Locked in a cage *OTA, nudge to family members*

[mongrelverine]

The first sensation Daken realized when he groggily woke up was feeling cold. His shirt had been shredded in the fight with Logan and the girl with the white stripes in her hair, and he doubted if his enemies had been courteous enough to replace it. His last memory had been of claws at his throat and fingers on his forehead. Just what had that girl

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[mad_asahatter]

Since the fight in the mess hall, Ophelia had been entertaining some strange notions. She wasn't even sure what it was, this cloying, dragging, consuming feeling that was seeping into her almost constantly. There was no where to filter it, nothing to gain from it. She couldn't just release it, couldn't store it. But there was nothing to do with it.

So she figured, since it started with the nameless solider in the mess hall, she'd find something from him.

Gaining access to the brig area was a little difficult. Using her powers of persuasion, mostly just a deep sense of persuasion filtered carefully, Ophelia managed to find her way to the floor she needed and the cell block she was looking for. Empathic signatures were easy to follow in that regard.

Halting outside the cell, Ophelia sat on the floor to the side of the door, stopping to just feel for a moment. Everything was cluttered and messed up; but not like it usually was. She was finding it terribly difficult just to organise it at all.

[mongrelverine]

Daken was wondering if it was possible to die from boredom at this point. There was only so much he could take, not even being able to move around his cell. He may have been old enough to be the father of most of the team's members, but mentally he was still a teenager, and a rebellious teenager at that.

He didn't see Ophelia enter and sit on the floor, his head slumped forward as he was in a half-dozing state at this point, but it snapped back up when he heard the movements outside his cell.

A minute ticked by as he waited for whoever it was to show themselves. When nothing happened, he called, his voice annoyed and with a definite growl to it. "Quit hiding. I know you're out there."

[mad_asahatter]

It was the frustration and annoyance that made her shift; like a shiver down her spine, like a cool finger drawing over her neck and Ophelia was almost compelled to shift towards the door, leaning up to peek over the glass and peer inside.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting. She'd seen what he looked like, but she was still almost surprised at it. The tattoos, the hair, the chains. It definitely wasn't what she'd envisioned seeing. But feeling; the raw hate, the blistering fury, the simmering annoyance. That was exactly how she expected it would be.

Nibbling her bottom lip, weighing the choices of staying or skittering away, Ophelia held back from pressing her face to the glass. "Tight as tight to stop a fight, not quite sure what's wrong, what's right."

[mongrelverine]

If Ophelia hadn't been expecting to see what she did, Daken likewise felt the same way when the pale little face appeared in the window. He wondered if he had gotten a concussion at some point in the fight his healing factor hadn't taken care of, for the one on the other side of the glass looked like a being straight out of Lewis Caroll's imagination.

From the heart tattooed on her cheek to her flamboyantly red hair, Daken stared, hardly believing this could possibly be a member of the team. Her strange rhyming way of talking only added to the feral's confusion. He almost believed he was having some sort of hallucinogenic fit.

He bluntly asked, "Who the hell are you?" He wondered if the answer would come in the form of another rhyme or maybe a little song and dance this time.

[watch_the_nails]

Victor had stared at Daken as the younger man had tested the limitations of his holding cell. It was a scene with which the older feral was uncomfortably familiar, that feeling of being restrained, of being chained, and he watched with interest; the kid was trying his bonds in a very similar way to which he himself would have done, and that in itself was intriguing. In fact, there were a lot of things about the new arrival that intrigued him, and he'd hoped that by coming here, maybe his curiosity would be sated in some small way. He wanted to know more about the soldier who hadn't backed down at the sight of him

[mongrelverine]

If he could just figure out a way to break his wrist, then he could slip one of his hands out of its restraint. But how to break it, now there was the million dollar question... His thoughts of escaping his cell were interrupted by the smug tone of Victor.

Daken glared at the older mutant, standing there on the other side of the door. Freedom was right there in front of him. So close, yet so far. His first instinct was to try and stand up, face the threat. Once again, he was jerked back, his mind painfully aware of what his body still refused to acknowledge.

He settled back down, ignoring Victor until he felt a suitable length of time had passed. He already knew if he didn't acknowledge Victor, it would get under his skin. When he finally did answer, his tone was flat and bored. "Unless you're here to slide a file under the door, fuck off."

[watch_the_nails]

Daken's pointed blanking of Victor did almost get the desired effect; the larger feral's eyes narrowed as he was ignored, and he was on the verge of giving an irritated snarl when he was finally answered. He was learning to be patient, but unlike Daken, waiting wasn't something he'd ever been particularly good at. He preferred hedonism, instant gratification. He smiled, though, at Daken's tone; perhaps his words had hit home more than he'd thought.

"What's the matter, kid?" he continued. "Don't like bein' stared at? An' there was me thinkin' you wanted to be the center of attention

[mongrelverine]

If he could have moved his hands, Daken would have flipped his fingers into a very rude symbol at Victor. Since he couldn't, he settled for a frustrated growl. "I've got no problem being stared at." Victor's mocking was right about that. Daken thrived on people knowing who he was and paying attention to him.

He gestured to his cell using his head. "It's being chained up and locked in a cage that I despise." Being locked up meant Daken was no longer the one in control of the situation. He couldn't stand that, not after it had been drilled into him over and over again that he was better than everyone else around him.

[dirt_bloodsmile]

Teddy pretty well steered clear of Daken until he'd seen Victor and others milling towards the cell, and figured he may as well see if the kid was properly contained (not that he doubted he was, but curiosity is a vicious thing) and stepped into the holding cells, suddenly glad he had opted for one of the lighter set issued tank tops as the warm air hit him.
Figuring he was far enough away from the guards milling about he felt safe to approach the cell and shook his head in disgust. "It's like a fucking zoo or some shit."

[mongrelverine]

Daken hadn't seen this one before. Then again, he'd been a bit too busy to socialize with the team much beyond getting the information he needed out of the ones he had talked to. One leg shifted and slid out from the other as Daken answered. "Yeah, and I'm the man-eating lion on exhibit."

[dirt_bloodsmile]

Theodore crossed his arms, dragging his eyes to look around the kids cell and noted with some respect that the kid was all raw and lithe muscle. Still had a stupid haircut though, looked too much like those idiots he used to run around with in his younger days.
"Your the one who tried to off Bambi in the mess hall aren't you?"

[mongrelverine]

Daken shrugged as much as he was able to with his arms still pinned down. He didn't know who this guy was, but what the hell. It wasn't like there was any other pressing matter he had to take care of at the moment. "If Bambi is referring to the idiot wetback who screams like a girl, then yes, that was me."

[captaine_sykes]

The growing number of team members who had taken it upon themselves to come and visit this Daken individual was steadily growing. It both annoyed and frustrated Ethan that they seemed to think he wouldn't know that they'd come up here. For goodness sakes, this was the brig after all and of course there were security cameras monitoring the area. Idiots

[mongrelverine]

There were exactly 1,867 flyspecks on the ceiling. He knew the exact number because Daken had counted them all. Twice. His attempts to try and get out of his manacles had only served to dislocate one of his arms at the shoulder. It had hurt like a bitch before healing up, but the experience had served quiet Daken back down.

When Ethan's face appeared at the cell door, Daken only registered it in the back of his mind. Just another one come to stare the big bad mutant locked away. Then the door opened and Ethan came inside. Huh. That was a new trick.

This had to be one of those higher on the food chain, maybe even the one in charge. Seeing as how he was the one who would be deciding his fate, Daken decided cutting some of his attitude out might be wise. He nodded at the offer of a cigarette. "Sure."

[captaine_sykes]

Reaching into his jacket pocket Ethan pulls out a packet of cigarettes, he doesn't smoke anymore but he knows that in the army these things are like currency. Tapping one out he holds it close enough to Daken to take between his lips, a display of just how unconcerned he is with getting too close to Daken, before retrieving his lighter.

Once the cigarette is lit and the items placed to once side on the bench Ethan sets down a bottle of energy drink beside him as well. To anyone else it would seem that Ethan's demeanour is calm, easy going like this is just a casual chat between friends but Daken will be atune to the style of interrogation and conversation. "An assassin sent by the Japanese government to eliminate Richter for his involvement in the earthquakes that devestated Japan."

It's not a question, more of a statement but the next part is aimed to see if there's going to be a response from Daken. "I'm not sure they'll be too impressed to hear you've gotten yourself locked up and are revealing their secrets so easily. Do you?"

[mongrelverine]

Daken took the cigarette from Ethan, noting the man's apparent confidence. It was difficult to smoke without the use of his hands, but he would make do. It just required a little more dexterity of the mouth than Daken was used to.

Daken moved the cigarette to a corner of his mouth so he could speak more easily. "So you were listening to that conversation I had with the older guy earlier." He had suspected as much at the time, but that hadn't stopped him from chatting. Daken didn't bother to confirm the Captain's statement. They both already knew it was the truth.

He inhaled, smoke curling out from his mouth as the feral answered. "Does it matter? If I go back to them, they'll assume as much. At least if I cooperate, there's an outside chance I don't rot in a cell for the rest of my life."

[45825243_t78_a]

If Ethan might have been annoyed with Logan's behavior in the mess hall - and not without reason - at least he couldn't complain about him now. Logan had asked if he could see the prisoner, and the captain had let him. Which was just as well, because chances were Logan would have done it even without permission, sooner or later. Something was bugging him, making him restless. It had to be fixed.

Logan didn't announce his presence, but didn't try to pretend he wasn't there, either. Probably wouldn't have done much good anyway; this 'Daken' had so much else in common with Victor and him, it stood to reason that he'd smell Logan's arrival.

Standing outside the cell, Logan silently looked inside. He had nothing he wanted to ask or say - nothing he could put into words. Just a nagging feeling that there was something he should know, and only Daken could give him the information he needed.

[mongrelverine]

It had been a while since his last visitor, and Daken was beginning to think the novelty of seeing the mutant locked up in the brig must have worn off for the inhabitants of the camp. He wouldn't have cared, except once again, it left him with nothing to do besides stare at the walls.

Then a familiar scent reached his nose. His head snapped other faster than it had for any other person, the metal restraints groaning their protest as he jerked against them once more. He leaned forward as much as he was able to, staring at his father with hatred in his eyes.

Seeing that Logan wasn't going to start the conversation anytime soon, Daken found it fell to him to be the one to start it off. "I knew you'd turn up eventually." In fact, he'd been counting on it.

[45825243_t78_a]

The hatred left Logan cold; he was used to not being anyone's favorite person, and he did help put this guy in lockup. Had their roles been reversed, he wouldn't have been in a mood to send flowers, either. But Daken's comment that he'd known Logan was coming sooner or later, that annoyed him, and his eyes narrowed a little. He hated being predictable. Perhaps because he so often was - to everyone but himself.

"Yeah? What made you so damn sure?"

[mongrelverine]

"Your curiosity won't let you leave me alone. You know next to nothing about me while the same can't be said vice versa." There was a smug tone to Daken's voice. He wasn't going to be laying his cards out on the table anytime soon, not while he could help it.

His head tilted as he got his first good look at Logan. There hadn't been much time for observation during the fight, but the more he looked, the more Daken realized with distaste that there was certain resemblance between the two of them even he couldn't deny, especially around the eyes.