⊗001 [Intro] [Audio//English] [Open Commentlog]

[worstone]

[The comm. clicks on and there’s low thumping, like someone tapping it.] This stupid thing even working? Professor Monroe. Grey? Hello?

Dammit. Last I remember… [Last John remembers, he was lying in the snow holding his head, sure the pain was going to kill him. Now he’s in some sort of containment facility with a communicator, sort of like the ones

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[lamortdeshommes]

[Isabella is wandering around, arms full with fabrics and pillows from Deck 12. A few decks higher now, she smells the smell of burning flesh, something she's smelled before and could never forget. Dropping her armful of fabric, she took off towards the smell, hissing as the smell increases in intensity.

Why she's running towards the fire, she'll never know. But something tells her there may be something she can do.]

[worstone]

[Running away from said fire (or fires, to be precise), is the person who started them. Exhaustion is really hitting John hard now and he appears as though he might pass out at any given moment, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. He's never felt exhaustion like this, but he imagines it's probably what marathon runners feel like. He stops and leans his shoulder against a wall. His body seems to ache all over...

The things he's seen in this facility don't do much for him, either. That giant robot thing, the other mutants... What kind of person is this Stryker dude anyway? Turning mutants against their own kind?

However fatigued, even through the sweat dripping into his eyes, John can still make out the form of a woman coming down the hall. He gathers up what strength he has left to stand erect again and summon a flame from his lighter into his shaking hand, which he holds defensively in front of him.]

St--stop! Get away! [His shout sounds strangled, even to him.]

[lamortdeshommes]

[Isabella isn't scared of the lighter- yet. But the man holding it is clearly frightened, and a frightened human is a dangerous human. Putting her hands up in a passive defense, illustrating that she had no weapons, feet planted.]

Calm!

[She forces all of her will behind the Command, hoping that it will catch long enough for her to find out what the issue is.]

What has you so upset?

[worstone]

[John's almost confused by the way the woman speaks to him, as though she doesn't know. He very nearly explains everything immediately, but he just takes a step back and glares at her, repeating himself with hopefully more resolution. When a second person shows up, that only helps to solidify his confidence.]

I said get away!

[He wills the fire from the lighter into his palm and it swirls there weakly. He's trying to muster the strength and concentration it will take to fire it at them, but he's having trouble.]

[lamortdeshommes]

[Isabella shoots her arm out to keep the newest member of this convention from moving any closer. Her other hand stays up in front of her, to keep the kid at bay.]

We're staying here. Now CALM DOWN!

[Her eyes snap to the fire in his hands. Is this a Tremere?]

[worstone]

[John simply holds the fire in his hand, almost struggling to sustain it. Why can't he make it go? The weakening of his power puts even more fear in him and makes him angrier. This is all that mutant-hating Stryker's fault. He's going to die here under this stupid lake because of that asshole. At least, this is all his assumptions and his heightened emotions allow him to intensify the fire in his palm, just a little.]

Bullshit. That's all you anti-mutant sickos want to do is hurt us. Sorry, I'm unhurtable.

[Of course, his appearance doesn't do much to support this statement; he's ragged and exhausted and there are injuries on his arms where his sleeves are torn and burned from his battles against the tiger and the other mutant.]