Sean stumbled in behind the others, red hair mussed and bruises on his face. He'd been at work when they'd grabbed him, minding his own business and making a fresh pot of coffee when soldiers had stormed in, guns drawn and pointed in his direction. Never having been one to use his power on regular humans, Sean had given himself up quickly. The last thing he remembered was being hit on the back of the head and falling into blackness.
He moved quickly amongst the others milling around, both hoping and dreading seeing a familiar face. He moved among the cells, trying to find one in even a small bit better repair than the rest.
"Watch yourself kid." The low rumble of a mutter almost sounded like it was emitted form his chest, the little human was bloody-- smelled it too-- got roughed up-- like they all had. Frost hadn't stayed damaged for long; healing with that inhuman ability-- that is till they managed to clamp the fucking lash around his neck. Everything had stopped, the hunger was still there but he wasn't able to bite into flesh, not able to use those same predatory senses. He'd been enraged-- and then he had been unconscious.
Shuffling in behind some ginger brat he tried to snap the chains so tightly bound from wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle-- but he was rendered less-- rendered human. The most disgusting thing of all.
Sean rolled his eyes without looking back. Without knowing how bad he was injured, getting into a fight was the last thing he should do. Every comment that came to mind in response to the person's growl sounded sarcastic even in his head so he shrugged and glanced behind him. "Sure."
He was surprised at the shortness of the brunette behind him, but after a second of consideration, Sean decided that this was not someone to mess with, regardless of height. There was just a look in the blue eyes that Sean was not keen to.
Killing was easy, human or vampire, but Frost wasn't a fool-- he had no desire to kill any of the prisoners here-- not now anyway. They were a means to an end for him, a route to escape. He would be allowed freedom from imprisonment with others-- had to rely on others no matter how much he hated it, for the simple fact he didn't doubt every one of them was something different, stuck as a human, thanks to those fucking collars.
Sean looked around at the guards, studying them for a moment before nodding. "They have a false sense of security. Probably thinking that without our abilities we'll be easily managed." The smile that crossed Sean's face in no way would be considered normal for anyone that actually knew him. "They'll find out otherwise."
Tate wasn't usually social. He liked the quiet -- he liked to think about things. Birds, maybe. He liked birds. They could fly away when things got bad. Wandering almost without a purpose, only because he had to, he brushes up against the red-headed boy by accident. He was usually so aware of his surroundings, so awake, but he was half gone, thoughts and ways of escaping forming in his head.
He was tall, but his slouch was more visible than usual, his jumpsuit crinkly and dirty. His neck scratched at because he fought it. Bruises make shadows around his face and neck more visible; dark purple and a gross blue mixing around his eyes and cheeks. He doesn't look at Sean when he speaks up.
"No one knows how it happened, do they?" His voice is low and steady, and he honestly doesn't sound bothered by what's happening at all, but it's just a facade.
Sean took a glance at the speaker, wincing at the amount of bruises marking the visible skin. Sean himself had been luckier, though it might have been the fact that he had been compliant and mostly unconscious up until the time he'd been stripped and given the hideous jumpsuit. He stretched out his arms up before lowering them to cross behind his head. Sean moved his eyes from face to face, more to keep an eye on the rest of the prisoners milling around than anything else. "I haven't talked to anyone yet, but I don't think anyone knows."
He looked again at the blond. "I'm Sean, by the way."
Tate frowns, mostly to himself. He hadn't expected any sort of helpful answer out of anyone around him, but just knowing that no one knew what was going on was unnerving. He didn't mind the bruises for the moment, he was too distracted with everything else.
"Tate." Now he actually looks at Sean, "What did you do?"
"I had the luck to have been born with extra gifts. For people like these, " he nodded at the guards milling around, "that's enough." It wasn't the first time Sean's powers had gotten him into a situation like this, but he had a feeling that this time wasn't going to be near as quick or as merciful as the last.
"You think this is really about people with 'gifts'?" Because he had a few gifts of his own, and no one really knew about them besides the ones who reside in the house.
He moved quickly amongst the others milling around, both hoping and dreading seeing a familiar face. He moved among the cells, trying to find one in even a small bit better repair than the rest.
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Shuffling in behind some ginger brat he tried to snap the chains so tightly bound from wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle-- but he was rendered less-- rendered human. The most disgusting thing of all.
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He was surprised at the shortness of the brunette behind him, but after a second of consideration, Sean decided that this was not someone to mess with, regardless of height. There was just a look in the blue eyes that Sean was not keen to.
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"Guards look feisty."
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He was tall, but his slouch was more visible than usual, his jumpsuit crinkly and dirty. His neck scratched at because he fought it. Bruises make shadows around his face and neck more visible; dark purple and a gross blue mixing around his eyes and cheeks. He doesn't look at Sean when he speaks up.
"No one knows how it happened, do they?" His voice is low and steady, and he honestly doesn't sound bothered by what's happening at all, but it's just a facade.
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He looked again at the blond. "I'm Sean, by the way."
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"Tate." Now he actually looks at Sean, "What did you do?"
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