind that mask, just at where those visible bandages are", Isabel added.

The Leader Guard allowed his eyes to travel up and down Jamie's body, as exposed as it was. He finally tore his eyes away, and tried to act authorative. "Sir," he said to Bryce, "please procure a doctor's I.D. If you cannot, we will be forced to detain you." The Leader didn't hear the door open behind him. Foxfire stood there, uncertain. He looked at Jamie, he looked at the Leader, and he looked at Eric, Bryce, and the two guards. He stayed silent, observing though cold yellow, intelligent, and obviously not insane eyes.

Well aware of the guard’s ogling, Jamie was quite uncomfortable; she hid this, not letting it show in her expression and suppressing her impulse to adjust and cover herself. Perhaps her strategy had worked too well, but it may yet be helpful. If this guy was a doctor, though, it may be difficult to come out of this well.

The receptionist nodded. "Doctor Handsen." she introduced the man behind her. He was not young nor old, with pepper gray hair, glasses, dark blue eyes, and was about 5,8. He was holding a clipboard. "So what are they, these "special requests?" He asked as two hospital guards stepped up to the dolly, ready to remove the patient once the talks were completed.

[snip]Bryce turned to her. "Jamie Carlson, Room 3 Bed 3, paranoia. Why don't you return to your room before I ask these guys to put you in a straitjacket too?"

She then turned to the doctor, Doctor C. Bryce Colbourne (did the C. stand for Christian?); his threat was painfully real to her. She had just gotten out of a straight jacket, and did not want to get back into another. Still, she felt a certain assuredness all of the sudden, and felt that caving now would not be good.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a doctor? Why did you act crazy?" she asked, keeping up her persona. She hoped to seem perfectly innocent, a true victim in the situation.

She then turned to the doctor, Doctor C. Bryce Colbourne (did the C. stand for Christian?); his threat was painfully real to her. She had just gotten out of a straight jacket, and did not want to get back into another. Still, she felt a certain assuredness all of the sudden, and felt that caving now would not be good.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a doctor? Why did you act crazy?" she asked, keeping up her persona. She hoped to seem perfectly innocent, a true victim in the situation.
"The patient is having delusions again," Bryce muttered to the guards. "I'll go get the meds for Ms. Carlson, please take care of these two patients."

OOC: Yes. His name is Christian Bryce Colbourne.

The receptionist nodded. "Doctor Handsen." she introduced the man behind her. He was not young nor old, with pepper gray hair, glasses, dark blue eyes, and was about 5,8. He was holding a clipboard. "So what are they, these "special requests?" He asked as two hospital guards stepped up to the dolly, ready to remove the patient once the talks were completed.

Isabel, accompanied by her 2 friends, looked at the hospital guards:

"First, we would not like that Doctor Handsen, for the sake of your own personell safety... she must be kept and held this way, have you ever watched those shows where those illusionists manage to get out of chained chambers where they were put in chained and with straightjackets? Well, she is as good as those guys on such skills"

As they talked Maria managed to slip a single finger out of the strap thanks to her incredible body flexibility and agility... Isabel noticed and pointed it as she putted it back and tightened the strap...

"Guess I don't need to explain this anymore"

"This serum in her vein, it gives exactly all nutrients and water her body needs, nothing more, nothing less and does not make her need to go to the W.C. at all. All we want is to put her dolly in a clean, air conditioned room and not unstrap her from it at all. There is enough Serum in our van for a whole month and we'll send more supplies each month. Also, I have to talk to you in a more private place doctor, if you don't mind"

Maria eyes scanned the place and stared at the doctor, her stare was somewhat unsettling.

"The patient is having delusions again," Bryce muttered to the guards. "I'll go get the meds for Ms. Carlson, please take care of these two patients."

OOC: Yes. His name is Christian Bryce Colbourne.

"I've never hallucinated," she said, not defensively, but like she was making a casual correction, "I've never had delusions. Check my file.

"Also," she continued, her wavering confidence getting a bit stronger, "I am not supposed to be on any meds. They gave me sedatives to transport me, but they do that with everyone." Jamie was half talking to the doctor, half to the guards. She realized that it was quite unwise to be making an enemy of a doctor, but could hardly back off now.

OOC: It was not an OOC question, but a private thought on her part

"Where's Dr. Colbourne?" Kate Valera asked the nurse on the front desk.
"Who?"
"Dr. Christian Bryce Colbourne."
The young nurse looked at her blankly. Kate realized something.
"You're new here, aren't you?" she asked, smiling.
"Yes, doctor."
"Dr. Kate Valera," she said, extending her hand. "You?"
"Luann Beckett. I'm a nurse."
"Nice meeting you, Luann. Anyway, you noticed Dr. Colbourne?"
"I'm sorry doctor - "
"Kate. Call me Kate, please."
"Doctor Kate, I'm sorry, but I don't know who Dr. Colbourne is."
"Dr. Colbourne," she began, retrieving a mental image of Bryce, "tall, handsome guy, blond hair, green eyes..."
"Yes ma'am I believe I saw someone like that. He was... he was..." Luann stopped herself from saying that the guy was stern and terrifying and...
"Snarky?" Kate clinched Luann's word. "That's Dr. Colbourne." She felt sorry for the new nurse. "What did he say?" she asked, pulling out the roster of patients.
"I don't want to talk about it..."
"Okay," Kate decided not to push it. The new nurse might have been unnerved with Bryce. He's got a lot of explainin' to do... "Let me see... Room 6 Bed 2, Donskoy, Kira, schizophrenia... Room 7 Bed 1, Rose, Foxfire, mania... Room 8 Bed 1, Medellin, Maria, antisocial personality disorder...
We've got a lot of patients now... where do you think is Dr. Colbourne?"
"He took the file of the patient of Room 4 Bed 2."
"Okay, thanks."

Reception Room...
"Of course, of course." Doctor Handsen nodded to the guards. "You chaps just wheel her along and I'll be there in a moment. Please," he stepped into a room messy with paperwork, "step into my office."
Ward...
The leader got even more confused, and opened his mouth to protest. He was saved, however, by a sudden blow to the head. He looked surprised for a moment, then fell to the floor. Behind him stoo Foxfire, holding the stun baton, looking both surprised and proud of himself. That feeling was quick to vanish, however. Both guards stepped forward. "It's him! Get him!" They charged, batons buzzing. Foxfire yelped and stumbled backwards, waving his baton ineffectivly at them.

"I've never hallucinated," she said, not defensively, but like she was making a casual correction, "I've never had delusions. Check my file.

"Also," she continued, her wavering confidence getting a bit stronger, "I am not supposed to be on any meds. They gave me sedatives to transport me, but they do that with everyone." Jamie was half talking to the doctor, half to the guards. She realized that it was quite unwise to be making an enemy of a doctor, but could hardly back off now.

OOC: It was not an OOC question, but a private thought on her part
Bryce looked at the guards authoritatively, raising his eyebrow, sending the message, who would you believe? The doctor or the paranoid patient?

He did not wait for the answer. "I believe we're done here," he said. "I'll go get the nurse to give 100 mg chlorpromazine IM for Ms. Carlson at Room 3 Bed 3. That should sedate her. I'll get the other meds later."

OOC: Oooh sorry...

Reception Room...
"Of course, of course." Doctor Handsen nodded to the guards. "You chaps just wheel her along and I'll be there in a moment. Please," he stepped into a room messy with paperwork, "step into my office."
Ward...
The leader got even more confused, and opened his mouth to protest. He was saved, however, by a sudden blow to the head. He looked surprised for a moment, then fell to the floor. Behind him stoo Foxfire, holding the stun baton, looking both surprised and proud of himself. That feeling was quick to vanish, however. Both guards stepped forward. "It's him! Get him!" They charged, batons buzzing. Foxfire yelped and stumbled backwards, waving his baton ineffectivly at them.

With the shocking interruption by the odd, baton wielding patient, Jamie swore aloud in spite of herself. These guards were the closest they had to a neutral party, and she thought she had partially won them over, in spite of the doctor’s position. Without them, the doctor could do as he liked with them . . . or get his ass beat.

She rushed to Eric’s side, forgetting her own modesty as she leaned over at his side and whispered quickly to him, “We still have a chance, friend; just play along and crush him if we can make it look like self-defense.”

Bryce looked at the guards authoritatively, raising his eyebrow, sending the message, who would you believe? The doctor or the paranoid patient?

He did not wait for the answer. "I believe we're done here," he said. "I'll go get the nurse to give 100 mg chlorpromazine IM for Ms. Carlson at Room 3 Bed 3. That should sedate her. I'll get the other meds later."

OOC: Oooh sorry...

"I said you could check my file," she said with confidence, looking up at the men, "I don't take any meds. But I think we should have a medical doctor take a look at him. I think he's hurt." She quickly straightened up and adjusted her gown again.

OOC: My fault.

Foxfire's baton was knocked away and he was slammed over the head repeatedly with the guard's batons. They left him lying there and came back to the patients and doctor. "Sorry about that, Doctor." said the first to Bryce. "Just clearing up the patients. We'll have this lot out of the way in no time." They advanced on Jamie and Eric, batons held out menacingly. "Now, just stay still everything's going to be okay."

OOC: I know this will start to look like a prelude for an X-Files episode.

Reception Room...
"Of course, of course." Doctor Handsen nodded to the guards. "You chaps just wheel her along and I'll be there in a moment. Please," he stepped into a room messy with paperwork, "step into my office."

"Sure doctor."

Isabel and her friends followed the doctor, once they were at the room, she then started to explain, with some difficulty:

"Well... how should I start this.."

She gasped unsure on what to say when after two seconds she started again:

"We have access to some quite interesting declassified documents about certain old 20 century experiments on sensory deprivation which brought some interesting results of extra-sensory perception, but as they sadly, or more exactly, fortunately, couldn't repeat them or "measure" them and as ESP wasn't the priority of the research they were doing in the first place, everybody on their team dismissed it as pseudo-science and their research was canceled to open more funds for research on the mind effect of drugs. This stuff all came from what was known as Project MK-ULTRA. As you see doctor Handsen, according to this report, the subjects who were at more than one year of sensory deprivation started to have 'visions' of events that happened before they happened and to 'see' through the third dimension beyond the physical limitations of human eyes. They never managed to prove it scientifically, but evidences do exist. These statistics here show that their electric system depreciation doubled and electric malfunctions have almost doubled in occurrence on those labs while the subjects were under sensory deprivation, and when they were taken out, then suddenly everything went back to normal, I think that is a too big of a coincidence"

"I understand you might be quite skeptic about this doctor, but what if these reports are correct? This could lead mankind to a better comprehension of the universe and human mind... we can pay you any additional for you to keep her here for more than an year into sensory deprivation. We don't have some things though, so we ask you to blindfold and put ear mufflers into her and drug her with substances that reduce or remove completely the feeling of touch but not conscience as well to make the experiment complete. I know the ethical implications doctor... but she killed six innocent people, among them a 4 years old children, if she can do such involuntary sacrifice for the name of science, then I guess her huge crimes could even be forgiven."

Handsen coughed softly into his hand. "I see...we will, of course, require extra funds for such an endevor. But it can be done, here. A year, you say. Hmm. And what, do you propose, should we do if she happens to get loose?"

"I said you could check my file," she said with confidence, looking up at the men, "I don't take any meds. But I think we should have a medical doctor take a look at him. I think he's hurt." She quickly straightened up and adjusted her gown again.

OOC: My fault.
Foxfire's baton was knocked away and he was slammed over the head repeatedly with the guard's batons. They left him lying there and came back to the patients and doctor. "Sorry about that, Doctor." said the first to Bryce. "Just clearing up the patients. We'll have this lot out of the way in no time." They advanced on Jamie and Eric, batons held out menacingly. "Now, just stay still everything's going to be okay."
"Thank you," Bryce said to the guards, retrieving his wallet and moving out of the way of the stun guns. "Oh, and by the way, Ms. Carlson, I checked your file earlier," he said condescendingly, "You really need to be put on meds... and on a straitjacket."

Foxfire's baton was knocked away and he was slammed over the head repeatedly with the guard's batons. They left him lying there and came back to the patients and doctor. "Sorry about that, Doctor." said the first to Bryce. "Just clearing up the patients. We'll have this lot out of the way in no time." They advanced on Jamie and Eric, batons held out menacingly. "Now, just stay still everything's going to be okay."

“Okay,” she said, raising her hands in front of her, though at about face level, for any higher would raise problems, “We’ve done nothing wrong; he was just trying to defend us. So we have nothing to fear, yes? Please promise me that you will check our files before allowing any treatments.” The last sentence was laced with more than she had been using, almost to the level of being flirtatious; she did not want to be falsely drugged again, and, quite frankly, did not trust the good doctor as far as she could throw him.

“Please,” she nearly begged, “please.”

Isabel smiled: "I left that strap over her pinky not as tight at it should be on purpose doctor Hansen, to demonstrate her 'skills' to you, as of now she has absolutely no chance of escaping unless she teleports her body out of there, which is completely impossible, even if these reports from MK-ULTRA are true. Now you can always put some additional straps if you fear she might escape... and, would fifty million dollars cover the research costs?"

While that happened, Maria kept her hostile stare on the guards, wondering how, and if she had a chance at all, to escape.

The two guards stopped in their tracks. "Well..." said the first, and it was quite obvious he was eyeing her over his face mask, "if you'll just go back to your wards out of your own free will we won't have to do anything." They glanced to the doctor. "Yes?"
Office...
Isabel smiled: "I left that strap over her pinky not as tight at it should be on purpose doctor Hansen, to demonstrate her 'skills' to you, as of now she has absolutely no chance of escaping unless she teleports her body out of there, which is completely impossible, even if these reports from MK-ULTRA are true. Now you can always put some additional straps if you fear she might escape... and, would fifty million dollars cover the research costs?"

While that happened, Maria kept her hostile stare on the guards, wondering how, and if she had a chance at all, to escape.
Handsen nodded. "Alright. Alright. You say there is an amount of the drug in your truck. If you would bring that to us, and keep us supplied, that would do fine. I hospital requires the money, of course." He nodded again. "She's in good hands here, you need not worry." He glanced at the patient. "So, when the year is up, you come back and take her away?"

The two guards stopped in their tracks. "Well..." said the first, and it was quite obvious he was eyeing her over his face mask, "if you'll just go back to your wards out of your own free will we won't have to do anything." They glanced to the doctor. "Yes?"
Bryce thought of it for a moment. If he weren't going to put them on a straitjacket, they are going to have a hard time subduing them later on, especially the male patient.

"No," Dr. Colbourne said, and then looked at Jamie. Probably I can handle her, but I can't take chances. "Put them both on a straitjacket."

Isabel nodded "After one year and 2 months, to be more specific, we shall send you supplies, and also, if you witness any strange or unexplainable phenomena during her internment, we would like written reports of them, preferably with the signature of two witnesses you have a deep trust of. Now, let me take my mutualist credit card... don't worry, it is effectively an anonymous digital currency convertible in any decent offshore bank and I added a software to it to allow it to convert correctly values from m¢ to dollars, I can transfer it directly and immediately to a numbered bank account of your preference using your local network connection with no traces of where it came from.", them after a pause she added "and... we never had this conversation, if you know what I mean"

The two guards stopped in their tracks. "Well..." said the first, and it was quite obvious he was eyeing her over his face mask, "if you'll just go back to your wards out of your own free will we won't have to do anything." They glanced to the doctor. "Yes?"
Office...

Handsen nodded. "Alright. Alright. You say there is an amount of the drug in your truck. If you would bring that to us, and keep us supplied, that would do fine. I hospital requires the money, of course." He nodded again. "She's in good hands here, you need not worry." He glanced at the patient. "So, when the year is up, you come back and take her away?"

Bryce thought of it for a moment. If he weren't going to put them on a straitjacket, they are going to have a hard time subduing them later on, especially the male patient.

"No," Dr. Colbourne said, and then looked at Jamie. Probably I can handle her, but I can't take chances. "Put them both on a straitjacket."

“No, please, we are going peacefully, not resisting at all; we have done nothing wrong, only defended ourselves. I have not even done anything at all. I have been fully cooperative and honest. Please, I don’t want to be bound up like that again.” Now she felt sure she was milking it a bit too much, but they probably wouldn’t notice; they had no reason to be suspicious of her. She took a single, cautious step backwards.

Bryce thought of it for a moment. If he weren't going to put them on a straitjacket, they are going to have a hard time subduing them later on, especially the male patient.

"No," Dr. Colbourne said, and then looked at Jamie. Probably I can handle her, but I can't take chances. "Put them both on a straitjacket."
"Okay, doctor." The other guard reached in a nearby closet and brought out three straitjackets. "One for the crazy over there, too." he explained, glancing over his shoulder at Foxfire's prone form. The two patients were advanced on once again, with straitjackets. "Stay calm, your not getting any meds, just a straitjacket." said the one guard as they moved in.
Office...
Isabel nodded "After one year and 2 months, to be more specific, we shall send you supplies, and also, if you witness any strange or unexplainable phenomena during her internment, we would like written reports of them, preferably with the signature of two witnesses you have a deep trust of. Now, let me take my mutualist credit card... don't worry, it is effectively an anonymous digital currency convertible in any decent offshore bank and I added a software to it to allow it to convert correctly values from m¢ to dollars, I can transfer it directly and immediately to a numbered bank account of your preference using your local network connection with no traces of where it came from.", them after a pause she added "and... we never had this conversation, if you know what I mean"
"Of course." said Handsen smoothly. "Naturally." He procured a form entailing the patient's enterence into the hospital and an ornate fountain pen. "Please just sign here."
OOC: I have to go, bedtime for me.

"Okay, doctor." The other guard reached in a nearby closet and brought out three straitjackets. "One for the crazy over there, too." he explained, glancing over his shoulder at Foxfire's prone form. The two patients were advanced on once again, with straitjackets. "Stay calm, your not getting any meds, just a straitjacket." said the one guard as they moved in.

“Wait . . .” her hands were open, palms facing forward, as unthreateningly as possible, “Please, if you just escort me back to my cell . . . I have done nothing at all,” she began to stammer a bit. She absolutely did not want to go back into a straight jacket; suddenly it became more than just about the jacket. Sure she hated them, but she had been in more than her share of them and should not have been reacting so strongly to this. It had become the whole thing: it was her whole false imprisonment, her whole abuse, her whole isolation from civilized humanity. She had, in her eyes, come so close to freedom, so close to returning to real life, had had a true human relationship again.

“I am not violent,” she said, on the verge of tears, “Any of you can easily hold me without a jacket anyway . . . we were not . . . we were just . . .”

“Wait . . .” her hands were open, palms facing forward, as unthreateningly as possible, “Please, if you just escort me back to my cell . . . I have done nothing at all,” she began to stammer a bit. She absolutely did not want to go back into a straight jacket; suddenly it became more than just about the jacket. Sure she hated them, but she had been in more than her share of them and should not have been reacting so strongly to this. It had become the whole thing: it was her whole false imprisonment, her whole abuse, her whole isolation from civilized humanity. She had, in her eyes, come so close to freedom, so close to returning to real life, had had a true human relationship again.

“I am not violent,” she said, on the verge of tears, “Any of you can easily hold me without a jacket anyway . . . we were not . . . we were just . . .”
"Hush now, please." The first guard gently took her arms and began to slid them into the holes of the straitjacket. The other held the jacket up to Eric. "Are you going to come quietly, now?"

"Of course." said Handsen smoothly. "Naturally." He procured a form entailing the patient's enterence into the hospital and an ornate fountain pen. "Please just sign here."
OOC: I have to go, bedtime for me.

Isabel first looked at was written, then signed the paper with the name "Isabel Molina". She then looked at the doctor and asked: "Do you have any account where I can deposit the 'donation'? And I wish to have a last look at the patient I with my friends brought before departing too, maybe she'll be different when I return"

Isabel first looked at was written, then signed the paper with the name "Isabel Molina". She then looked at the doctor and asked: "Do you have any account where I can deposit the 'donation'? And I wish to have a last look at the patient I with my friends brought before departing too, maybe she'll be different when I return"
The doctor nodded and passed her a slip of paper from his lab coat pocket. "The details are on the paper." He glanced at the patient. "You may look at her again, do you require a private room or operating area?" He seemed perfectly calm, but inside he was filled with a kind of dark joy. Five million dollars!

Isabel smiled: "I want a private, sterilized and air-conditioned room at preferably 18º or at most 20º Celsius to avoid any health complications for her and due to hygiene reasons as well, no operating area is needed though"

She then looked at the account number and started to type a series of numbers over the keyboard attachment to her credit card. After one minute she stopped and smiled

"It should already be transfered"

OOC: a page of the document she was carrying (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/4f/DeclassifiedMKULTRA.jpg)

Handsen took out a piece of scrap paper and wrote the specifications down on it. He nodded. "It will be done." He took out a Pocket PC and typed and scrolled for a few moments. His eyes widened as he saw his account balance. "Erm...yes, it's correct." He stared, transfixed, at the screen.

Isabela smiled, she seemed to not be skeptic at all on the potential results of what she sought:

"Now can one of your buddies escort me to take a last look on the future psychic Maria Medellin? And I would rather to be alone with her"

Isabela smiled, she seemed to not be skeptic at all on the potential results of what she sought:

"Now can one of your buddies escort me to take a last look on the future psychic Maria Medellin? And I would rather to be alone with her"
"Of course." One of the guards walked in. "Right this way, ma'am." he led her down the hall to the room. It was not the room she had specified, that would be done after she finished speaking with the patient. The guard pointed to the patient. "She's all yours. When you're done come out and we'll get her to a special room." He bowed himself out.
OOC: Gotta go.

As Michael sat ignored in the Isolation Room, he grasped the chain on his bed. He began trying to break the chain, repetitively, until a small piece of it came off. He then threw it at the small camera in the corner of the room. Even at the GWO facilities, he had some sort of human contact.

"Hush now, please." The first guard gently took her arms and began to slid them into the holes of the straitjacket. The other held the jacket up to Eric. "Are you going to come quietly, now?"

Get a hold of yourself! She knew that now was not the time to be falling apart; she needed to have her wits about her for this. Her full and clear mind would be necessary for a proper escape down the line. And there was still that doctor, who had acted insane and lied about her file in an attempt to drug her. She was quite sure that she would have problems with him in the future. As they slipped the jacket onto her, she silently wished she had taken a moment to adjust her gown once again before the jacket came on; she knew it could catch.

Whatever, she thought, resigning herself as she felt the jacket pull up around her, modesty is not paramount right now; survival is. She had already compromised her dignity to an extent through her own actions today, acting like a common whore in order to sway the guards. Perhaps she would have to compromise much of what she was in this place. Perhaps she would have to become someone totally different in order to survive, in order to escape.

Perhaps she would have to compromise her identity to save her life and sanity.

OOC: I'll consider that Maria is under complete sensory deprivation...

Isabel checked if nobody was nearby, and then looked at the completely immobile and isolated from reality Maria, which had earmuffs and a tight blindfold, she then said, smiling:

"I am here Maria, but I doubt you are aware of it, so let me share you a secret..."

At the same time, what Maria felt couldn't be described by words... it was pure nothingness, she couldn't feel her body, her breathing... nothing. It was like she was a conscious mind in the middle of a void, "Time... what time?", her confused mind thought as she remembered all that happened... "Revenge, I will kill you Isabel! You shall pay!"... but her mind was losing the grip of the past... she had no idea whether it was a few minutes, hours, weeks or even months that has passed since she was brought there, she had no idea if she was just dead and all the oblivion around her was the afterlife"

Back to reality, Isabel continued, she seemed amused as she said:

"...my name is not Isabel, that is a forged identity, my 'rebirth' name is different and I neither belong to a militia. You are here as a part of a Black Project: the Prometheus Psycher Project. I belong to a cell of a secret society, the Invisible Legion: I cannot risk saying more on the chance a bystander might listen. in about two weeks time will start to run faster... a day will be an hour to your mind and after six months... time won't exist anymore in your perception... then you'll be in a state of consciousness very few have reached and after 6 months you'll start to, that is a surprise! Also I insulted you on purpose to make you look like insane, but that doesn't matter anymore"

Isabel then touched Maria's completely strapped left arm: "Farewell Maria, and after you leave, don't kill innocents or you'll be back again for more... for now hold tight, and be strong of mind and will... some of the people who were left at deprivation for so much time came back completely insane. Neither I nor you would want that"

Isolated from all senses, and extremely exhausted, Maria felt asleep...

"Isabel" then left with her "friends", they hopped in the Van and moved out of the "Happy House"... nearby they went to the harbor, where they left the Van, then, when it was almost night already they traveled through nearby woods until reaching a clearing where there was a flag-less black helicopter with some people waiting for them.

"Let's head out!", Isabel said as they hopped in the helicopter and it started to flight:

"Don't forget to pass over the happy house...", Isabel smirked, "Because only loonies and conspiracy theorists believe in this stuff"

Their black helicopter flew over the sanitarium and left...

OOC: Is commonly assumed 1 NS year = 1 Real Life year in RPs or is there a different time relation?

Get a hold of yourself! She knew that now was not the time to be falling apart; she needed to have her wits about her for this. Her full and clear mind would be necessary for a proper escape down the line. And there was still that doctor, who had acted insane and lied about her file in an attempt to drug her. She was quite sure that she would have problems with him in the future. As they slipped the jacket onto her, she silently wished she had taken a moment to adjust her gown once again before the jacket came on; she knew it could catch.

Whatever, she thought, resigning herself as she felt the jacket pull up around her, modesty is not paramount right now; survival is. She had already compromised her dignity to an extent through her own actions today, acting like a common whore in order to sway the guards. Perhaps she would have to compromise much of what she was in this place. Perhaps she would have to become someone totally different in order to survive, in order to escape.

Perhaps she would have to compromise her identity to save her life and sanity.
The guard nodded as he drew the jacket up around her, pinning her arms to her side. An utterly humiliating posture, arms bound and unmovable, little paper robe drawn up around your waist in the back. "There you go, there's a good girl." Behind him the other guard had already jacketed the unconcious Foxfire. He was lying on the floor, blissfully unaware of the events taking place around him. They both turned their attention to Eric.
OOC@Third Spanish States: I'm not entirely sure how time goes, but NS time is much faster than real time. I believe a year is equivilent to a month.

The guard nodded as he drew the jacket up around her, pinning her arms to her side. An utterly humiliating posture, arms bound and unmovable, little paper robe drawn up around your waist in the back. "There you go, there's a good girl." Behind him the other guard had already jacketed the unconcious Foxfire. He was lying on the floor, blissfully unaware of the events taking place around him. They both turned their attention to Eric.
OOC@Third Spanish States: I'm not entirely sure how time goes, but NS time is much faster than real time. I believe a year is equivilent to a month.

“There’s no need to patronize me,” she let slip out, admittedly not very loudly. Such slips could be very destructive, and she couldn’t let herself keep that up. There was another thing that she could let herself keep up, however—she felt with her left hand, and soon with her right as she contorted it slightly, that she may be able to pick her way out of the jacket. No need to waste this knowledge, she thought hurriedly, adjusting her hands back, as it may be helpful later if I don’t get caught.

OOC: Generally we use flexi-time, meaning it moves forward as the RP necessitates. One could spend weeks on a single day or have years pass in an hour, it all depends on what the RP requires.

Dr. Bryce Colbourne walked away from the scene, picking up his stethoscope and folder on the floor. As he straightened back up, he saw Kate coming his way.

"Bryce!" She called out, and then noticed his battered face. Her expression turned to worry. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said dismissively, walking towards her.

Kate looked past him and saw the guards fitting straitjackets on some patients. "Them?"

"They were out of their rooms, one wore a doctor's coat, probably stole it, and was carrying a mop. The guy was very belligerent. Needless to say, I took two."

Kate resisted the urge to hug Bryce, especially in front of patients. Plus, she doubted that he would appreciate it. "But you won?"

"Nah," he said, chuckling, "The guards arrived... thankfully. And I'm putting those patients on sedatives, especially the guy. Not only crazy, he's angry too..."

"I'll handle him."

"No. I will," he said. "He's got fighting skills."

"And you think the black-belter can't handle that," Kate replied, rolling her eyes. She had a black belt in karate and also took aikido and capoeira classes. "I'll take them both."

"That just made me feel like a weakling," Bryce half-joked, and then changed the topic. "Listen, can you handle this patient first?" He handed her the folder containing the file of the patient at Room 4 Bed 2. "I think I need to fix myself first."

"Yeah, sure," she said as she took the folder.

"Thanks," Bryce gave her a good pat at the back as he left.

Kate read the file, and then entered the room.

"Mr. Anderson?"

Dr. Bryce Colbourne walked away from the scene, picking up his stethoscope and folder on the floor. As he straightened back up, he saw Kate coming his way.

"Bryce!" She called out, and then noticed his battered face. Her expression turned to worry. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said dismissively, walking towards her.

Kate looked past him and saw the guards fitting straitjackets on some patients. "Them?"

"They were out of their rooms, one wore a doctor's coat, probably stole it, and was carrying a mop. The guy was very belligerent. Needless to say, I took two."

Kate resisted the urge to hug Bryce, especially in front of patients. Plus, she doubted that he would appreciate it. "But you won?"

"Nah," he said, chuckling, "The guards arrived... thankfully. And I'm putting those patients on sedatives, especially the guy. Not only crazy, he's angry too..."

"I'll handle him."

"No. I will," he said. "He's got fighting skills."

"And you think the black-belter can't handle that," Kate replied, rolling her eyes. She had a black belt in karate and also took aikido and capoeira classes. "I'll take them both."

"That just made me feel like a weakling," Bryce half-joked, and then changed the topic. "Listen, can you handle this patient first?" He handed her the folder containing the file of the patient at Room 4 Bed 2. "I think I need to fix myself first."

"Yeah, sure," she said as she took the folder.

"Thanks," Bryce gave her a good pat at the back as he left.

Kate read the file, and then entered the room.

"Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes?"asked George who was slightly relived that she returned.

"Yes?"asked George who was slightly relived that he returned.
OOC: It's Kate... she took over from Bryce. ;)

"I'm Dr. Kate Valera," she introduced herself. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions, and then do a physical examination. Is that fine with you?"

OOC: It's Kate... she took over from Bryce. ;)

"I'm Dr. Kate Valera," she introduced herself. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions, and then do a physical examination. Is that fine with you?"

"Yes, what questions do you have for me?"asked George.

Doctor Wakesfield, who worked at the "Psycho" house, he walked by Geroge's cell.

"Yes, what questions do you have for me?"asked George.

Doctor Wakesfield, who worked at the "Psycho" house, he walked by Geroge's cell.
OOC: These are the pretty standard questions, so to make it faster, I'm going to ask all of them now, let's just assume they did it in a Q&A form...

"Your name please?"
"Age? Birthdate? Birthplace?"
"Place of Residence?"
"Religion?"
"Race?"
"Nationality/"
"Occupation?"
"Left-handed or right handed?"
"Do you have a spouse?"
"Do you have any children? If so, how many?"
"Are your parents still alive? If not, do you know the cause of their death?"
"Do you have siblings? How many?"

OOC: These are the pretty standard questions, so to make it faster, I'm going to ask all of them now, let's just assume they did it in a Q&A form...

"Your name please?"
"Age? Birthdate? Birthplace?"
"Place of Residence?"
"Religion?"
"Race?"
"Nationality/"
"Occupation?"
"Left-handed or right handed?"
"Do you have a spouse?"
"Do you have any children? If so, how many?"
"Are your parents still alive? If not, do you know the cause of their death?"
"Do you have siblings? How many?"

"George Anderson
31, July 19, 1977, Sasha, Greal
Franklin avenue, 341.
None
White
Greal
Manager at Look Inc.
right handed
yes
none
no, one died in a car acident, the other died while serving in Greal
Yes, only one."

"George Anderson
31, July 19, 1977, Sasha, Greal
Franklin avenue, 341.
None
White
Greal
Manager at Look Inc.
right handed
yes
none
no, one died in a car acident, the other died while serving in Greal
Yes, only one."
"Thank you for sharing the information," Kate smiled at him. "Can you tell me why you were sent here?"

"Thank you for sharing the information," Kate smiled at him. "Can you tell me why you were sent here?"

"They think I'm insane. They say I robbed the Greal National bank last year, but that wasn't me, that was my brother, my twin, but hes been dead for years.........."

"They think I'm insane. They say I robbed the Greal National bank last year, but that wasn't me, that was my brother, my twin, but hes been dead for years.........."
"So you say they thought you robbed the bank. You say it was your brother who robbed it. You also say that your brother is dead for years. So, how did your brother did it?"

"So you say they thought you robbed the bank. You say it was your brother who robbed it. You also say that your brother is dead for years. So, how did your brother did it?"

"You see? Thats exactly what they think, I'm not sure how my "dead" brother did it."said George who started to become frustrated

"Thank you for sharing the information," Kate smiled at him. "Can you tell me why you were sent here?"

"They think I'm insane. They say I robbed the Greal National bank last year, but that wasn't me, that was my brother, my twin, but hes been dead for years.........."

"So you say they thought you robbed the bank. You say it was your brother who robbed it. You also say that your brother is dead for years. So, how did your brother did it?"

"You see? Thats exactly what they think, I'm not sure how my "dead" brother did it."said George who started to become frustrated

As she was being readied by the guards, Jamie overheard the introduction of the new patient. This struck her as just the sort of thing that a real crazy person would say, or at least a terrible excuse made by a hapless criminal. Her recent such incarceration, however, as well as the rather trying personal introspection was starting to make her think twice about her former presumptions. She made a mental note to make contact with him later.

"You see? Thats exactly what they think, I'm not sure how my "dead" brother did it."said George who started to become frustrated
Kate detected some frustration in his tone. "Well, just curious," she said. "How long had your brother been dead?"

Kate detected some frustration in his tone. "Well, just curious," she said. "How long had your brother been dead?"

"1.2 years. He kinda hated me, I have no idea why. I was going to visit the grave to see if the cofin was weighted or something, but I got taken here."said George.

"1.2 years. He kinda hated me, I have no idea why. I was going to visit the grave to see if the cofin was weighted or something, but I got taken here."said George.
"1-2 years? Do you know what he died of?"

"1-2 years? Do you know what he died of?"

"He died of his wounds after a car acident. Maybe thats my triplet."said George who chuckled for a second then silence.

"He died of his wounds after a car acident. Maybe thats my triplet."said George who chuckled for a second then silence.
"So, let me make this clear," she began, "Your brother robbed a bank, they thought it was you, and then what happened next? Can you elaborate more for me what happened - from the day of the robbery until today?"

"So, let me make this clear," she began, "Your brother robbed a bank, they thought it was you, and then what happened next? Can you elaborate more for me what happened - from the day of the robbery until today?"

"I told them I was at home, and I was at home. Heres what happened. 5 men charge into the national Greal bank. They have assault rifles and some glocks I think. They get away with 50 million USD, which is a small record for Greal. The security cameras get only my twin on camera, the others were shooting the cameras. Anyway, the police department finds out its me that robbed the bank, later that night 50 polie officers charged in and arrested me. My wife was in Womer that day."

OOC: heres what the police officer said to George

It was my brother that did it!"yelled George

"But the police said that your face was caught on tape."said the police officer

"Not me! My twin!"yelled George

"Your brother has been dead for years."

"He is still alive!"

"Take him away, hes clearly suffering from his brother's death still."

"I told them I was at home, and I was at home. Heres what happened. 5 men charge into the national Greal bank. They have assault rifles and some glocks I think. They get away with 50 million USD, which is a small record for Greal. The security cameras get only my twin on camera, the others were shooting the cameras. Anyway, the police department finds out its me that robbed the bank, later that night 50 polie officers charged in and arrested me. My wife was in Womer that day."
Then how did he know there were five people and other stuff pertaining to the robbery? Kate thought, but she did not push it further. Clearly, it's either the patient was indeed suffering from a mental illness, or that it was purely an excuse. "How about the others? Were they arrested?"

Then how did he know there were five people and other stuff pertaining to the robbery? Kate thought, but she did not push it further. Clearly, it's either the patient was indeed suffering from a mental illness, or that it was purely an excuse. "How about the others? Were they arrested?"

"The other robbers? Some of them refused to surrender, so they were killed in a gun battle in Sasha. The others were also killed by the Greal police in gun battles. My twin disappeared "forever"."said George gloomy,

"The other robbers? Some of them refused to surrender, so they were killed in a gun battle in Sasha. The others were also killed by the Greal police in gun battles. My twin disappeared "forever"."said George gloomy,
The story was getting more and more confusing. Kate was now leaning more towards a mental illness... but it still doesn't rule out him being the perpetrator of the crime. "Let's fast forward a little bit. You were arrested, and I presume sentenced... so how did you come to a psychiatric institution like this?"

The story was getting more and more confusing. Kate was now leaning more towards a mental illness... but it still doesn't rule out him being the perpetrator of the crime. "Let's fast forward a little bit. You were arrested, and I presume sentenced... so how did you come to a psychiatric institution like this?"

OOC; Its getting confusing to me also.:D

IC:

"They think I'm still suffering from my brother's death."said George sadly.

IC:"They think I'm still suffering from my brother's death."said George sadly.
Depression... nervous breakdown? Kate thought. "So it's in no way related to what was thought to be your crime? How did your wife react?"

Depression... nervous breakdown? Kate thought. "So it's in no way related to what was thought to be your crime? How did your wife react?"

George became more and more sad
"While I was in jail, awaiting trial, my wife was found ..........dead at my house. She....was....murdered while I was in jail."

George became more and more sad
"While I was in jail, awaiting trial, my wife was found ..........dead at my house. She....was....murdered while I was in jail."
Yep, it's nervous breakdown. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said sympathetically. "So you were put in jail... how did you end up in a psychiatric institution?"

Yep, it's nervous breakdown. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said sympathetically. "So you were put in jail... how did you end up in a psychiatric institution?"

"Do you think I know? I have some enemies in the Greal Government."said George who now sounded annoyed.

"Do you think I know? I have some enemies in the Greal Government."said George who now sounded annoyed.
"Can you elaborate more on that?"

"Can you elaborate more on that?"

"I.....was a ex-rebel that fought for Greal's freedom from Dictatorship. Our army lost and we all surrendered to the Dictatorship armies a few years ago. They released me, for unknown reasons, and kept tabs on me ever since. I couldn't leave the country at all."

"I.....was a ex-rebel that fought for Greal's freedom from Dictatorship. Our army lost and we all surrendered to the Dictatorship armies a few years ago. They released me, for unknown reasons, and kept tabs on me ever since. I couldn't leave the country at all."
The complicated story got even more complicated. Kate decided to shift into the medical, not into the confusing story. She'd check out on the patient's history later in the file. Those are probably more reliable than the patient's story. But for now...

"Well, you're not in Greal now," she said reassuringly, as if the madhouse in the middle of the woods was any better than his home country. "Do you feel anything now?" She said as she took out her medical stuff.

OOC: Any disease you'd want me to find in him? And what would I expect to find in his file later?

The complicated story got even more complicated. Kate decided to shift into the medical, not into the confusing story. She'd check out on the patient's history later in the file. Those are probably more reliable than the patient's story. But for now...

"Well, you're not in Greal now," she said reassuringly, as if the madhouse in the middle of the woods was any better than his home country. "Do you feel anything now?" She said as she took out her medical stuff.

OOC: Any disease you'd want me to find in him? And what would I expect to find in his file later?

OOC:

His 2 sisters had died in the past when he was 20. He did not mention that :D

IC:

"Nothing really, kinda relieved to be free from Greal."

OOC:His 2 sisters had died in the past when he was 20. He did not mention that :D

IC:"Nothing really, kinda relieved to be free from Greal."
She smiled. "How about physically? Anything painful? Got any complaints?" She said as she started with an examination of the head and heck, feeling for lumps, masses, looking for scars.

She smiled. "How about physically? Anything painful? Got any complaints?" She said as she started with an examination of the head and heck, feeling for lumps, masses, looking for scars.

"My back keeps hurting, thats about it."

"My back keeps hurting, thats about it."
"We'll look in that." Nope, no masses, no cervical lympadenopathy, no neck vein engorgement... Kate looked into his blue eyes. Anicteric sclerae, no Kayser-Fleischer ring. "Look up." She then pulled down the lower lid. Pink conjunctivae. She took out the penlight and focused it on each of his eye, one after another. Pupils reactive to light, direct and consensual reflexes intact...

She did a thorough physical examination, listening to his chest, looking into his mouth, pricking him lightly with a pin, palpating his abdomen, making him say syllables, weird facial expressions and even weirder actions, tapping him with the neurohammer, testing his strength, examining his genitalia, inserting a finger into his anus... None, she found nothing pathologic. Essentially normal. "Why, you're very much healthy physically." She hoped he did not misconstrue that statement. There was the qualifier physically. There was still a mental examination to follow. "Does your back hurt now?"

OOC: Gotta go, needed somewhere. ;)

"We'll look in that." Nope, no masses, no cervical lympadenopathy, no neck vein engorgement... Kate looked into his blue eyes. Anicteric sclerae, no Kayser-Fleischer ring. "Look up." She then pulled down the lower lid. Pink conjunctivae. She took out the penlight and focused it on each of his eye, one after another. Pupils reactive to light, direct and consensual reflexes intact...

She did a thorough physical examination, listening to his chest, looking into his mouth, pricking him lightly with a pin, palpating his abdomen, making him say syllables, weird facial expressions and even weirder actions, tapping him with the neurohammer, testing his strength, examining his genitalia, inserting a finger into his anus... None, she found nothing pathologic. Essentially normal. "Why, you're very much healthy physically." She hoped he did not misconstrue that statement. There was the qualifier physically. There was still a mental examination to follow. "Does your back hurt now?"

OOC: Gotta go, needed somewhere. ;)

"Still does, slightly."said George, he really wanted to get out of this room and track dwon his brother, and kill him........

"Still does, slightly."said George, he really wanted to get out of this room and track dwon his brother, and kill him........
"Well, if this bothers you some more, just tell me or some of the staff and we'll look into it," Kate told him, and then proceeded to give him a mini-mental status exam.

OOC. Would you want him to be amnesiac, or with some other mental disease? Or is he essentially normal?

OOC: He has Dissociative Identity Disorder, aka Multiple Personality Disorder. His personalities know nothing of the other's existence but they have been given different names to distinguish themselves. If there is already a patient with DID then I can switch the illness.

IC:

It was Sunday morning. Again Jak became Bob and it was a new day. Every Sunday for the whole life of this individual known as Jak-Bob Munuson the identity was switched to the other identity. This week he was Bob. As far as Bob knew there were 26 weeks in a year which made him 24 years-old. He was 24 only he only knew half of it. The other half was in the mind of Jak who was the one who was actually crazy.

Jak-Bob couldn't co-exist in normal society as Bob was good enough at poker to be a professional and Jak was good enough at baseball to be professional. It was kind of obvious why niether could do their best profession. It was physically impossible for them to keep a job from one week to the next unless they could communicate which was physically impossible. They were instead chucked into this 'Half-Way House' by the Uir government as they were a rare case.

Bob was a happy-go-lucky guy who lived from one day to the next. Useful in his situation. He could conceal his emotions well and that allowed him to be given a larger margin of freedom then his 'twin' Jak. Bob didn't know that Jak was a part of him and thought that he was his twin brother who never came out of the cellar until he was around the age of 15. He had been told that Jak was part of him. Bob obviouslhy couldn't believe this.

Jak was a skilled athlete who was always 'scheming'. He kept to himself and was always muttering. Quite unlike extraverted Bob. Jak could never conceal his emotions, again, unlike Bob. While Jak could hide what he was thinking there was no possible way that Bob could do the same. While they both shared a birth certificate which read 'David Gari Munuson' their name had been legally changed to Jak-Bob when they were five. Jak had held the same mis-conceptions about Bob as Bob had held about him until they were both 15.

Now here Bob was, being taken out of the white van by two men in white clothing. He wasn't dangerous and so they needed minimal protection the reason he was there was to separate him and his counter-part from mainstream society. The guards went into the white, softly coloured building with bob infront to make sure that he didn't try anything dangerous. Bob acted happy to be there.

"Well, if this bothers you some more, just tell me or some of the staff and we'll look into it," Kate told him, and then proceeded to give him a mini-mental status exam.

OOC. Would you want him to be amnesiac, or with some other mental disease? Or is he essentially normal?

OOC: he is normal, but he is suffering from somethings.......

IC:

"Thanks Doc."said George

OOC: He has Dissociative Identity Disorder, aka Multiple Personality Disorder. His personalities know nothing of the other's existence but they have been given different names to distinguish themselves. If there is already a patient with DID then I can switch the illness.

IC:

It was Sunday morning. Again Jak became Bob and it was a new day. Every Sunday for the whole life of this individual known as Jak-Bob Munuson the identity was switched to the other identity. This week he was Bob. As far as Bob knew there were 26 weeks in a year which made him 24 years-old. He was 24 only he only knew half of it. The other half was in the mind of Jak who was the one who was actually crazy.

Jak-Bob couldn't co-exist in normal society as Bob was good enough at poker to be a professional and Jak was good enough at baseball to be professional. It was kind of obvious why niether could do their best profession. It was physically impossible for them to keep a job from one week to the next unless they could communicate which was physically impossible. They were instead chucked into this 'Half-Way House' by the Uir government as they were a rare case.

Bob was a happy-go-lucky guy who lived from one day to the next. Useful in his situation. He could conceal his emotions well and that allowed him to be given a larger margin of freedom then his 'twin' Jak. Bob didn't know that Jak was a part of him and thought that he was his twin brother who never came out of the cellar until he was around the age of 15. He had been told that Jak was part of him. Bob obviouslhy couldn't believe this.

Jak was a skilled athlete who was always 'scheming'. He kept to himself and was always muttering. Quite unlike extraverted Bob. Jak could never conceal his emotions, again, unlike Bob. While Jak could hide what he was thinking there was no possible way that Bob could do the same. While they both shared a birth certificate which read 'David Gari Munuson' their name had been legally changed to Jak-Bob when they were five. Jak had held the same mis-conceptions about Bob as Bob had held about him until they were both 15.

Now here Bob was, being taken out of the white van by two men in white clothing. He wasn't dangerous and so they needed minimal protection the reason he was there was to separate him and his counter-part from mainstream society. The guards went into the white, softly coloured building with bob infront to make sure that he didn't try anything dangerous. Bob acted happy to be there.
The receptionist once again looked up from her "work." "Name of patient, condition, and files please." she said smartly.

The receptionist once again looked up from her "work." "Name of patient, condition, and files please." she said smartly.

"Well, his name is Bob Munuson, but next Sunday he'll be Jak. It alternates every week. He has Dissociative Identity Disorder, and here are his files. He's on anti-depressants and an aspirin if he complains about any body pains should do the trick. He's not too dangerous, just can't live in normal society."

OOC: Assuming already escorted back to room

Waiting back in her room, Jamie thought about what had happened so far; she had hardly even been checked in, and already she had been part of a botched escape attempt, been accessory to an assault on a doctor, and been dragged back to her cell in a straight jacket. She thought about her bad first impression on that doctor, about how that might come back to haunt her. Perhaps that could be fixed; if they didn’t lock that Deatharoni up tight for good, maybe there could be another escape attempt, this one not cut off prematurely. Hell, all this has happened and I haven’t even had my standard physical yet. Oh, she had completely forgotten about that. They would probably get her for that soon.

OOC: Uiri, your sig is quite long, as the mods usually like to limit it to eight lines.

IC: "Thanks Doc."said George
After the other barrage of tests, Kate came up with her diagnosis. "I believe you need to stay here for a while," she said, trying her best to make it sound like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. "But don't worry, we'll take care of you." She then gathered her things and started to leave.

[SIZE="1"]Waiting back in her room, Jamie thought about what had happened so far; she had hardly even been checked in, and already she had been part of a botched escape attempt, been accessory to an assault on a doctor, and been dragged back to her cell in a straight jacket. She thought about her bad first impression on that doctor, about how that might come back to haunt her. Perhaps that could be fixed; if they didn’t lock that Deatharoni up tight for good, maybe there could be another escape attempt, this one not cut off prematurely. Hell, all this has happened and I haven’t even had my standard physical yet. Oh, she had completely forgotten about that. They would probably get her for that soon.
After a few moments, Dr. Colbourne entered Jamie's room. He closed the door tightly, put down some of his stuff on the table near the door, and looked at her. "So, how are you?" Bryce asked her.

After a few moments, Dr. Colbourne entered Jamie's room. He closed the door tightly, put down some of his stuff on the table near the door, and looked at her. "So, how are you?" Bryce asked her.

What convenient timing.

“I’ve been better,” she said, scooting to face him, “My arms are a bit cramped, and my dignity’s taking a beating, sort of goes with the wardrobe, but other than that I’m fine. How are you?” She was careful to be polite, nearly cute, though she was still somewhat suspicious of this doctor.

What convenient timing.

“I’ve been better,” she said, scooting to face him, “My arms are a bit cramped, and my dignity’s taking a beating, sort of goes with the wardrobe, but other than that I’m fine. How are you?” She was careful to be polite, nearly cute, though she was still somewhat suspicious of this doctor.
"I would've expected a standard answer there," Bryce said with a chuckle, looking at her in the straitjacket. "But, yes, I see why." He reached for the folder on the table and opened it. "Let's see... Ms. Jamie Carlson..." Bryce dragged a chair towards him and sat beside her bed. "I'm going to ask you some questions, then afterwards we'll do a physical examination."

"Let's begin."

OOC: Just like with Greal, I'm going to throw all of the questions at once. We'll just assume it's in a Q&A form.

"Your name please?"
"Age? Birthdate? Birthplace?"
"Place of Residence?"
"Religion?"
"Race?"
"Nationality/"
"Occupation?"
"Left-handed or right handed?"
"Do you have a spouse?"
"Do you have any children? If so, how many?"
"Are your parents still alive? If not, do you know the cause of their death?"
"Do you have siblings? How many?"

"I would've expected a standard answer there," Bryce said with a chuckle, looking at her in the straitjacket. "But, yes, I see why." He reached for the folder on the table and opened it. "Let's see... Ms. Jamie Carlson..." Bryce dragged a chair towards him and sat beside her bed. "I'm going to ask you some questions, then afterwards we'll do a physical examination."

"Let's begin."

OOC: Just like with Greal, I'm going to throw all of the questions at once. We'll just assume it's in a Q&A form.

"Your name please?"
"Age? Birthdate? Birthplace?"
"Place of Residence?"
"Religion?"
"Race?"
"Nationality/"
"Occupation?"
"Left-handed or right handed?"
"Do you have a spouse?"
"Do you have any children? If so, how many?"
"Are your parents still alive? If not, do you know the cause of their death?"
"Do you have siblings? How many?"

"Your name please?" Ms. Jamie Sheila Carlson
"Age? Birthdate? Birthplace?" 18, Jan. 9th, Errikland
"Place of Residence?" Errikan Africa
"Religion?" Errikan Christian
"Race?" Errikan (white)
"Nationality/" Errikan
"Occupation?" Unemployed
"Left-handed or right handed?" Ambidextrous
"Do you have a spouse?" No
"Do you have any children? If so, how many?" No
"Are your parents still alive? If not, do you know the cause of their death?" No, Yes
"Do you have siblings? How many?" Yes, one (twin brother)

“You’ll be doing the physical? Hey, don’t they normally have doctors or nurses of the same sex as the patient do that?” she asked after rather hurriedly answering the questions.

After the other barrage of tests, Kate came up with her diagnosis. "I believe you need to stay here for a while," she said, trying her best to make it sound like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. "But don't worry, we'll take care of you." She then gathered her things and started to leave.




"What? Why?"asked Geogre, he wasn't crazy in his opinion.

"Well, his name is Bob Munuson, but next Sunday he'll be Jak. It alternates every week. He has Dissociative Identity Disorder, and here are his files. He's on anti-depressants and an aspirin if he complains about any body pains should do the trick. He's not too dangerous, just can't live in normal society."
The receptionist nodded. "We'll keep him safe and sound here." she smiled prettily. At her words two guards appeared. One took Bob-Jak, now Bob, by the hand. "Let's go little buddy." He was to go in same room Jamie and Eric were in at the moment. Down the hall one of the guards wheeled a prone body into the room. "'scuse me, folks," he said as he lifted Foxfire's unconcious body past them and heaved him up onto a bunk. "You'll be getting another patient in here soon. He's coming down with the files." he told Bryce. Then he left, shutting the door behind him.

Bob, followed by one of the Uir guards entered the room, "Hello, sorry to intrude on anything, has anyone seen Jak?" The guard gave the file to Bryce and whispered, "He's got MPD"

"What? Why?"asked Geogre, he wasn't crazy in his opinion.
"You'll be fine here," Kate told him. "Just follow everything we say, I and the staff here are going to work hard to treat you, okay?" She then finished packing up her stuff. "See you later," she then left the room, closing the door behind her and locking it.

“You’ll be doing the physical? Hey, don’t they normally have doctors or nurses of the same sex as the patient do that?” she asked after rather hurriedly answering the questions.
Bryce gave out a weak sigh. "You can't be a chooser here, Ms. Carlson. It's not required for the patient and the doctor to be of the same sex..." He leaned closer to her, bringing his face to a few inches from her face. "I know you don't like me," he whispered to her in a rather sinister tone, "but I'm your attending physician and you can't do anything about that, can you? So, it's either you like me, or you like me very much," Bryce straightened up and gave her a fake smile. "If it's any consolation, I am trying to like you also."

The door opened and Kate peeked in. "Dr. Colbourne, I'm done with Room 4 Bed 2."

"Dr. Valera, I need you to stay here for a while," Bryce said, not taking his eyes off Jamie. "Our patient would like to be examined by a doctor of the same sex."

Kate entered the room and closed the door. "I can just stay here," she said to Bryce. "You're her attending [physician]."

"You hear that? Dr. Valera would be here to supervise and observe while I am doing the examination to ensure nothing untoward is going to happen," Bryce told Jamie. "Is that fine with you?"

[snip]
Bryce gave out a weak sigh. "You can't be a chooser here, Ms. Carlson. It's not required for the patient and the doctor to be of the same sex..." He leaned closer to her, bringing his face to a few inches from her face. "I know you don't like me," he whispered to her in a rather sinister tone, "but I'm your attending physician and you can't do anything about that, can you? So, it's either you like me, or you like me very much," Bryce straightened up and gave her a fake smile. "If it's any consolation, I am trying to like you also."

The door opened and Kate peeked in. "Dr. Colbourne, I'm done with Room 4 Bed 2."

"Dr. Valera, I need you to stay here for a while," Bryce said, not taking his eyes off Jamie. "Our patient would like to be examined by a doctor of the same sex."

Kate entered the room and closed the door. "I can just stay here," she said to Bryce. "You're her attending [physician]."

"You hear that? Dr. Valera would be here to supervise and observe while I am doing the examination to ensure nothing untoward is going to happen," Bryce told Jamie. "Is that fine with you?"

Most taken aback by the doctor’s somewhat less than veiled threats, Jamie was not quite sure how to respond; she sat, aghast, as he rose and called another physician. She was indeed in a predicament; she had originally thought him to be odd, perhaps corrupt. Willing to lie to drug her in order to save face, but not absolutely amoral. However, this new presentation of malice was downright scary, and led her to fear for her life far more actively than she ever thought she would have to.

“What?” she stammered when he asked her the question, “Oh, no, oh . . . Doctor. That is not . . . that was not what I was . . . nevermind, nevermind doctor.” Her previous concern was no longer forefront in her mind, her own modesty taking the backseat to not pissing the maniac off.

She gathered herself for a moment, taking a deep, if discreet, breath.

“I am fine; please proceed.”

“What?” she stammered when he asked her the question, “Oh, no, oh . . . Doctor. That is not . . . that was not what I was . . . nevermind, nevermind doctor.” Her previous concern was no longer forefront in her mind, her own modesty taking the backseat to not pissing the maniac off.

She gathered herself for a moment, taking a deep, if discreet, breath.

“I am fine; please proceed.”
Bryce started first with the crotch strap and the friction buckles, undoing them all with intricate care. He then reached around her and gingerly untied the knot behind her back, and then unthreaded the sleeve-end from the side loops, freeing the sleeves and her arm.

"There, I hope that is much better," Bryce remarked as he gestured for her to remove the tight restraining garment. "Do you have any physical complaints right now? Anything painful, numb, or something?"

OOC: Does she have any physical illnesses?

Bryce started first with the crotch strap and the friction buckles, undoing them all with intricate care. He then reached around her and gingerly untied the knot behind her back, and then unthreaded the sleeve-end from the side loops, freeing the sleeves and her arm.

"There, I hope that is much better," Bryce remarked as he gestured for her to remove the tight restraining garment. "Do you have any physical complaints right now? Anything painful, numb, or something?"

OOC: Does she have any physical illnesses?

“Thank you,” she said, honestly relieved, “No, no, I am fine. Now.” She stretched and halfheartedly giggled at the last sentence; maybe it would be better to relax, to relax him as well. Better to like him than to like him very much. Or at least better to act like it.

OOC: She does not, though she recently had a cold

Michael was still in the Isolation Room, trying to think of how to get attention so that he could try to escape the Room. Then it came to him, and he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before.

He stood up and walked to the security camera in the room. He jumped to reach it, and he took a hold of it's "stem", snapping it off of the ceiling. The wires were still attached, and he pointed it at himself before dropping it on the floor. Then he waited for someone to enter the room.

It wasn't long. Two guard armed with tazers and stun batons entered the room. The first spoke to Michael in an almost parent-talking-to-child voice: "Now now, no pulling the security camera out of the wall. That's very bad. Now we have to get a new one. Will you behave?" the man held out his activated stun baton menacingly, the tip crackling with dark blue energy.

“Thank you,” she said, honestly relieved, “No, no, I am fine. Now.” She stretched and halfheartedly giggled at the last sentence; maybe it would be better to relax, to relax him as well. Better to like him than to like him very much. Or at least better to act like it.
Bryce started to examine her head and neck, lightly pressing repeatedly on her soft skin as he ran his fingers along the side of her neck, to the back of her ears, to her scalp, and to her temples. He observed her face for twitches or winces that may indicate pain. Good, no cervical lymphadenopathy, no masses.

He looked into her eyes. Anicteric sclerae. No Kayser-Fleischer ring. "Look up," he instructed her as he pulled her lowed lid down. Pink conjunctivae. He made her look up, down, left and right. Extraocular muscles intact. He made some maneuvers, flashing a penlight on her eyes. Pupils reactive to light, about 3mm in diameter. Direct and consensual light reflexes intact. He then covered one of her eyes and made her read a Jaeger chart. He then tested her peripheral vision by making her identify how many fingers he was holding up, like a child's game. This was done again on the other side, with him smiling every time she got it right. Essentially normal vision. He then took a ophthalmoscope, and then moved to her side as she was instructed to maintain a straight forward gaze. Bryce looked into her eye with the instrument, moving slowly closer until they were close together and could feel the other's soft breath on their faces. It was done again, this time on the other eye.

A barrage of tests followed, testing her hearing, smell, taste, and cranial nerves. All normal. Next was the chest and abdomen exam. "Uh, I'm going to listen and look to your chest and abdomen," Bryce began, gesturing politely to her that she needed to take off her gown. He started to feel some sort of uneasiness, which he didn't feel with the countless other female patients he had examined. He was always gruff with all of them. He wondered why he felt... so different with this one, and why now? Never mind that she doesn't like him, or that he doesn't like her. There was a powerful protective instinct welling up that he struggled to tamp down. "You take off your gown now," Bryce said rather brusquely, which surprised even himself. Perhaps he had struggled too hard...

"You'll be fine here," Kate told him. "Just follow everything we say, I and the staff here are going to work hard to treat you, okay?" She then finished packing up her stuff. "See you later," she then left the room, closing the door behind her and locking it.




George was very mad, he had no convinced another person that he was crazy, which he was not, he had to get out of there.

It wasn't long. Two guard armed with tazers and stun batons entered the room. The first spoke to Michael in an almost parent-talking-to-child voice: "Now now, no pulling the security camera out of the wall. That's very bad. Now we have to get a new one. Will you behave?" the man held out his activated stun baton menacingly, the tip crackling with dark blue energy.

Michael was amused, it always made him happy when he pissed off the security teams. He quickly darted for the guard closest to him's tazer, much like he had done with the MI-P57 of a GWO Scientist years ago, while two Marines watched.

(OOC: This write-up is inspired by this game I've played some time ago (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanitarium_%28game%29), 2001: A Space Odyssey WTF scene and from other sources, and I'll open the hook for a plot continuation as well, I can wait for a few more weeks to make it realistically look like a whole year has passed)

Unknown date

"Wake up! Hey girlie, wake up!", a frighteningly scratchy voice announced in the middle of the sounds of flames and of baffled children singing nursery rhymes, with the smell of charred meat and something else completely alien being felt.
"Wake up! Hey girlie, wake up!", it repeated in an annoying pace
"Wake up! Hey girlie, wake up!", this time it seemed like a chorus rather than a single voice, it started to become louder
"WAKE UP!", the chorus of horrible voices reverberated.

Maria had no notion of time, and immediately opened her eyelids and backed off quickly: she wasn't strapped at all, as she noticed the abominable creatures surrounding her in a field of blood-colored grass she started to panic. Those things, they were horrendous beyond description: completely deformed humanoid masses of flesh marked by bullet wounds and burning nonstop. Some of them had several heads, eyes and limbs. Maria was almost losing her mind as they approached her, one of those things, she recognized the one of the deformed heads on it, it was the head of the children she killed during her getaway attempt, in fact, those other heads also seemed strangely familiar to her but she could not remember from where. The aberration which body carried the head of the boy she killed come even closer than the others. Then that so familiar head simply extended towards her as its neck stretched almost half a meter, it stared at her with pupil-less red eyes as she was about to pass out, it whispered in shrieked raspy voices "murderer... good morning" and backed off again.

Then she simply stared at the sky, or whatever that thing was... there was what seemed to be a giantic orb of mutating and shifting flesh above her and surrounding all those bizarre lands, with a large mouth constantly opening and closing its huge jaws on its center, she couldn't figure at all what was that and where it came from... but those things seemed to be sentient and apparently were not going to kill her. Strange was also her clothing: she was dressed in an entirely black silk vest, with black silk gloves and boots, like some type of assassin from ancient times. She finally regained her courage as she got up in the middle of those surrounding creatures and then, she opened her mouth as she took further courage to ask, ignoring the horrible smell everywhere, in a frightened tone of voice:

"Wh... where am I? What are you?", she seemed incapable of asserting logically what she was seeing.

One of the creatures ran straight towards her in an aggressive speed. She immediately tried to counter her fear and took a defensive stance, when the creature came very close to her it stopped and laughed in an annoyingly scratching voice which tortured her ears. It then said:
"The question... is not where you... are. The question is... where you belong... to. And the second... question... is what are... you?", the abomination said, she recognized one of its heads was the head of a man she killed during her getaway.

"What? I am an human being and I belong to Third Spanish States! Now what are you and where am I?", she said in an hostile tone, now seemingly unafraid of them.
Another horrible laughter was done before it replied "Foolish mind! You... think you are... what others tell... you what you are... not what you truly are... you think you belong to... where your flesh came... not where your self came from... I can help you... discover"

Maria wasn't sure on how to answer it, as a secular satanist it didn't take her much to come with an answer: "I came from nowhere! Before I was born I didn't even exist and after I die I won't exist anymore!"
The creature didn't laugh again, instead it immediately answered her claims with a tone that resembled sarcasm: "All this you are... seeing... is definitively made of substance... my mere existence... this realm... challenges no laws... of physics".

Maria made a scowl as she tried to explain with her limited knowledge: "I am becoming insane due to lack of perception of the real world and now my mind is creating a twisted freak show with all my inner Jungian shadows! You do not exist! I command you to oblivion!", she shouted.
A chorus of very annoying laughters echoed as Maria tried to cover her ears and fell on the red grassland. The laughters stopped and she again got up. The creature nearest to her then said:

"If we were truly... non-sentient fabrications of your... mind, you are strong-willed enough... to make our existence cease... and we would not exist anymore... the world of flesh is... only one of many"
Maria felt herself emotionally crippled, she was in a self-created world by her mind, or at least thought so, talking with freak humanoid abominations which were laughing at her helplessness. She simply stared at the eyes of one of the heads of the creature and answered, knowing she got nothing to lose:

"Then, you said you can help me to discover where I came from and what I am, so as long as the answer to the second isn't 'murderer', I would like to hear something on it"
The thing then replied "You shall know... by answering these... questions. First... why do you want... to live? What motivates... your life?"

Maria knew it was not the time to lie, she then said: "For myself, to maximize my own pleasure and happiness. I am an hedonist"
One of the creature heads nodded as it continued: "Second... what does make you... happy?"
She then answered: "Pleasure, being safe, being close to my love Pablo, having control over others and... no... not it...", she was reluctant to finish it.
"Are you afraid... of the truth about yourself? Weren't you... interested to know it?", the thing asked
"...killing or making others suffer... makes me happy", she finally admitted, with a mix of shame and self-pity. The creature then continued:
"Good... now... do you like rules... regulations... social norms?"
Maria shook her head: "I do what I want... 'Do what thou wilt' is my only 'rule'"
It then added a final question: "Therefore... an hypothetical issue... should you have the choice... between two worlds... one... a perfect manifestation of... orderliness... where dissent meets death. The other... a perfect manifestation of... chaos... where everything changes... every second... which would you choose?"
Maria shrugged "Lesser of two evils? I guess... I choose the perfect manifestation of orderliness as long as I am the ruler of that world"
The creature shook both heads "No... in this supposition... in neither of the worlds... you are the ruler... closest thing to... world of chaos... is this you see... right now"
Maria thought for a while, then answered doubtfully: "I prefer this stinking chaotic freak show over being a slave for a tyrant with every conduct predetermined by laws"
The thing simply nodded with both heads: "Now... simply ask again those... questions... but first...". A mirror spawned at one of the working hands of the creature and it handed it to Maria. "The reflection of... your true self... is more clear in this... realm. Look... and then we and I shall answer... your doubts"

Maria reluctantly took the mirror from the aberration burning hand, she then moved it to her face and moved it to reflect her face.
When the mirror reached at her face, she had another crisis of panic from seeing her own twisted reflection. Her eyes were entirely white and without iris or pupils, her skin was in a pale cadaveric tone, and randomly stretched around as if swirling like the massive mass of flesh above her head and a snake tongue was inside her mouth. She immediately dropped the mirror as she saw it, and as it fall on the red grasslands it broke, and each shard became a small flame until vanishing. A quick chorus of laughters came thereafter. Maria would probably get back to the real world completely insane at this rate.

"Afraid of accepting your true self?", the creature at her front asked.
"I still don't get it, that sight was... symbolic? I am a liar that's the reason of the snake tongue. And some say you lose a part of your life when you kill someone, is that it?", she asked with a scowl at her face.
"No, you are still clueless... let me answer you... straight", the thing said again.
"So shoot it! I'm starting to lose my patience you freak!", she seemed to be more angry.
"You... you are naturally... talented to... push your will towards... the world of flesh... in destructive manners... and you can... see through your will rather... than your eyes of flesh... time is only a line... fleshlings cannot walk or see... in most cases.", it said.
"So I am a paranormal type, and the snake tongue?"
"That is only a symbolic... as you thought... but not a symbol of your lies... the twisting flesh... symbolizes your... natural affinity with... entropy and chaos"
"What a bunch of new age mumbo-jumbo being said by a legion of freaks!", she said, and suddenly laughed, which was strange for the situation she was in.
"Mumbo-jumbo? Would a 'normal' person laugh... while witnessing and feeling... everything... you are currently witnessing?", it asked
"Umm... didn't you freaks heard about black humor?", she asked with a smirk
"We certainly did... but we never heard... of someone beggining... to feel at home here.", it asked as the horrible creature heads smiled.

Maria simply ignored it: "I don't like this place", and soon was replied by the thing: "You are being a poor liar now... admit this sight amazes you."
She insisted: "It definitively don't freaks!", and again was answered: "You would be completely insane by now, you don't even feel despair. Why do you insist on lying?"

Maria then shrugged and said: "All right! I like this place because it is... exotic and because it seems there is no limits to what I could do here... none at all. And you abominations forgot to answer me the second question."
The freak creatures laughed again "Welcome home!"
Maria simply frowned: "If this is my home I want you to... finish burning and stop bothering me with your annoying voices you freaks!"
"No... no....... don't", the chorus of the aberrations echoed.

"BURN! BURN FREAKS! Burn like the was no tomorrow and become ashes!", she shouted with a maniacal laughter as the creatures screamed and agony as their flesh became entirely charred. "Burn you damn Jungian Shadows!", she added as they felt to ground and soon their deformed bones also became only ashes. She then laughed "Affinity with Chaos? What a bunch of wash! I wonder where my subconscious gets this bull from... now time to find a way to get out of this freak place"

She then walked, stomping on the ashes and moved further and further only to see the same location over and over at her front and the same "sky" as before.
"What the hell?", she frowned as she looked at the mass of flesh high above her. "Come on! Take me out of here you freak mouth! I command you freak!", she said. "I command you to take me out of here freak thing!", she repeated.

Then suddenly she simply stared at the aberrant mouth above the sky and started to focus her mind on it. "Focus my will" was her thought, she then started to mentally will for the thing to take her out of there and suddenly the mouth drastically opened and started to wide above the sky, revealing an actual red sky above the mass of flesh, she then started to float and flew at a very fast speed, passing through the mass of flesh. When she finally went through the mouth, she witnessed what couldn't be described by words. An entire world twisting and changing constantly on its continents and oceans, with several masses of twisted organic domes and from afar, she focused her will to see the multiple abominations abound such alien and chaotic world. She simply continued to focus her will to the sky and flew until going through its atmosphere, which also seemed to contract and expand in irregular intervals.

Above the bizarre planet she could see several stars and the sight of a strange space over a star which color shifted constantly between red, orange, grey, green and every other color of the visible spectrum, while the darkness of the space also shifted of color constantly, then another strong focus of will and all that strange sight vanished, now all she could see, hear and feel was again the nothingness of sensory deprivation, unaware an entire year has passed since then. Soon things were to change... at her favor

Michael was amused, it always made him happy when he pissed off the security teams. He quickly darted for the guard closest to him's tazer, much like he had done with the MI-P57 of a GWO Scientist years ago, while two Marines watched.
The guard had been expecting this, but was still surprised by the speed of which the patient pursued his objective. He brought down his stun baton, a second too slow, but twisted his body. The patient crashed into him, hands fumbling for the taser in it's holster. They both fell to the floor, the patient on top of the guard, who had twisted under him. His stun baton slid across the small room, deactivating. The other guard fell upon the patient, wielding his stun baton like a club, swinging it to beat the patient in the head.
One Year Later, Maria...
"Patient has remained stable."
Handsen breathed a sigh of relief. His money was secure, his deal with the strangers so long ago was fufilled. He gazed at the patient, who looked little different from when she had been brought in. She had never struggled, never spoken, never moved. The serum had worked well.

Bryce started to examine her head and neck, lightly pressing repeatedly on her soft skin as he ran his fingers along the side of her neck, to the back of her ears, to her scalp, and to her temples. He observed her face for twitches or winces that may indicate pain. Good, no cervical lymphadenopathy, no masses.

He looked into her eyes. Anicteric sclerae. No Kayser-Fleischer ring. "Look up," he instructed her as he pulled her lowed lid down. Pink conjunctivae. He made her look up, down, left and right. Extraocular muscles intact. He made some maneuvers, flashing a penlight on her eyes. Pupils reactive to light, about 3mm in diameter. Direct and consensual light reflexes intact. He then covered one of her eyes and made her read a Jaeger chart. He then tested her peripheral vision by making her identify how many fingers he was holding up, like a child's game. This was done again on the other side, with him smiling every time she got it right. Essentially normal vision. He then took a ophthalmoscope, and then moved to her side as she was instructed to maintain a straight forward gaze. Bryce looked into her eye with the instrument, moving slowly closer until they were close together and could feel the other's soft breath on their faces. It was done again, this time on the other eye.

A barrage of tests followed, testing her hearing, smell, taste, and cranial nerves. All normal. Next was the chest and abdomen exam. "Uh, I'm going to listen and look to your chest and abdomen," Bryce began, gesturing politely to her that she needed to take off her gown. He started to feel some sort of uneasiness, which he didn't feel with the countless other female patients he had examined. He was always gruff with all of them. He wondered why he felt... so different with this one, and why now? Never mind that she doesn't like him, or that he doesn't like her. There was a powerful protective instinct welling up that he struggled to tamp down. "You take off your gown now," Bryce said rather brusquely, which surprised even himself. Perhaps he had struggled too hard...

OOC: Finally got to use the most random adjective I know, which, oddly enough, rarely comes up in conversation.

Going through the motions, she thought to herself as she went through most of the physical, unconsciously numbing herself and hardly thinking another thing as she did so; perhaps she was tired, the cheap sedatives her former caretakers used always seemed to do that to her, which struck her as ironic. After all, something that makes you sleep shouldn’t then make you lethargic soon after you awake. Maybe it was a result of improper rest, having the opposite effect of what one would expect. Or maybe it was appropriate, having part of the sedative effect delayed.

The doctor’s statement, casually informing her that they were progressing to the next stage of the examination, brought her back into awareness; she paused for a moment, various thoughts passing though her mind before his second, more direct statement, or rather demand, fully brought her about.

“Oh,” she said, gingerly reaching for the corner of her gown. This man is a doctor, she reminded herself as she pulled at it, And this is surely common for him. If having someone of the same gender examine you was a special request, it must have been common practice here for women to be examined by men, or even men to be examined by women. It is strictly professional, she concluded, settling the matter for herself, at least she hoped. With that, the callipygian young woman pulled her medical gown off.

She was immediately struck by how little the gown had kept her warm—she was cold before, and now felt nearly the same, though an involuntary shiver went through her thin body. Her pale skin, which looked as though she had not seen the sun in quite some time, bristled with goose bumps. All of this she became painfully aware of, but far from making an effort to cover herself, she now straightened up; in for a penny . . . she told herself, though, like everything she had been telling herself, she only partially believed it.

“What sort of problems might you expect to find?” she asked, attempting to be a bit more casual, though she felt nearly as tense as she ever had in the past.

“What sort of problems might you expect to find?” she asked, attempting to be a bit more casual, though she felt nearly as tense as she ever had in the past.
"Hopefully we'll find nothing abnormal," Bryce told her. He was actually hoping it would turn out that way. "A complete physical exaination is routine for all patients here."

He then inspected her chest and abdomen. No scars, deformities, or striae. Bryce palpated her chest and back, including a breast exam. No lumps or masses. Breast examination unremarkable. Next came percussion, and then he listened to her lungs and heart.

Bryce draped her chest as he examined her abdomen. All were essentially normal. The next part is much harder. "We would like to perform a gynecological exam. Is that fine with you?"

((OOC: Where should Bob go? I was thinking drop into the wrong room by accident or something but whatever suits your needs))

"Hopefully we'll find nothing abnormal," Bryce told her. He was actually hoping it would turn out that way. "A complete physical exaination is routine for all patients here."

He then inspected her chest and abdomen. No scars, deformities, or striae. Bryce palpated her chest and back, including a breast exam. No lumps or masses. Breast examination unremarkable. Next came percussion, and then he listened to her lungs and heart.

Bryce draped her chest as he examined her abdomen. All were essentially normal. The next part is much harder. "We would like to perform a gynecological exam. Is that fine with you?"

Her feelings of awkwardness, which persisted despite her attempted self-delusion, only grew worse as the exam grew more invasive . . . and grabby. God, give me strength.

Then came the next part.

“Oh,” she said, briefly unable to come up with a response. Up until this point was invasive enough, beyond any situation she ever saw herself in, but that would take it to an all new level. So be it.

“Sure,” she finally held, “Do you have everything you need here?”

Her feelings of awkwardness, which persisted despite her attempted self-delusion, only grew worse as the exam grew more invasive . . . and grabby. God, give me strength.

Then came the next part.

“Oh,” she said, briefly unable to come up with a response. Up until this point was invasive enough, beyond any situation she ever saw herself in, but that would take it to an all new level. So be it.

“Sure,” she finally held, “Do you have everything you need here?”
"Yes," Bryce answered and then paused for a moment for an afterthought. Perhaps he can ask Kate to do the gynecological exam? He dismissed the thought after a few moments and reached for the bowl and the speculum and other stuff from the table.

He placed the stuff at the foot of the bed and covered her boy with the drape. He then positioned her legs and raised her gown. "Had you ever had sexual intercourse?"

"Yes," Bryce answered and then paused for a moment for an afterthought. Perhaps he can ask Kate to do the gynecological exam? He dismissed the thought after a few moments and reached for the bowl and the speculum and other stuff from the table.

He placed the stuff at the foot of the bed and covered her boy with the drape. He then positioned her legs and raised her gown. "Had you ever had sexual intercourse?"

“No, I’m not married” she coughed, suppressing the deep offense she immediately felt, wiping it off her face; it is still a standard exam; he is not saying you are a whore, it is a standard medical question here. She moderated her tone, “I have not had sexual intercourse.”

George paced around in his room all day, thinking about what to do, what to do. He did some exercise, he hoped that the doc came back to "review"him again so he could tell her that he was innocent.

“No, I’m not married” she coughed, suppressing the deep offense she immediately felt, wiping it off her face; it is still a standard exam; he is not saying you are a whore, it is a standard medical question here. She moderated her tone, “I have not had sexual intercourse.”
Bryce put on gloves and started examining the perineal area. "I hope that me doing this test is going to be fine for you," Bryce said. "If you wish me stop, please say so and you can let Dr. Valera take over."

OOC: Had she had sexual intercourse, been raped, etc?

Bryce put on gloves and started examining the perineal area. "I hope that me doing this test is going to be fine for you," Bryce said. "If you wish me stop, please say so and you can let Dr. Valera take over."

OOC: Had she had sexual intercourse, been raped, etc?

"I am fine," she said, speaking partially to herself as well as to him. Being in this foreign place would take some getting used to. That is, some getting used to beyond what one would expect of a sane person in a mental hospital.

OOC: Nope.

"I am fine," she said, speaking partially to herself as well as to him. Being in this foreign place would take some getting used to. That is, some getting used to beyond what one would expect of a sane person in a mental hospital.

OOC: Nope.
"Very well," Bryce said as he performed the gynecologocial exam. All normal. Next up was the mental exam. "Congratulations," he said, you are physically normal."

OOC: I wouldn't delve into details lest someone get offended if I get too graphic. ;)

Also, does she have any mental diseases like amnesia, inability to recognize faces, etc?

"Very well," Bryce said as he performed the gynecologocial exam. All normal. Next up was the mental exam. "Congratulations," he said, you are physically normal."

OOC: I wouldn't delve into details lest someone get offended if I get too graphic. ;)

Also, does she have any mental diseases like amnesia, inability to recognize faces, etc?

“Oh good,” Jamie squeaked, half gasped, hastily before she could catch herself; it was certainly an odd experience, one which she hoped to have over with as quickly as possible. She still tried to remain cool, calm, collected, but she regularly had to catch herself to keep her breathing regular, though her efforts were less than completely successful, and certainly less than discreet. Her nervousness could quite possibly get her into great trouble, she knew that.

“Um, what’s next, Doctor?”

OOC: I completely understand; you'll note my lack of description in post #192, despite the fact that I like to use lots of description, and could very well have done some very good writing there.

Nah, perfectly sane, no mental problems or deficiencies. I'm beginning to think that I should have had something physically awry, more than a common cold, at least, to make this even more interesting.

“Oh good,” Jamie squeaked, half gasped, hastily before she could catch herself; it was certainly an odd experience, one which she hoped to have over with as quickly as possible. She still tried to remain cool, calm, collected, but she regularly had to catch herself to keep her breathing regular, though her efforts were less than completely successful, and certainly less than discreet. Her nervousness could quite possibly get her into great trouble, she knew that.

“Um, what’s next, Doctor?”

OOC: I completely understand; you'll note my lack of description in post #192, despite the fact that I like to use lots of description, and could very well have done some very good writing there.

Nah, perfectly sane, no mental problems or deficiencies. I'm beginning to think that I should have had something physically awry, more than a common cold, at least, to make this even more interesting.
"I'm going to ask you a few more questions and make you do a few more things," Bryce said. He wasn't supposed to tell her that the next would be a mental status exam, or a mental exam. And so he proceeded to ask her seemingly innocuous, trivial questions, made her draw and remember stuff, tried to psychoanalyze her.

She seems normal, Bryce thought as he finished the exam. Maybe I should review the history.

"Yup, I think we are done here," Bryce said as he gathered his stuff and placed it in the bag. "You have any questions?"

"I'm going to ask you a few more questions and make you do a few more things," Bryce said. He wasn't supposed to tell her that the next would be a mental status exam, or a mental exam. And so he proceeded to ask her seemingly innocuous, trivial questions, made her draw and remember stuff, tried to psychoanalyze her.

She seems normal, Bryce thought as he finished the exam. Maybe I should review the history.

"Yup, I think we are done here," Bryce said as he gathered his stuff and placed it in the bag. "You have any questions?"

“Actually,” she began, hesitating for a moment; this was a big risk, but she really did want her things. If it didn’t work, she wouldn’t be much worse off than she was now.

“Um, I actually had some personal items, brought from the old facility. Some clothing, a couple books, you know,” she began to seem more cutesy, as much as she could while hastily grabbing her gown, her thought of her clothing reminding her of those concerns, “And I was wondering if I could, um, have them. They aren’t like dangerous, just, you know, my things, personal effects.”

They would undoubtedly search everything, but she was confident that they wouldn’t be able to find anything suspicious. At least not without knowing specifically what they were looking for and how it was hidden. Something which wouldn’t happen.

“Actually,” she began, hesitating for a moment; this was a big risk, but she really did want her things. If it didn’t work, she wouldn’t be much worse off than she was now.

“Um, I actually had some personal items, brought from the old facility. Some clothing, a couple books, you know,” she began to seem more cutesy, as much as she could while hastily grabbing her gown, her thought of her clothing reminding her of those concerns, “And I was wondering if I could, um, have them. They aren’t like dangerous, just, you know, my things, personal effects.”

They would undoubtedly search everything, but she was confident that they wouldn’t be able to find anything suspicious. At least not without knowing specifically what they were looking for and how it was hidden. Something which wouldn’t happen.
"We'll see," Bryce said as he finished packing up. He looked at the tray at the table, looking at the syringe filled with medications. Never mind that, he thought as he reached for the straitjacket.

OOC: What should I find?

The guard had been expecting this, but was still surprised by the speed of which the patient pursued his objective. He brought down his stun baton, a second too slow, but twisted his body. The patient crashed into him, hands fumbling for the taser in it's holster. They both fell to the floor, the patient on top of the guard, who had twisted under him. His stun baton slid across the small room, deactivating. The other guard fell upon the patient, wielding his stun baton like a club, swinging it to beat the patient in the head.

Michael was having a spasm as the electricity went through him, but he still had some control. He tried to roll away, but his arm locked up before he could grab the taser. The frustration in his eyes over electric weapnry couldn't be seen through his mask.

The second guard grabbed the patient and locked his arms over the patients, restraining him. The guard on the floor rose shakily to his feet and unholstered his tazer. He fired point-blank into Michael, the shot hitting him in the center of his chest. They dragged the man to a bunk and strapped him down with leather straps, locking them with iron locks. They shut the lights off and left, ignoring the now deactivated camera.

(OOC: DON'T TASE ME BRO'! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdpr-fWK--s), and as an example of what type of thing Maria is trying to put within the doctor's mind: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lva8L-J8x04)


One Year Later, Maria...
"Patient has remained stable."
Handsen breathed a sigh of relief. His money was secure, his deal with the strangers so long ago was fufilled. He gazed at the patient, who looked little different from when she had been brought in. She had never struggled, never spoken, never moved. The serum had worked well.

With all physical sense shut down, the sensation of nothingness would soon take her to insanity, as she has resisted for too long. It was an uneasy feeling that crawled upon her mind, a will of revenge echoing through nothing mixed with the sensation of impotence and despair. At this rate it was about time that her own consciousness would embrace the oblivion everywhere, not a single smell, touch, taste, vision or sound. It was too much even for her now.

It was not a very exact notion of time of when she could hear something, she was sure of it, somehow what should be impossible happened. It was a simple sigh, probably done by a man, but it was a sound from the outside world, she was sure of it. Months without feeling nothing made of this simple noise the most valuable thing for Maria now. And in fact it was maybe a strange example of the butterfly effect that such simple and short sound would be the key for her to get out of there.

In fact as she started to focus her thoughts, soon a surge of sensations started to overcome her, she could "feel" the presence of someone near her, she knew the doctor was there, watching her and probably wondering on his account from where the bribe of those who putted her here went to. It was a very strange experience, something that could not be described with words, as senses beyond the physical realm were isolated, her psychic senses started to slowly flourish. The darkness of her sight slowly subdued as the blurry lights of a vision started to take shape, first the larger forms of the corners of the small room she was locked in and the silhouette of a man next to her became clear, and slowly the blurred image started to become more clear as she could see the doctor observing her, gazing at her entirely strapped body over the stainless steel dolly and white bed over it, and the serum bag at her left keeping her physical senses continually numbed as small droplets of whatever chemicals were there reached deep into her veins.

She did not know how, but her vision shifted and changed like if there was a flying camera in the room, a "flying camera" she slowly changed of focus and direction as she was getting used to the new sense of vision. The doctor still was there, and she felt only one urge as she started to gaze at doctor Handsen eyes through her Extra-sensory vision. Her hostile stare focused deeply in every detail imprinted in his iris and right eyeball, where the bloodstreams and details were watched cautiously while she became more and more enraged.

It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and thus her gaze seemed not only to be a form of sense, but now she started to have thoughts directed at him, the most disturbing, nightmarish and horrible thoughts her mind could create. The knowledge of his presence was more than enough for a telepathic burst of visions and sounds to reach the mind of the doctor, asides from the strange sensation of having someone with him besides her that he could not see. A part of her revenge was complete.

On the other hand things started to happen at that room at the same moment. The camera feed simply started to show only static in a pattern which seemed to make sense but didn't, until it simply shut down as all the electricity inside that room failed. Maybe it was an inevitable occurrence that eventually such place supposedly for the insane would become by itself insane as if alive.

Handsen stared down at the women. Such a fine speciman. It is too bad she is wasted in this strange experiment. However, it pays me well, so who am I to complain?
The doctor reeled as a sudden burst of sight and sound invaded him mind, scattering his thoughts like dead leaves in a violent storm:
A bloody corpse, stretched to the point of breaking the spine, lying on an operating table took Maria's place. The room went dim and very cold, dank light shadowing everything. The thing about darkness is that it is not scary, merely unknown. Shadows, on the other hand, trick the eyes and mind and could hold anything in their depths. The next minute or so was too horrible for the doctor to remember accuratly. He saw faces and pictures, body fluids and gore and mountain's of dead, a Sea of Blood and a Throne of Skulls. Demons perverted beauty, twisting and ravanging until a pretty women was no more than a pile of bones and meat and destroying a landscape until it was cratered and choked with ash and dust. Thoughout screams and desperate, hopeless cries for help echoed inside his head.
Externally, all anyone saw was all the electronics in the room shut down abruptly. The technicians and nurses and guards behind the glass of the isolated room panicked, hurridly trying to restart and reboot the computers and monitors. Handsen, inside, slide down the wall, drool leaking from his mouth, eyes rolled back in his head, a foul-smelling stain on his pants and sweat rolling from every part of his body. Internally he was inchs from death, but still horribly concious and lucid. His last thoughts were something like:
So...it is true...

(OOC: Sea of Blood and Throne of Skulls? (http://www.crazy-achmed.com/sponsoring/khornefl.jpg))

As soon as the imagery of horrors raged against an unprepared mind, Maria could "see" how it affected the corrupt doctor. Like the blind who has his senses of hearing and smelling improved, she, devoid of all other senses had her capabilities and senses beyond the physical realm drastically improved for as long as she was completely deprived from direct contact with reality. But that was not part of her intentions.
Hatred flew through her mind as she remembered of Isabel, or whatever her true name is. She had to get out of there now, it simply was itching her that she could not stand one more day in such place. The panoramic view now turned into an bird's eye view over the room. She could notice every single detail, her body held immobile by several straps and the place where each strap was being held by a buckle.

It was a slow process as she focused her will into the physical object of the buckle of one of the straps tied to her right pinky finger. It took her an entire focus on it and 2 seconds to unfasten it from its place, releasing her still immobile finger, and she did the same with all other straps over her four other fingers. As they released there were visible red marks of them over her pale skin, because of the pressure they exerted against it.
It took her another 30 seconds to remove using whatever energy her mind turned into kinetic energy, one by one, the eight straps holding her right arm in place, leaving a large red mark over her wrist while the needle of the serum also was removed, allowing a few drops of blood to run from her veins and fall to the ground. And thus she finally took more 30 seconds as the straps on her forehead, neck and upper section of her torso were removed in sequence, as she also took away the blindfold.

After this she started to return to normal physical perception as the vision returned to her eyes and her unnatural skills started to diminish. The brightness of the room was initially a strike against her bright hazel eyes and its dilated pupils, which acquired some deep sensibility to light due to the utter lack of it. After ten seconds they adjusted to the quantity of light in the room as she could see again. From this point she could remove the rest of the straps with her free hand, hoping that the scare she gave would keep them enoughly distracted or frightened to go there by themselves before she was free again.

She tilted her head right to look at her hand as she could not feel it, and then started to clumsily move it around. Eventually reaching one of the buckles that was linked to her lower torso and exerted an unhealthy pressure against her belly. It was the same sensation of an claustrophobe getting away from the darkness what she felt as she unfastened that particularly bothersome strap to the point that even after all those drugs its pressure could still be felt. She took then a deep breath before continuing, something she was not able to do either for more than a year.

Now with her torso and head entirely freed, she tilted her head to the left and started to do the same with her left upper limbs. As she did it she was slowly starting to recover her sense of touch and to feel the pressure exerted against her body by the straps and the rag and surgical lines inside her mouth. Soon she freed her left arm as well, and then got up as she unstrapped her legs and after less than 3 minutes she almost jumped from the dolly and stood. Her agile feet directly touching the cold ground of the room as she stared again at the panicked doctor as she removed the facial mask, revealing the lines that kept her mouth sewn to him. She then took advantage of her now large fingernails and removed them through a not very precise way, leaving several wounds around her lips and provoking some significant bleeding, but she did not care at all of how painful it was to remove it, and thereafter remove that sterilized rag that wench punched at her mouth, now only two things mattered to her, changed mind: to find Pablo and to take revenge on who did this to her.

But there was more as she felt something, something impelling her to break open the bed she was kept into, to touch it and feel it. And thus she started to do as her intuition, exerting pressure against the soft foam from one side of the bed to the other, until she reached something. There was something they smuggled with her. But what could it be was her wonder. There was one way to know as her mind tried to find a way of tearing all that foam open. She was not sure on how, but when she looked at the iron rod that kept the serum, she simply took it and punched against the wall, releasing a small shard of cement from it. The rough sensation of the shard was another stimulus she did not felt for ages as she started to, with delicate care, cut the foam of her bed open.
It teared in the middle of it from where she inserted her hand to find what was there, and then when she pulled it out, something that challenged all logic happened. It seemed that those who sent her there gave her a loaded Glock 18C pistol with 17 9x19mm rounds loaded inside it. She took it together with a tiny enveloped paper which seemed to be a message for her, although she lacked time to read it now. Using her hands she quickly turned off its safety lock and armed it to fire against whoever dared to stop her. And before leaving, she pointed the gun for five seconds at the doctor's head, and then simply smiled as she departed cautiously and at full alert, always pointing her gun ahead through the corridor.

The second guard grabbed the patient and locked his arms over the patients, restraining him. The guard on the floor rose shakily to his feet and unholstered his tazer. He fired point-blank into Michael, the shot hitting him in the center of his chest. They dragged the man to a bunk and strapped him down with leather straps, locking them with iron locks. They shut the lights off and left, ignoring the now deactivated camera.

Michael stared at the blank space between himself and the ceiling. It wasn't much different from what the GWO had done to him. There were many changes in setting though. There were no blue-white floor lights. The roof wasn't 50 feet above the floor. There weren't any machines constantly sucking fluids out of him or monitoring his vital signs. He lifted his head a little and let drool down onto the strap holding his neck down. With any luck, the strap would eventually give way to the saliva. However, that would be a long process.

OOC: Indeed :D
IC:
(Outside Michael's room)
A guard stepped out of a room in front of her. Those in the observation room had long since fled, and the room and hall was deserted, save the guard. He yawned, the stretching of his mouth hidden behind his surgical mask. The man had been one of the two to strap Michael down in the room, and had now stepped out for a rest. His eyes widened as he suddenly saw the robed(?) women with the pistol. He yanked his tazer free from it's holster. "Hey! You're not supposed to be here!"

(Outside Michael's room)
A guard stepped out of a room in front of her. Those in the observation room had long since fled, and the room and hall was deserted, save the guard. He yawned, the stretching of his mouth hidden behind his surgical mask. The man had been one of the two to strap Michael down in the room, and had now stepped out for a rest. His eyes widened as he suddenly saw the robed(?) women with the pistol. He yanked his tazer free from it's holster. "Hey!..."

The footsteps of the guard were audible enough for her as her blood flowed in a much more intense rate due to the tension and adrenalin. Before he could finish his sentence or aim his taser she said "Drop it!" as she pointed her gun against his head and her finger was already touching the trigger inside its grip. She seemed to be less aggressive than before. An year ago she would have simply killed such guard in the blink of an eye.

The man immediatly dropped his tazer to the floor. He slowly raised his hands into the air. "Don't shoot." He sweated heavily, having no way to call for help and knowing that there was no one else on this floor.
OOC:
What is she wearing? Standared hospital gown?

Michael heard the commotion outside from inside his room. He stopped salivating on his leather straps and let his head down, thinking, "Someone to finish the job with."



((OOC: Keep in mind that the contact card for Michael's Armed Security Unit was left in the hospital in case Michael tried what Maria is doing right now. They're not in the place itself, but they're close and they have a van.))

OOC: So they're on call in case things get out of hand?

OOC: So they're on call in case things get out of hand?

((OOC: Yes, because the last time he got a gun, about 13 Security Marines got killed along with over 30 unarmed staff members of the Cloning Facility he was in.))

The man immediatly dropped his tazer to the floor. He slowly raised his hands into the air. "Don't shoot." He sweated heavily, having no way to call for help and knowing that there was no one else on this floor.
OOC:
What is she wearing? Standared hospital gown?

(OOC: White cotton shirt and pants)

She kept her gaze and aim at him as she approached and grabbed the tazer from the floor, putting it in a pocket of the white pants she was dressed with. She simply said with a smile:

"If I was insane I would have already killed you, would not I? I think herr good doktor needs your help, maybe he should take some vacations because dealing with the truly mad for so much time must have put him under more stress than he could take", she said, pointing her arm which wielded no weapons to the direction of the room she ran away from as she kept an eye on him. She then added, smiling "I will not kill anyone as long as nobody stops me, and look at me! If you think of trying to stop me... I will know it before you do!", she said in a way that seemed to contradict what she said earlier, but still her stare seemed to pierce straight at the thoughts of the guard as she looked at him, when she added as a last comment as foreign and recent superficial thoughts swirled through her mind: "Michael? You shocked that guy and strapped him tight, right? The one from the room you just came from? Yes, I know you are afraid of death... who isn't? Now, Doctor Handsen really needs your help, and I'm sure his health is more important than someone as insignificant as myself", she said as she took her gaze off him, and started to leave the corridor and head to the lobby of the sanitarium, still keeping an eye on the man. She also drew the tazer with her left hand as she moved on. Michael seemed to be unnecessarily dangerous for her to let him out and would probably only hinder her plans.

"Erm...yeah, right." The guard backed away towards the room, hands still in the air. "I'm a nice guy, see, no need to get violent!" he stepped inside the operating room and vanished from sight.
OOC:
I need to know because if she proceeds though the hospital normally, those guards and whatnot will assume she's a visitor or something. If she runs around pointing her pistol at everyone, there will be a small battle.
She's located on the top floor of the seven floor hospital. There's no elevators at that level, only stairs. This is the level for isolated patients.

(OOC: First her mouth is still wounded from the marks of the surgical line, second there are red marks of the straps on her skin of neck, ankles and wrists and third she is barefoot, thus it's doubtful she could bluff the guards because she is better with a weapon than with words... though the tazer is a better choice for now due to being more silent, although her improvised garrote would be more fitting. I'll stop the thread for each floor, to make things more interesting, although she intends to use only the stairs as getting down through the elevator is completely foolish)

Maria soon found the staircase down at the end of the corridor as her memories started to flash. It was just like when she was trying to escape from her apartment as an angry mob sought to kill her, but this time the handgun she had lacked a silencer. She also still kept the surgical line she removed from her lips inside one of the pockets of her pants, as it could serve as an improvised garrote if needed, and that was her preferred method of assassination as well. Trying to deceive or disguise would be futile, only one way would work. And this time she was not going to fail...

She sneaked through the stairs supporting herself through the cold white cement wall her back slightly touched, each step deliberatedly planned beforehand to make no noise at all through the equally cold floor, while she guarded her pistol in the right pocket and kept the taser ready to fire as she took several steps, and for each turn of the stairs, she leaned to check the other side before continuing.
Her heartbeat was like the ticking of a timed bomb and she tried to avoid sweating cold as she then leaned to check the place where the stairs were linked with the sixth floor, before continuing, to avoid being spotted.

"We'll see," Bryce said as he finished packing up. He looked at the tray at the table, looking at the syringe filled with medications. Never mind that, he thought as he reached for the straitjacket.

OOC: What should I find?

“Thank you,” she said nicely, “But is the jacket necessary? I’m clearly not violent, right?” She would not loose her cool again, but she certainly did not want to go back into the jacket. Perhaps the good doctor, psychotic as he might be, would be more sympathetic to her, what with her extensive cooperation through the most humiliating of exams.

OOC: Nothing; her things are some clothes (a skirt, a blouse, jeans, a dress, and a jacket, as well as unmentionables), two books (the Bible and Parlons, a book to teach French), an mp3 player, and a crucifix necklace.

“Thank you,” she said nicely, “But is the jacket necessary? I’m clearly not violent, right?” She would not loose her cool again, but she certainly did not want to go back into the jacket. Perhaps the good doctor, psychotic as he might be, would be more sympathetic to her, what with her extensive cooperation through the most humiliating of exams.

OOC: Nothing; her things are some clothes (a skirt, a blouse, jeans, a dress, and a jacket, as well as unmentionables), two books (the Bible and Parlons, a book to teach French), an mp3 player, and a crucifix necklace.
Bryce held the straitjacket. "Nope, this won't be necessary," he said, but added a warning. "Be careful who you associate with, many of these patients are worse than you." He stood up and started to leave, taking the straitjacket with him. "Have a nice day." He then followed Kate out of the door and then locked it shut.

The 6th floor was nearly as quiet as the 7th. A nurse rattled her way down the hall with a cart of disgusting hospital food. Two doctors discussed in an office near Maria's position, and a single guard idely typed on his cell phone at the end of the hall, at the set of stairs leading to the fifth floor. The walls were stark white and bare, cooled to a frosty chill by the air conditioner. The floor was made up of white and green tiles all the way down, and invaded the patients rooms as well. There was absoultly no cover in the hall, so if Maria wanted to get to the fifth floor, she would have to go in guns roaring...or devise a quieter, more clever plan involving not being seen by the nurse, guard, or doctors.

(OOC: Where is a swiss army knife when you need one? (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/9/92/MacGyver_intro.jpg). And this is more or less like Maria when she is doing wet works (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wet_work): 50s espionage (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:No_one_lives_forever_2_video_game_PC_cover_scan.jpg). I intend to write up a background later to explain better her skills. And finally, what will happen with doctor Handsen?)

Her head slowly tilted entirely back to the cover of the wall behind that flight of stairs leading to the hallway of the 6th floor just after she scouted it and started to consider her options from this point on.

A lust for blood crossed her mind as she saw those people. It was either her or them, was the thought that wallowed through the depths of her brain. One of her hands was reaching for the Glock 18C pistol as another idea started to shock. It would be foolish... it would be pleasurable... it would be no! It must be successful!
She reached her left hand away from the pistol as the grip of the tazer was felt by her right raised hand. She slowly and precisely moved her hand and landed the tazer on her right pocket. Her back touched the wall completely from that position as she had an idea which seemed more sensible than freaking out with her gun and calling the attention of the entire place. But with normal senses again, her awakened potential had lowered as she had to attempt ignoring the sensations of the body and unnecessary thoughts to do her goal. Taking a deep, silent breath she started to relax as her eyelids closed and she sustained her body at the wall. She had to get rid of all feelings, hatred, fear, anxiety, bloodlust... Soon she was almost immobile as she ignored noises, smells and touch. All that mattered was one thing. She struggled to recreated the still image of what she saw on the hallway. She then mentally scaled the cell phone and soon she could see both it and the cart filled with the cheap food. In fact it was so clear that the food started to smell like sewage to her, maybe by an exaggeration of her mind, while the noises of the keys of the cell phone could be heard.

Both images shifted inside her mind as her forehead start to sweat. Her brain activity has increased drastically and she was getting even red, almost feverish. Her imagined view of both objects soon changed as she could see and will for two simultaneous actions. One on part of her mental image she saw the exact moment the cellphone slided from the hand of the guard, while on the other the plates of the cart clumsily slided from it due to what, for most people, would be only a mere accident and mistake of the nurse. At the same moment the sounds of a small object and of a plate falling broke away her concentration as her eyelids moved slowly away from her eyes as light bathed them again, and she leaned again against the wall to check the hall, hoping that the falling of both objects from the nurse and from the guard would serve as a perfect distraction. She then awaited for the few seconds both would look away from the staircase or crouch for her to sneak through there safely.

(OOC: Basically I would like you to only describe the reaction of the guard and nurse to those "accidents" in a brief period of time.)

OOC: I think Handsen may end up a patient in his own hospital. ;) The irony is just delecious.
IC:
The guard wasn't even aware of the cell phone falling from his fingers until it hit the floor. "Shit." he muttered, and stooped to retreive it. At the same time the nurse jumped in surprise as the plates and silverware inside the cart clattered and smashed to the floor, spilling food the width of the hall. She let go of the cart, which skidded onto it's side and crashed to the floor. The guard picked up his cell phone and, after pocketing it, went to help her clean up. Both kneeled to scrape the pieces and food off the floor, giving Maria a perfect chance.

(OOC: I came with Maria's life story here)

Some older memories started to be triggered by all the events as of now...

´12 years ago...Agent Maria...Operation... Operation Artemis...I'll still kill them for it one day!´, her memories flashed through the moment she started to sneak through the staircase, fast but silently. Her movements were too precise and exact to be considered those of a simple civilian experienced in crime, she must have had some sort of background as a field agent of some intelligence agency... it wasn't simply feasible for a mere civilian to show such skill and to sneak fast enough towards the fifth floor for both guard and nurse not notice her. The vivid images came to her mind as she was below the sixth floor, and safely hidden between the sixth and fifth floors for now... memories of pain and suffering.

´They left me alone, they abandoned me... they betrayed me, I was just a pawn, for their "cause of freedom", the bullshit they used to stand for their own selfish interests. They are no anarchists... they are just scum, pure and simply, which instead of exploiting themselves exploit the rest of the world with their secretly smuggled drugs, tools of war... they twisted an ideology for their ends instead of assuming their true nature. They arrogantly see themselves superior to all other peoples of Earth and yet dare to claim being anarchists!´, her mind spoke with nothing coming from her mouth as she remembered as precisely as she could. She was sent to infiltrate the Medellin family when she was a young, innocent, idealistic and quite lascivious Spy of the Blackguards Special Forces before, and they were like a family to her, they were everything she had, because her parents were killed during the Second Spanish Civil War before the foundation of Third Spanish States, and thus could not watch as, after much personal struggle, she was awarded as the champion of the 2016 European Teen Acrobatic Gymnastics tournament, when she had only 12 years of age and became orphaned... 3 years before she was both recruited and raised by the Blackguards to begin her training since youth after she was caught stealing a mutualist credit card from a man, as poverty still existed in the early stages of Third Spanish States development. She trusted them deeply as they trusted her, she lived with them for 7 years, until everything changed as her cover was broken after she already had 4 years of field experience and was 22 years old.

She could remember the thugs pointing guns against her head, the other infiltrated agents selfishly abandoning her to her fate like rats jumping from a sinking ship and not caring at all of organizing a rescue mission for her, she was just an expendable pawn for them... she still also could remember the brutal interrogations and torture methods the Medellins did against her from which she still had scars she carefully hid at her back and belly. The incomparable despair from being locked in a hot dark and dank room with nothing to eat or drink for almost 3 days. It was a shock treatment of the worst of reality that shaped her nature and values to its current form. She only survived because Pablo, the still young head of the Medellins competing with many other crime families, fell in love with her as he saw her and formally apologized for what has been done... he gave her a chance of starting a new career without the hypocrisy of "being used as cannon fodder in the name of 'anarchism'". Maybe it was some form of Stockholm Syndrome (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome), or maybe the sheer need of survival that led her to share similar feelings towards him. And since them she became his wife and also the most feared assassin of the Medellin's family... she had no family and those she considered her "family" and friends before betrayed her, nobody ever cared about her life or well-being at all, was her thought, and she equally cared little about human life. ´At least I do not use the name of "anarchism" or "freedom" as an hypocrite pretext to harm others, what I do is pure and honest take of social Darwinism without any doublespeak´. She somehow admired the Medellins because they did not hide what they truly were or their intentions under a disguise of a "nobler goal", or at least she thought so.

The memories faded away as she focused again on the present, she wanted to simply forget the past, but until her revenge wasn't complete she could not do it. In fact those who brought her there definitively were disguised Blackguards, in her thoughts... as it was not enough to let her defenseless among her previous enemies and now allies, they also now have gotten even lower, and used her as a test subject for some kind of wicked experiment.

Soon she was again at another floor, as she leaned right to check the hallway of the fifth floor to make sure it was clear and she could continue further down. She was feeling the coldness and lifelessness of the environment around her as her eyes could see through peripheral vision what was there.

This floor was far more crowded than the two previous. It was bustling with patients, nurses, doctors and guards. This floor contained the cafeteria, rec room and the guard and nurse breakroom. Unfortunatly for Maria, it was no lunchtime. Those doctors, nurses, guards, visitors and those patients stable enough to eat with others all visited the cafeteria at one point or another. It was impossible that Maria could get though without being seen, there was at least twenty people crammed into the hall at all times. The blue-gray double doors situated on the right side of the passage led to the cafeteria, while the row of doors on the left were two different breakrooms, a rec room, and a few storage rooms. The basic design of the fifth floor was the same as the sixth.

(OOC: If you didn't notice already, I'm using ´ to separate thoughts and memories from current happenings, and I hope it won't pollute the thread or seem to be an In-Character hijack(if that is even possible), to add some extra memories, I'm trying to add some real depth to her and to add some color to this thread as well. At least I take some decent effort to justify it rather than "My ub3r-ninjaz can climb on walls!!!!!!1111oneone")

´"And let me remind you again of the first question: if a civilization as a whole was insane, naturally madness-provoking and inhuman, why should those who challenge its status quo and perception of reality be considered schizophrenic? With this question in your minds, have you ever considered the possibility that reality itself as a 'normal people' perceive is a lie? The buddhists believe[...]"´. Her memory now took her back to when she, a bit reluctantly due to her dislike of academics, went to watch the 4th Confederacy's Anti-psychiatry (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-psychiatry) Congress in Tucker, when she was about to be "graduated" as a field operative of the Blackguards after 3 years of intense military training and top quality college education. The memory took a leap as it continued, and it was anything but a typical ivory tower event:
´"The totalitarian police state of the Soviet Union used psychiatry as a tool to get rid of political dissidents by inventing the sluggish schizophrenia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sluggish_schizophrenia). Slaves who tried to flee or kill themselves were diagnosed with drapetomania (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drapetomania).[...]Now, might I ask you, who of you would spend five hundred mutualist credits in a low quality tennis shoe only because of the prestige of its brand?[...]As I expected, nobody is insane enough to do something that stupid with their money, but did you know there are people who starve to be able to afford a tennis with a famous brand in the capitalist Third World? Should those people be sent to insane asylums for having 'compulsive consumerist disorder'?", the orator said as some people started to laugh, the rest of the congress also was by itself highly cynical and humorous as most orators mocked and joked over many concepts of traditional psychiatry while also pointing empirical evidences against it. Maria wasn't bored at all from watching it, though a few proponents of traditional psychiatry left angrily, not even trying to defend their points of view´. Maybe it was the irony of the memory itself that led her to remember it, considering her current situation.

Her head also started to ache lightly as she overworked her awakened skills in the last time. She would definitively not be able to do anything more complex than that demonstration of telekinesis from now on. And what she saw wasn't good either, a despair started to fill her thoughts as she wondered that her try to escape was gone for good. At least she did not kill anyone. But her lips were not only aching, but also itching from the wounds as she could almost feel the holes and tears through her skin as she again licked her lips to avoid them from dripping blood, although the bleeding was finally stopping. She would not simply run there, the advantage of surprise she still had was the only thing giving her a chance of escape, and that guard should still be busy with doctor Handsen for now.

She simply sat down silently on the stairs, and as she breathed slowly to avoid making any noise, she had another memory, since her skills were awakened she could see her memories with the precision and clearness of a cinematographic recording, and also remember the smells and sensations of them, it was like a return to the past:

´She was on her second year of training, it was a large clearing in the outdoors of the Bacconi woods with several gymnastics and training tools spread around, including heavy lifting weights, walls covered with barbed and electric wires, security cameras, tight apertures to crawl into, places with objects and architecture to take cover and sneak where an observer would try to spot her and other less, pleasant things like devices intended to simulate the pain of a non-lethal bullet wound, taser, kick or punch to allow them to be able to react in combat even when hurt by such tools, which were of course depending on a voluntary choice to subject to them, although those who gave up simply couldn't continue further and had to continue with their "normal" lives, as the large placard said, in Spanish, Portuguese and English, in a nearby large shack where the barracks were located: "No Pain, No Gain".

Sweat could be felt dripping from her hairs and forehead while her light and flexible sport shoes were wet of sweating. Her tightly-fitting red tracksuit had the secret symbol of the Blackguards on its left shoulder, which was a flag with the skull of what was supposed to represent a king or dictator with a golden monarchic crown over its head being pierced by firearms and blades in an overall shape which resembled a pirate flag, including its black background, and instead of blood, there was sweat literally bleeding through such symbol and from all parts of her increasingly fit body. She was very tired and exhausted, which wasn't surprising after another extensive afternoon of physical training following a mind-breaking morning on the "Language Day" of Russian, German, Italian, Dutch and French, her vision saw a tall, muscular blond-haired man of almost perfect fitness as he looked straight through her eyes with his brown eyes as he said, using Spanish language:
"I hope you took your intermediate physical training seriously Maria, you have a natural talent on agility which made of you the highlight of your class but you must have already increased your endurance and strength during the last six months to be able to circumvent the simulated situations that I shall present now, starting from situation one, and I'll be brief describing it: You are hidden in a room must sneak through a door at its middle which connects to another room, but there is no way to avoid being caught once you pass through it as it is open and there are five guards with direct field of view to the opening of the door on the room the door leads to. If you backtrack you'll end in a dead end and there is no other single way for you to escape. Finally if you entered in combat you would have to face 100 hostiles at once and you do not have a silencer and neither you have any form of disguise. What would you do?"
Maria was only 14 years old by then, although physically she already resembled an adult woman while mentally, thanks to the whole experience, she already acquired the maturity that only someone six years older than her would normally. She thought harder and harder, and simply shrugged as she lowered her head in shame: "I... cannot see a way to get through there, I am sorry".
The athletic middle-aged man, who was her trainer, simply smiled:
"Don't be ashamed Maria, nobody ever gave me the right answer on this. At least you did not invent a cheap excuse of an action just to boast yourself claiming you know it."
Her eyes then again looked at his face as she tried to smile. It was a very long day, but she had a very strong will propelling her to not give up the Blackguards training, whereas about half of her class already gave up, maybe she did that to remind of her own parents, who died fighting for what they believed into, they always told the two worst inventions of mankind did not include the atomic bomb, but instead the two worst inventions of mankind were hierarchical governments and capitalism, and the greatest invention was the alternative to them, and thus she now was joining a force which she believed that sought to stand for such alternative. She always remembered of her parents during each day, and they were the only thing that kept her from giving up. It was harsh but she felt it would be rewarding later, both to her self-esteem and self-actualization (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Maslow%27s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg), while her social needs were already covered as although harsh in the trainings they gave, all the staff was very friendly and so was her classmates, as troublemakers simply weren't allowed to continue because a Blackguard should also stand to the highest standards of morality and never betray the ideals of direct democracy and socialism the Confederacy. They soon became like a large family. And after all those good things, there was also the, considered fair due to their hard effort and risk-taking, payment of a Blackguard Intelligence Field Agent: 5 thousands per month, mission rewards ranging from 1 thousand to even 1 million according to risk and priority and much more in benefits. Nothing would make her give up... nothing.

She simply said: "And thus, what should I do in this situation Tito?"

The man calmly replied, his voice seemed to expel the wisdom of someone who had experience in "the field" even before Third Spanish States existed:
"Sometimes the solution is just above your head! The best option for you would be to do your best effort and climb the walls as in any corridor the width is smaller than that of your stretched arms and legs, by using pressure of both your hands and feet over them as a balance and then slowly but steady move through them. Follow me and I will show you a building which simulates this situation."

She became doubtful and even skeptical, she tried to keep an air of seriousness although for her it started to seem some kind of joke:

"Is this like what the Spider Man does?", she asked, holding her will of laughing very strongly.

The man kept talking as she followed, unaware that she was not taking it seriously, as she was previously trained on how to avoid expressing certain emotions: "Where do you think those stories were inspired from? Did you not manage to roll your body 360 degrees over a tiny rod when you were 12? I am sure you'll be able to do this. And remember that once you graduate as a Blackguard you'll always have access to additional climbing equipment should you consider it necessary to take it with you. But you should be able to do it without the equipment, just in case."

"Tito, not even gloves?", she asked with an expression-less face as they reached a small building with two rooms, one being larger and another being a long corridor with a door in the middle, where the height between the ceiling and the upper part of the door was barely enough to hide a female or male over the ceiling "You enter through this door", he said as he looked at her shoes "And no gloves, or shoes or socks for this simulation."
She looked at him with a surprised stare: "What? But it will be impossible!". He quickly replied to her with a serious rebuttal: "No buts or whats, if you can't do it without any equipment at all the training won't be complete. And of course: I am not forcing you to do this as coercion is completely wrong. You can give up at any time if you think you can't handle becoming a Blackguard"

"I can and I will", she quickly replied with determination as she knelt to untied her shoes, taking off the moldy socks from her feet as well. The sweat would definitively make this very hard as it would make her stability over the walls slippery at best and almost non-existent at worst. She wasn't aware at all her training sessions were being tailored specifically for her and much harsher than those of others from her class. After approaching the wooden outside of that training building, as she entered inside the corridor, she noticed its walls were covered with a very slick and plain metal plating to make things even more difficult, she then shrugged as she could hear the footsteps of her instructor getting inside the other adjacent room from where he would watch to see if she could sneak through him. She replied:

"How many have passed in this test before me?"

He gave no answer at all and she knew it obviously meant nobody ever managed to do it. But she still tried. First she stretched her arms through the walls, which were still not completely stretched as both touched the walls. A deep breath preceded as she started to exert pressure against both walls with all the strength she had, giving her a firm hold over them as the width among them was a bit smaller than the width of her stretched arms. This action, which made her sweat even more was followed by a lowering and slight inclination of her legs, while her hands slowly turned from angle as the pressure stabilized them against the wall, and she then forced its muscles with a risky jump. In a fraction of seconds she attempted to press her feet against both sides of the wall as her body almost become in a laid down position in the middle of the air, only supported by her arms.

The strain on her muscles was very heavy as both feet landed perpendicularly against the wall and her legs struggled to exert enough pressure to maintain her body suspended, while she also had to do it with minimal noise. But it was not yet finished, the height from where her body was suspended was not yet above from the height of the door. It was them a very physically demanding and extreme experience only comparable to what an Ironman (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ironman_Triathlon) would demand, but in a shorter length of time requiring much more effort.

she slowly stopped exerting pressure through her right arm as she moved it away and a few centimeters up, now she realized what all those tiresome one year and six months of extended endurance trainings were for. If she tried something like what she was trying to do now when she arrived she would never had any chance of success. But now, with an "superhuman" effort she started to put slowly, one by one, each of her limbs exerting pressure against the wall while even her abdominal muscles were under heavy strain. It was a through much effort, where each centimeter climbed was a small great conquest, that she managed to feel her back touching the ceiling as her feet and hands were becoming a bit numb from the influence of the pressure over the blood stream and not feeling anymore the coldness of those walls. Now she instead placed stretched her right hand farther ahead while the other limbs took the strain, and repeated again the same movements for every limb, her feet landing several times on several parts of the metal walls as they stretched the best she could. It took her two minutes and half of intense physical strain, as she then simply loosened pressure from both feet which then were hanging very close to the floor, and slowly loosened the pressure from her hands as she landed on the floor, making no noise at all, she then opened the door ahead of her with her remaining forces, making also no noise when she opened it, despite several aches on her muscles. As soon as she struggled to go outside she heard from her instructor: "Congratulations, you are the first one to succeed in the hardest of all existing Blackguards training simulations! You are truly talented and your efforts are going to be very vital to our noble cause!"´

The memory faded away but the sensation of physical strain, and tiredness did not. Somehow that memory impelled her to move involuntarily and to repeat a part of the same series of movements she did once. She could see she was already hanging very close to the ceiling and above the field of view of the people from the adjacent hallway to the staircase, with her feet and hands holding her tight there. She started to struggle again like her did years ago, using the same technique. But this time there was the turning of the wall that accompanied the staircase and covered her body in the first place. She could almost hear again in her mind the voice of that man saying ´"I am sure you'll be able to do this"´ as she loosened her hand from the wall that previously served to cover her and tried to grab the other side of it with the tip of her fingers. It was another challenging effort as her left arm, stretched almost to the point of breaking, reached for the other side of that not so thick wall between the two sides of the staircase. If she did such action from a different height she would already have been spotted, but there was still another thing to do. She took an impulse of strength to started propelling her body through her legs and arms muscles of her right limbs without losing her grip from it. She could have felt on this moment. It was in a fraction of seconds that she managed to avoid falling as she slowly turned her body through the ceiling of the staircase to reach the other side, where the doors and the open way to the fourth floor were. Nobody would imagine she was passing above the door rather than through the door as she took another large struggle to continue climbing until beyond the open door to the hallway. She was about to give in as she took the last movement of her left feet to prepare to land, when she again remembered of her parents, and of how, no matter what, she have made them proud with her achievements and should continue honoring them. Both feet then started to hover very close to the floor as she slowly stopped putting pressure against the opposite sides of the wall through her hands.

It was like she had just finished an Ironman. She now had to attempt ignoring the aches of overworking her muscles so much. Each step down to the staircases, each single movement would bring her pain. The image of the placard where the message "No Pain, No Gain" was written in three different languages stroke to her mind as she struggled to avoid a single moan as she started to sneak through the next flight of stairs. There were only more four floors to sneak through. But she would not have strength to do the same thing again. As she reached the wall just behind the fourth floor, she silently sat down and took silent deep breaths for ten seconds before continuing. She then got up and leaned her head to check with her peripheral vision whether sneaking through the fourth floor would hopefully be easier... or not.

OOC: There's been very little posting recently and, due to other issues, I've actually taken over for this thread's original creator. Most of the RPers seemed to have dropped out, or only post erractically.
The fourth floor was a line of offices. Doctors, mostly, in and out, wooden doors with glass engraved with doctor names and professions. Most were out now, at lunch, but a few had stayed to work. Several of these had their doors open, so would spot anyone they detected coming past. This hall was far quieter than the noisy crush of people above, but the noises of computer's humming, TV's sprouting garbage, the scratch of pens or pencils on paper, typing and the soft murmering of doctors speaking to each other, face-to-face or over a phone. There were no guards on this level, but three doctors: Two at the end of the hall, by the stairs, talking animatedly. The third had a document of some sort in hand and a coffee mug in the other. He was heading right for the stairway which led to the fifth floor!

OOC: as I'm unsure where my character should go...
IC:

Bob walked around the main floor, unsure where to go before he decided to proceed up to the second floor. Maybe he would be able to find his room up there although he thought that it would make more sense for the rooms to be higher up. He still went up there, curious as to what could be waiting there. He was almost at the second floor and wondered if he could ask a nurse for directions.

OOC: Don't kill my character, Third Spanish States. I'm not sure what his split personalities would do to Maria but there are only two anyways.

OOC: Don't kill my character, Third Spanish States. I'm not sure what his split personalities would do to Maria but there are only two anyways.

(OOC: She won't kill him)

She could not stand it anymore and again it seemed it was her end. Her body was entirely sore, every inch of her muscles aching and she could not hide anywhere. ´"This one either cooperates or die!"´, she thought as she started to sneak above again, to a middle section of the stairs between the fourth and fifth floors. She grabbed that bloody surgical line from and stretched it, holding it with her left hand, as she was behind the wall the of the stairs the doctor was climbing. While she again drew her Glock 18C pistol with her right hand, aiming it towards the direction from where the doctor would come. And then a memory flashed in her mind, at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

´"That is not enough Maria! Your reaction time must reach 0.03 seconds". The instructor said as another of his punches landed against her face. She was feeling some serious pain and soreness as he sparred with her, she had almost 2 years of training now and she was about to enter the advanced course. Maria was again in the outdoors of the Bacconi woods, in the same training grounds of her previous memory, but this time she was wearing a kimono instead. It was the fiftieth time she did not manage to dodge a punch and she was starting to feel herself crippled, as she had, as part of her training, to remain without sleep for an entire week as well. Suddenly she let herself fall on the stone floor, and the impact of her head with it was strong enough, maybe on purpose, to put her into unconsciousness.

When she woke up again the soreness still did not pass, she was in a bed inside a nearby infirmary which was entirely covered by white walls and floor, and as soon as she opened her eyes her instructor looked straight at her and asked:
"Do you want to give up? You are not obliged to continue if you don't want to"
She replied, almost automatically: "No".
"Then get up from here and back to your training!", the man said.
"What? But I did not sleep for weeks!", she frowned
"You have to be prepared for the worst Maria, now get the hell up and beat the 0.03 seconds reaction or I'll consider that you gave up!"
Maria glared at him and shrugged "Try to hit me from here instead"

Her instructor said then "Well, you know that if you are laid down in a bed, dodging and reacting fast enough will be even harder". But she did not mind as she defiantly replied "We will see about that Tito. Come on and hit me!"
"If you insist. And remember: stay as much focused and concentrated as you can", he shrugged as he prepared to do a strike, trying to avoid giving her any hint of the exact moment he was going to do it. To his surprise the reaction time was virtually simultaneous with his movements as she leaned her torso away from his punch and grabbed his arm, pulling it towards the bed and destabilizing his body as he felt. Just as he recovered himself he answered her: "Maria! You... reacted at the same time than I attacked you! How did you manage to do that?". Which she simply replied, confused, as she thought she saw his fist coming before reacting: "No, I saw the fraction of second when you started to move your fist against me, you must be mistaken Tito!". He simply nodded: "Oh yes, when a reaction is done too fast it seems that both movements were simultaneous. And congratulations Maria, now you can sleep for as much as you wish to!", he added.
She simply smiled at him and said "Thank you for not letting me give up", a few moments later she felt asleep, being completely exhausted. The sensation of sleeping was very soothing to her after that which she believed to be her harshest week there. But somehow she had a strange dream, she could hear her instruction speaking through a phone something, but it wasn't very clear.
"...untapped potential... for the project... yes... I have... proof being sent". She did not make any sense of it by that time, but now everything started to connect, considering her untapped potential that now was awakened. And thus she continued to have other more common memories. She remembered then her childhood when all she knew was happiness, sheltered from the dark reality of the world surrounding her. She was only 8 years old, playing with six hula hoops she balanced through her boy as her school friends applauded her, she was already in a gymnastics school for 4 years by then´

As these memories passed, she was laid back to the wall of the stairs, completely unaware from her environment. The uncontrolled flashback was the provoking agent of her failure in her escape attempt as the doctor found her stretched on the stairs, wearing cotton shirt and pants, and there were several hand and feet marks on the walls close to the ceiling of the fifth floor as if someone had literally crawled through there. Her feet and hands had some signatures indicating she was the one who touched those walls, where a Glock 18C pistol was lightly landed over her right hand which had dropped its grip over it but its finger still was over the trigger guard, with a taser being kept inside her left pocket besides a bloody surgical line, while she seemed to be very sore, and there were large scarring wounds on her lips that seemed to have been the result of surgical lines that were used to sewn close her mouth, besides the red marks of the straps putted into her that were in her forehead, necks, wrists and ankles. Also her shirt had moved a bit above when she laid down there and pressed its back against the wall, revealing a set of several old scars at her belly which seemed to be originated from violence rather than surgeries, and other than those visible ones of her revealed and very fit belly with small but delineated abdominal muscles, her entire torso was also filled with scars. Her eyes were closed behind heavy and tired eyelids and she seemed to be sleeping as her light brown hair was unkempt and covered her forehead. Maybe they would attempt to contact those who brought her there now, as they gave a number to doctor Handsen should anything of critical importance or any equally strange event happen. It was a number which could not be found on any phone lists or address lists. The number was, no matter how far-fetched it seemed that such number wouldn't be a fake: (0101)777-1313.

The fate of doctor Handsen was yet to be seen...

(OOC: Could you RP that guard attending Dr. Handsen?)

Two nurses now entered the room. The guard had called for medical assistance as soon as he saw the state the Doctor was in. They picked the man up and hoisted him onto a gunney. At that moment he woke with a heart pounding scream, making the guard and both nurses jump in surprise. He sat up and looked around, then saw the empty operating table. "She, no, I..." he stared at it. "She's loose..." he whispered. "Dear God, what have I done? You," he turned to the guard, "get me my phone. Now!" The guard hurried to obey, and soon Handsen was punching in numbers, muttering to himself. "0101...777-1313. Right." he placed the phone to his ear.
Stairs between the fourth and fifth floors...
The doctor was dumbfounded. The women was obviously a patient, but she was in horrible condition! And armed, no less! He backed away, calling for help over his shoulder. Soon there was no less than half a dozen guards there. The first gingerly went to pick up the Glock while the others bent to pick Maria up and strap her to a gunney.

(OOC: Now they'll definitively think doctor Handsen went nuts)

"The number you called does not exist, please consult your phone book", a recorded voice announced as the doctor awaited for the call, unaware that this non-existent number was actually being monitored by some type of shady SIGINT division for any call that would be done to it since Maria was brought there. Some privileged people were aware of it, but for the clinic the doctor has simply freaked out due to being so much time with the crazy and due to lack of some serious vacations. Maria was just someone with an anti-social disorder, and nothing more as those strangers only told the doctor about her and nobody else. Maybe it was convenient for them that all those events should look like delusions from someone who had too much stress from his work.

Maria seemed to not react at all as she was being picked up by the guards, not even a single involuntary reaction to it. And they were probably going to be puzzled on how she managed to sneak so far without being noticed by anyone besides a single guard. Memories were still replacing her perception of the present.

´Another tiresome afternoon was about to continue, this time she was again using a tracksuit with sport shoes and felt her blood heating and sweat dripping from her body after a "preparation" with a total of 3,000 abdominal exercises of all types. Almost four fifths of her class gave up at this rate. She was starting now an advanced training as her instructor explained:

"Good afternoon Maria, today we are going to teach you how to escape from a situation where all odds are against you, should you accept this rather than giving up, which, considering how I believe in your will, won't happen"

"And what is this situation Tito? Another training which involves climbing a wall to the ceiling?", she shrugged.

"No, no! You are already quite experienced with that exercise. This time I am going to train you on how to escape from a place filled with guards armed with tasers, while being handcuffed or through another way having your arms restrained and having to fight your way through it", he said as he took a handcuff from his pocket

"Wh... what? But that is impossible!", she frowned

"You said the same about climbing those walls...", he said with a friendly smile, while several other trainers approached them, armed with real tasers. "So, when are we going to start?"
She felt intimidated by all those men and women, they were probably going to treat her as if that situation was real. And taking a shock wasn't a very pleasant experience... but as it was said, "No Pain, No Gain" and she took a deep breath as she turned her back to the instructor and putted her both hands to her back together. "I am ready, can I hurt them?"

Her instructor said: "As much as they can hurt you", as he handcuffed her brought her to inside a car, where two trainers were at the front seats and she was left alone there.

"Remember your lockpicking classes Maria? Yes... I think you did that even before starting our training", he grinned. "First you'll have to get out of this car, which will be moving through the dirt road of this training camp to actually simulate the situation of you being brought to a police department, and then run away and try to avoid being shot."

"Wait! Are you going to use real bullets against me? Are you mad?", she frowned as she saw that the men at the front seat were carrying real 9mm pistols, of the same type most police forces tend to use
"Don't worry! They were extensively trained to avoid hitting lethal areas and a bullet wound won't kill you. Now if you want to give up... you can say it to me and I'll get you out of this car!", he repeated
"Oh... why is this so hard? What's the point on getting so complicated in these trainings? I think not even the MI-6 or CIA have this type of stuff besides the standard deal of disguising, lying, persuasion, parachute training, diving and such that I already had before!", she frowned as she replied, seemingly not very happy with what was to happen. "All right... let's go".

The car was ignited and started to move as the two men at the front seats started to talk to themselves like there were cops, genuinely becoming distracted enough for her to attempt something. She slowly raised her cuffed hands, and stretched her arms high above her head as a crackling sound was heard and she felt a hinging pain as she managed to twist her arms to her front, grabbing the collar of the "cop" at her front, and starting to strangle him with her cuff chains almost as if she was going to actually kill him, as he let his weapon loose and she said "Keep moving! Drop your gun through the window or I'll kill your partner!". The trainer became genuinely scared by the scene as it seemed she would be up to kill him even though all was part of a high risk maximum realism simulation. He threw his gun through the window as instructed by her, she seemed very scary at that moment to them, as if she really cared not for what she had to do to achieve her goal at hand as she pressed the cuffs against the trainer at her front who was struggling to breath.

She then said: "Grab the gun of your partner and throw it away or I'll kill him!" in a way which did not seem to be a deception as he complied. "Keep moving! Keep moving out of here!", she aggressively shouted as she kept the chains of the cuff about to actually strangle and kill one of her trainers. And thus they moved through the place she was supposed to reach on foot. "Now open the car!", she ordered as they opened her door. She then quickly removed her cuffs from the neck of one of them and ran away as the place she should reach was just about 100 meters away. Then one of the "policemen" who was hidden nearby shot against her arm. The surge of pain was significant as it pierced through it, as those devices which supposedly simulated such pain were not perfect and were comfortable compared to that.

But the surge of adrenalin led her to keep running even with that wound as she lowered her head and concentrated on her goal, running in zig-zag random motions and trying to overcome the increasing pain as another fire was shot, but this time it missed her. There were just 10 meters for her to reach the place of escape, which on the simulation was treated as the entrance of an allied embassy, as a bullet flied straight against her torso, a few centimeters left of her heart, where only luck avoided it from hitting vital organs as she hinged from the pain and after running the last meters with an incomparable willpower which ignored her two wounds, reached her destination and goal as she felt on the ground. Numbness started to overcome her as she could her a desperate shout "Somebody call an ambulance! Now!". The pain was intense, and her breathing was difficult as she struggled to not lose her consciousness. She could see her instructor running to her and shouting as she started to fall.
"Maria! Wake up! Hold tight! Let me help you!". He said as he got down to her, checking her fledging pulsation and her bodily temperature which was dropping and unlocking her handcuffs. She wasn't sure of what happened further, as then the memory shifted to her inside an hospital, where the wounds at her left arm and near her left chest were bandaged and already treated. Her trainer Tito was waiting for her to awake as he said: "I am sorry Maria... I should not have putted you in limits nobody ever managed to surpass."

She weakly said to him, trying to smile as she winced of pain "Not a problem... Tito. When I get into the field things won't be... so forgiving and I know it".
He then shrugged: "But you could have died. And then it would be my fault only."
"Tito, I knew I was not going to die by the time I accepted it", she replied from her hospital bed.
"You knew you were not going to die? How?", he asked, surprised.
"I do not know... but I was not afraid because I could feel I would not die", she said. As she remembered from her memory, she had such intuitions about her near future sometimes, although she always imagined them to be simple matter of coincidence."´

She did not resist or struggled in any form as she was to be carried away from there, and she would remain this way for many hours as other memories carried her away from the present and further into the past.

OOC: That's some crazy extensive training...
IC:
"Hello? Hello? Is anybody there? Hello?" One of the nurses, gently took the phone away from Handsen, flipping it shut. "Doctor," she said gently, "calm down. You're a little overstressed, just relax-" "I can't! She's out, she's got powers I tell you, powers!" The guard quickly jabbed Handsen with his stun baton, and he fell, limp. "Doc needs a vacation." murmered the guard as the two nurses lifted Handsen onto the gunny and rolled him away. Right at this point half a dozen guards came though with Maria on a gunny. One of them handed the guard back his tazer. "Try to hold onto it next time, mate." Maria was returned to her previous condition, fulled with drugs. Four guards were posted with alarm buttons, two in the Observation room, two in the hall. The Glock and twine was confiscated, as well as all her clothing, replaced with a hospital gown. Handsen was confined to a room until they could figure out how to deal with his obviously insane ravings.

Xiscapia:

OOC: as I'm unsure where my character should go...
IC:

Bob walked around the main floor, unsure where to go before he decided to proceed up to the second floor. Maybe he would be able to find his room up there although he thought that it would make more sense for the rooms to be higher up. He still went up there, curious as to what could be waiting there. He was almost at the second floor and wondered if he could ask a nurse for directions.

OOC: Don't kill my character, Third Spanish States. I'm not sure what his split personalities would do to Maria but there are only two anyways.

OOC: as I'm unsure where my character should go...
IC:

Bob walked around the main floor, unsure where to go before he decided to proceed up to the second floor. Maybe he would be able to find his room up there although he thought that it would make more sense for the rooms to be higher up. He still went up there, curious as to what could be waiting there. He was almost at the second floor and wondered if he could ask a nurse for directions.

OOC: Don't kill my character, Third Spanish States. I'm not sure what his split personalities would do to Maria but there are only two anyways.
OOC: Whoops, sorry about that.
IC:
The nurse looked skeptically at Bob. He didn't seem crazy... "The second and third floors are wards for patients. The fourth floor is the Doctor's offices, the fifth is the cafeteria and rec rooms, the sixth is for patients who need special attention, and the seventh is isolation, as well as Doctor Handsen's office. Why? Are you looking for someone?"

(OOC: The Nansen Identity, if you know what I mean, and yep, she has a Norwegian surname)
When the memories faded away, she entered in a state of sleep, without noticing she was again strapped just like before.

´She dreamed of an idealistic Blackguard in an Utopian Third Spanish States, forgetting in her dream the harshness of reality, a dream where they truly cared for her and were her family. She was in a luxurious apartment of wooden panels as walls and ebony wood ceilings and floors decorated through several mosaics of wood. She looked at a wooden table which held an open briefcase where dozens of medals honored her successful missions, including for her actions to promote revolutions overseas against dictatorships and tyranny by training and aiding guerrillas worldwide, she brought freedom and hope across the world. It was a truly soothing dream as she could feel her hands getting old and her hair graying after so many years of service. She was about to retire from the Blackguards after a glorious career of almost 30 years. An heroic example for the future generations of standing for such a great ideal. It was hard, but in the end rewarding. She sat down on a wooden armchair, and turned on a 70 inches LCD computer monitor with a TV card as she sought a news broadcaster in the EDDNet.
"This news channel is restricted for Degree 4 citizens...

Operation Freedom Nine successful, the dictator of the nation of *unintelligible* was overthrown by the local revolutionary forces with the help of the Blackguards after a two years struggle. Several political analysts are being sent as the Blackguards return home, they'll help the people of *unintelligible* to establish a true democracy and we shall give them aid in creating their own Electronic Direct Democracy Network. The cause of true democracy becomes stronger today as a potential ally and ideological brother of Third Spanish States is born. Offers to join the Internationale were already sent to its citizens, and now Anarchism starts to become an ideology of strength across the world. However, this also means that we shall have many challenges in the future, as fascist and totalitarian countries will now become more and more aware of our existence.". The dream then leaped as another fictional new came:
"The Strategic Defense Project is now complete after the hundredth anti-ballistic satellite was launched into geostationary orbit high above Third Spanish States. This 35 years old project will give our nation some critical defense against intercontinental ballistic missiles in years of increasingly dangerous and deteriorating geopolitical situations as the Peak Oil crisis is predicted to start soon, thanks to the use of optical computing, advanced anti-ballistic missiles and tactical high energy lasers which can intercept incoming threats with almost a hundred percent of success chances. A new project to build large submarine fallout shelters capable of housing the entire population with our economic reserves is being voted as a complement of the Nuclear Defense Program."
And the dream leaped again, this time as she was about to sleep on a comfortable bed, with a unequaled serenity, looking at unidentifiable photographs of partners in the Blackguard in her days of field action when she was younger. Soon she slept as the dream again shifted to a single image.

It was a similar in shape apartment, but instead of a computer monitor there was an holographic projector in the middle of the room where a man of a journalist program announced as images of a massive naval battle between futuristic vessels and airplanes happened, maybe it wasn't a dream at all...

"The Confederation Resists! The first wave of invasion of the Global Community fascist forces against Algerian Communes was detained by the courageous men and women of our Navy in a titanic sea and air battle. There were heavy losses on both sides but we managed a 7:1 kill ratio. However this is only the beginning and they far outnumber our forces. In related news, the first module of the Bakunin colony ship was built by our moon orbital shipyard as we are about to witness the dawn of the Age of Space while shall lead our people to reach distant star systems, with the initial step of settling the *unintelligible* solar system where an habitable planet was located. We expect more 10 years for the project to be complete which shall be our first small but great step for freedom and for mankind."

The image displayed a massive space station behind the journalist where several robots in outer space were slowly assembling several modular parts for a future spaceship, and then the dream ended.´

Several hours have passed when she woke up and it was another day, again with little senses and a vision of nothingness, although somehow this time she could still feel her body slightly and the straps pressing it, thus was not under complete sensory deprivation. ´"There was not much to do now with another escape attempt. They probably are keeping a close eye after this one"´, her mind wondered as she thought on another way. Soon she decided to speak as she wasn't anymore with her lips sewn, the hope was that she would somehow be heard by someone reasonable there, her tone of voice was calm, certain and reasonable as she spoke:

"I do not know what exactly to say or if someone is hearing at all, and yes, I tried to get out of here, but who in her sane mind would want to stay in a place like this? I simply am not insane. I do not have any antisocial personality disorder and I would like to have a mental exam to prove it. Could you, if you are listening me, gently take me to a doctor or schedule a mental exam as soon as possible so I can 'prove' that I am completely sane? I think it would be more reasonable than to just leave me here without knowing why I was really sent to this place. And considering how the doctor who was responsible for me was, I fear that there will be nobody else who could give me permission to leave".

Maybe it was futile to do so, but she had to try it, and she wasn't insane at all in the first place, and the latest development had turned her much more calm, calculating and less aggressive than before.

OOC: Whoops, sorry about that.
IC:
The nurse looked skeptically at Bob. He didn't seem crazy... "The second and third floors are wards for patients. The fourth floor is the Doctor's offices, the fifth is the cafeteria and rec rooms, the sixth is for patients who need special attention, and the seventh is isolation, as well as Doctor Handsen's office. Why? Are you looking for someone?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm staying here. I know, I don't look like I belong here but I only remember half of the last 24 years of my life. They say I have DID, whatever that is. Do you know which room is mine?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm staying here. I know, I don't look like I belong here but I only remember half of the last 24 years of my life. They say I have DID, whatever that is. Do you know which room is mine?"
"Well, what is your name?" The nurse had her PDA out and was busy scrolling though.

"I do not know what exactly to say or if someone is hearing at all, and yes, I tried to get out of here, but who in her sane mind would want to stay in a place like this? I simply am not insane. I do not have any antisocial personality disorder and I would like to have a mental exam to prove it. Could you, if you are listening me, gently take me to a doctor or schedule a mental exam as soon as possible so I can 'prove' that I am completely sane? I think it would be more reasonable than to just leave me here without knowing why I was really sent to this place. And considering how the doctor who was responsible for me was, I fear that there will be nobody else who could give me permission to leave".
There were two guards in the room. They looked at each other. One called out tentativly. "Are you awake?"

Michael dozed off in the room, still trying to salivate through the belts holding him down. The spit had eaten part of it away, but not near enough fro him to be able to tear it. As he fell asleep, flashbacks were hitting him en masse.

(Flashback)

Michael sat in an office chair inside his bomb shelter, watching the news. Several nuclear explosions had happened nearby, killing the government. The news was repeating that the nation had fallen over and over again. His surface cameras showed people outside in pure anarchy, killing one another and looting. A rock went through one of his windows.

He stood up, grabbed an M67 from a box in the shelter, then he grabbed his trusty M-14, which already had blood spilt by it. He opened his front door to reveal a horde of people rioting. He pulled the pin on the M67 and threw it into the crowd, sending bits and pieces of people over the streets. Then he picked off any survivors with his M-14 and went back into his house.

3 years later.... (Flashback)

Michael's Bomb Shleter had run out of rations. He didn't want to go to the world above, and he believed somebody had moved into his house. He had covered the screens showing the outside world. He finally emerged from his shelter, and indeed somebody had moved in. The GWO had invaded his area, and his house was empty. The windows were mainly broken, and alot of his stuff was stolen. It turns out that the GWO had just come across the place, and a Civilian Control Officer stepped to his door. Michael grabbed his silenced USP and walked to the door. The Officer started hammering a notice to the door, and then Michael struck. He threw his fist through the door, grabbing the CCU officer by the neck and snapping the telecoms device in the process. He opened it and shot the CCU officer in the head. Since the telecoms device was broken, there was no way for the rest of the CCU to know what had happened. He took the armor from the CCU officer and put a Flecktarn helmet skin over the helmet. Michael dragged the body inside and threw it down the hatch into the shelter. He would deal with that later. He walked into his bedroom, where his Nazi memoribilia was vandalized. Someone had torn his flag, spraypainted the room, and defaced just about anything else. This was the last, irrevocable straw. He suited up in full body armor and set out under the cover of darkness...

There were two guards in the room. They looked at each other. One called out tentativly. "Are you awake?"

´"Maybe whoever is there is taking what I am saying seriously... maybe not... only one way to know"´, she thought.

She did not say much in reply as she considered wiser to simply answer such question and nothing more for now. The nothingness she saw and felt at most of her body was not anymore such a deterrent to focusing her thoughts as it was before. Maria simply replied those baffled words with a few words of her own:

"Yes, I just woke up."

Bryce held the straitjacket. "Nope, this won't be necessary," he said, but added a warning. "Be careful who you associate with, many of these patients are worse than you." He stood up and started to leave, taking the straitjacket with him. "Have a nice day." He then followed Kate out of the door and then locked it shut.

After they left, Jamie wasn’t quite sure how to feel. On the one hand, she had just been through what was, and what she certainly hoped would remain, by far the most humiliating experience of her life. On the other, the scary doctor seemed to be far more sympathetic to her now. And she wasn’t in the straight jacket.

As she pondered this, she was suddenly struck by exhaustion; she hadn’t gotten any good sleep, while not on any sort of medication, for quite some time. Though she truly wanted to wait and see about her things, she could hardly stand, and barely made it to her bed before collapsing. She slipped into sleep, strewn ingloriously with her leg hanging off the bed.

´"Maybe whoever is there is taking what I am saying seriously... maybe not... only one way to know"´, she thought.

She did not say much in reply as she considered wiser to simply answer such question and nothing more for now. The nothingness she saw and felt at most of her body was not anymore such a deterrent to focusing her thoughts as it was before. Maria simply replied those baffled words with a few words of her own:

"Yes, I just woke up."
The guards looked at each other again. "I'll get Doctor Handsen. You stay here."
"What, are you crazy now? I'm not staying here!"
"I'll only be gone a short while. Bring in one of the guards from patrol in the hall."
One guard left and another replaced him. Both looked apprehensivly at Maria.
First Floor...
Handsen was sitting with his back against the wall. He knew the only way to get out was to prove his sanity. This would not be hard, because he was sane, and only had some, as his captors called it, "misconceptions." There was a knock on the door and a guard entered. "Doctor? We heard you were stable, just a little tired. The patient has woken, and she's requesting to speak with you."
Handsen's brow furrowed. "Who? What patient?"
"One Maria." said the guard patiently.
"Maria..." Handsen felt a shock of pure terror. But while he had been in that room he had convinced himself that nothing really happened, he had just been stressed out and overworked, he had not really had the visions he had had. So he was not afraid when he was once again standing over Maria, strapped down to the operating table. "I see you have been captured." He drew up a chair and sat. "Speak with me. The guards said you wanted to talk."

"Well, what is your name?" The nurse had her PDA out and was busy scrolling though.

"My name? I know my first name is Bob but...I can't remember my last name...it's strange, everyone just calls me Bob so I guess I never really thought about my last name before."

((OOC: Its Munuson which is Uir-sounding and I don't think Bob would be a popular name in a mental hospital.))

"My name? I know my first name is Bob but...I can't remember my last name...it's strange, everyone just calls me Bob so I guess I never really thought about my last name before."

((OOC: Its Munuson which is Uir-sounding and I don't think Bob would be a popular name in a mental hospital.))
"Bob...Bob...Bob Munuson? Sixth floor, room 618. Floor seven is off-limits. Someone will be by to speak with you shortly." The nurse smiled at him. "You got it? Sixth floor, room 618."

"Maria..." Handsen felt a shock of pure terror. But while he had been in that room he had convinced himself that nothing really happened, he had just been stressed out and overworked, he had not really had the visions he had had. So he was not afraid when he was once again standing over Maria, strapped down to the operating table. "I see you have been captured." He drew up a chair and sat. "Speak with me. The guards said you wanted to talk."

´"I never expected he would recover from that..."´, she immediately thought.

It was him. She could recognize the voice easily as Handsen was there, but this time she had other plans rather than scaring him almost to death. She simply replied him, keeping her feelings about him inside herself, as she knew he must have received some real deal of money for what was done with her, but they probably already paid him for that, so if she could convince him to let her go he would do it. She simply said, in a calm tone of voice:

"Doctor Handsen, the matter is that I am simply a normal, completely sane person who got in the wrong way of some individuals with enough influence to put me here in the first place, and they even 'took measures' to avoid that I would speak to anyone here because I was really in the 'wrong way' of them", she said, while opening a bit her scarred lips from the surgical lines that were there before keeping her mouth shut, then she added: "And as I expect you might doubt it, I would not refuse a mental exam to prove what I am saying"

Maybe considering the false phone number, the lack of any contact at all from those strangers aside from a supply of that serum sent through a private airlifting company almost a month ago, there was not any reason to keep Maria there, and she somehow knew this could be the best chance for her to get out.

"Doctor Handsen, the matter is that I am simply a normal, completely sane person who got in the wrong way of some individuals with enough influence to put me here in the first place, and they even 'took measures' to avoid that I would speak to anyone here because I was really in the 'wrong way' of them", she said, while opening a bit her scarred lips from the surgical lines that were there before keeping her mouth shut, then she added: "And as I expect you might doubt it, I would not refuse a mental exam to prove what I am saying"
"I find that reality contredicts your statement on two points: One, you are most obviously not a normal human being. Getting though three floors, after being immoblizied for a years time and bearing wounds, mind muddled from sleep? That is not normal. Secondly, what is stopping these individuals from killing me or my staff once I set you free? Do not take me wrong, I sympathize in your plight, but not enough to risk my own life. I have no doubt you are sane. You could not have done what you did if you were not. However, there is nothing stopping those who put you here in the first place from murdering me and going after you next, should I decide to free you."

"I find that reality contradicts your statement on two points: One, you are most obviously not a normal human being. Getting though three floors, after being immobilized for a years time and bearing wounds, mind muddled from sleep? That is not normal. Secondly, what is stopping these individuals from killing me or my staff once I set you free? Do not take me wrong, I sympathize in your plight, but not enough to risk my own life. I have no doubt you are sane. You could not have done what you did if you were not. However, there is nothing stopping those who put you here in the first place from murdering me and going after you next, should I decide to free you."

´"He seems to afraid, after all, who wouldn't be?"´, she thought as she listened his reply. ´"Maybe I can convince him of something. The truth is I wasn't brought here because they hate me... everything now makes sense. But if I explain him the truth he'll end knowing too much to be allowed to live"´

Maria simply explained to the doctor as she asked:
"I would rather not say much about all of this. I just have to ask you: did they give you any contact, any e@mail, phone number or address?"

"Bob...Bob...Bob Munuson? Sixth floor, room 618. Floor seven is off-limits. Someone will be by to speak with you shortly." The nurse smiled at him. "You got it? Sixth floor, room 618."

Bob laughed a little, "Thank you. Munuson sounds like an Uir last name so its probably me. room 618...do I have any room-mates? Besides Jak Munuson, of course."

Bob laughed a little, "Thank you. Munuson sounds like an Uir last name so its probably me. room 618...do I have any room-mates? Besides Jak Munuson, of course."
"Not at this time, although you are scheduled to recive an patient who was recently wounded when he attacked one of the guards. Don't worry," she said, seeing his expression, "he's not dangerious. He was just a little scared and confused..."
"I would rather not say much about all of this. I just have to ask you: did they give you any contact, any e@mail, phone number or address?"
Handsen bit his lip. "They did, a phone number. Once I woke I called the number, but no one answered." He was not going to share the number with her unless she asked, understandibly embaressed.