It was hard to imagine that either the regular staff or the soldiers, who had seemed so out of place that morning, had anticipated what the patient populace had decided to do during breakfast. While the grand majority of patients had eventually decided to calm down and either escape to adjacent rooms or stay hidden under the cafeteria tables, there
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Zack knew that he'd been guilty of it before. Casting a Firaga spell on a weak monster was just cruel, wasn't it? But this wasn't about monsters, this was about people, and he'd just been beaten down, sedated, gassed, and then locked upAll for throwing a few kicks and punches ( ... )
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She stared at the door through water-logged eyes, hoping someone would pass by so she could start screaming again. It only aggravated the burning in her throat, but she had nothing better to do than complain about being mistreated. Sedation was one thing, but tear gas and a straight jacket were quite another. If the military hadn't been so gung ho to start beating civilians senseless like a bunch of excited rookies, she would never have jumped into the fray. This institute needed to muzzle its own staff before laying judgment to its patients.
Groaning, Tifa twisted her head away from the disgusting pond of bodily fluids that had grown around her. There was nothing to do but wait and hope someone came sooner rather than later to bail her out.
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The torturous chemicals, much to Sechs' resentment, made him wish he had just been sedated instead. Yet once the chaos faded along with the painful gas, Sechs found himself sprawled on the floor, battered up and blinded by his body's reactions to the airborne poison; it was to the point that he didn't resist the orderlies carry him to the nearest bathroom where nurses were feverishly cleaning up other victims of the gas attack. Sechs didn't care when his soaked clothes were stripped off while his face was cleaned up by a concerned nurse, he just wanted that damn stuff out of his system now!Once the choking and the leaking subsided, Sechs was ( ... )
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Scott's head lolled against the side of the padded cell as he sang to himself. He couldn't do much else to keep himself occupied right now, no thanks to Harry & Barry McStormtrooper at breakfast. Not only had they beaten him into the ground and sedated both him and Woody, but they had then left him on the ground to suffer the full effects of tear gas despite his already being down for the count. That was just... mean was what that was. Scott's brain was too muzzy at the moment to come up with a better word, but it seemed to fit the bill, anyway.
He sniffed in deep, wishing he could wipe away some of the residual fluid and boogers from his nostrils and upper lip. Unfortunately, the freaking straitjacket made that a bit of a problem. Seriously. This was overkill. This was bullshit. Goddamn it ( ... )
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This wasn't America's country. It couldn't be, not after that.
His mind was foggy, but he remembered fighting the soldiers. He remembered the fighting the best-that 'Allelujah' guy had been pretty into it, too-and he remembered more soldiers joining the fray. He remembered getting outnumbered and beaten, but then they'd retreated. But most of all, he definitely remembered the gas that followed the retreat.
It hadn't been lethal in the end, thank the Lord, but the very fact that soldiers had gassed a mental hospital set him on edge, sending his mind back to events he couldn't, wouldn't ever forget. The gas had set his eyes watering and his nose running, and it burned. It had felt so hard to breath, and the room (what he could see of it past the tears) had been sent spinning. He was pretty sure he'd lost his ( ... )
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