the last of the last [active/closed]

[allthekeys]

Who: Nahollo and ???
Where: [redacted]
When: Night 003; late
What: Experimentation
Warnings: Experimentation, surgery. Same general stuff as the rest.

Comments

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo had watched the other six get dragged away. After the first had been returned, any thought of raising a fuss, of making any kind of noise, had left him. The longer he had been forced to sit here, the longer he had felt an unfamiliar emotion simmering and stirring, something that was far more familiar to his past selves, but foreign in his current life.

Anger. Not irritation, not annoyance, not offense, but rage, the kind that suffused his whole being, consumed his thoughts.

Nahollo shifted his stance- he might not have had his sword or his powers, but he was hardly going to give them an easy time of it. Where rage might have clouded the mind of another person, sitting there and being forced to watch others get dragged off to suffer had turned it to a cold rage, as much a weapon in its own right as his sword.

Nahollo did not take the suffering of others lightly.

[allthekeys]

They ignored the shift in his body language, in his stance, and the two stepped forward, in perfect unison, like soldiers trained to do their duty. Perfect order, perfect symmetry. They approached him, reaching out to grab him, intending to lift him up. They could not care less if he resisted. It would be futile, like all the others' attempts.

The other two stood guard, blocking the door.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo kept his distance, dropping to the ground and rolling to one side. He was shorter and lower to the ground than these- things- and it meant He had at least that small advantage. He was not going without a fight, and moving so that he was further to one side would make it more difficult for both to attack him.

[allthekeys]

He may have some advantages, but they had others-- they were impossibly fast, impossibly strong, and their stamina seemed to know no bounds. The third enters the cage, the fourth remaining to block the door off completely and effectively.

The three closed in on him, pressing in to corner Nahollo.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo growled in the back of his throat, assessing the situation and finding no real way out. If he'd had his sword, had his powers- but maybe there was still a way. He stood, wary and defensive, in the corner. Maybe if he didn't offer more obvious resistance his hands would be free.

[allthekeys]

They didn't seem to react, one way or the other, to his sudden stillness, to his defensive posture. No, they just kept surging forward-- they grabbed for him, lifting him unceremoniously off the ground, what must have been arms wrapped around his middle.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo almost yelped in surprise- whatever he was expecting, this wasn't it. He reached for the mask on the nearest one, trying to grab it and pull it off. After all, if they were wearing masks, they probably needed them for some reason, right?

[allthekeys]

And yet somehow, even that left them unresponsive. Despite their firm grip on the boy, and thus their obvious tangible quality, he could not connect. For all it was worth, the masks could not have been there.

One brought a hand up to grab his wrists, effectively ceasing his struggles.

They turned to carry him bodily out the door.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo growled softly, staying still. His early life had given him a strong dislike for needless struggling. His fighting style centered around waiting for his opponents to give him an opening, after all, and this wasn't that different- even if it was a battle of wits. He'd do his usual thing, waiting with alarming passivity until the chance presented itself.

And then he would do his level best to scour them from this place.

[allthekeys]

The passivity was almost well received-- almost. But, as usual, they did not show much outward response. But he did make things easier for them, if nothing else.

They carried him silently away from the cell, and brought him into a pristine lab-- or, perhaps, an operating theatre.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo tensed, eyes going wide as he looked around. He knew the look, the smell, the feel of places like this, too-pristine, too-sterile- and he did not like them.

Shit- shit! Nahollo swallowed nervously, forcing himself to breathe evenly and not in the panicky, shallow gasps that instinct told him was appropriate here.

[allthekeys]

The quickened heart-rate and breathing did not change their demeanour here. Forcefully, they moved him into the centre of the room, two pressing him down to an open-backed bench (more just supports for his head, arms and lower body), while the other two began to lift restraints. Quite heavy ones, considering his fear and his power.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo tensed further, trying to pull away. He did not like this idea- not in the least. The teenager snarled something uncomplimentary and defiant in Choctaw, trying to twist free.

[allthekeys]

Still they did not heed his insults or his frustrations. He slowed them down only slightly by making their job easier, and they forced him down on the operating table, the other two moved to quickly start the process of snapping large metal clasps over his limbs.

[mercyforcruelty]

Nahollo growled wordlessly, right hand clenching and unclenching as he tried furiously to call his sword- anything to get out of here, even scrabbling for some sense of a lifespan to grab and hold, searching for some kind of leverage or threat to use against them, something to get him out of this situation.

Nothing.

He'd never not been able to grab a lifespan since he Awakened, and the fact that he couldn't do that- that was nearly as terrifying as the rest of the situation, in a slower, creeping horror sort of way. It was enough to make him go still for a moment, eyes wide.

[allthekeys]

Ever tenacious, the beings took full advantage of the brief opening of recurring stillness, and completed their task of strapping him firmly into place. Only his torso remained unsupported and unrestrained. They stepped back, and seemed almost to be admiring their work for a brief moment before one turned away, picking up a pair of clean scissors, and passed it to one still in front of Nahollo.