Topic: Drifting in Purgatory

Mach

Date: 2016-04-08 13:34 EST
37 Dardensrow

The flight into Kerns Mordarte was less than pleasant for the schmooze. A day after his sentencing (with a night spent in a less than comfortable brig with a canvas cot and four walls to while away the time) he was taken by air transport to the city of Odelna where he was transferred to an airship. It was most certainly not by his choice to travel by airship given his last encounter with them (mostly involving escape from said vessel during a firefight as it was plummeting from the sky) but it was the only way on or off the small tower of rock which was the prison facility that rose from the ocean off the west Deganback Coast. The region was known for it's harsh winds that made it hard to approach for helos and airplanes while the waters along that jagged coast of bluffs and spires was tumultuous at best preventing any sane naval vessel from sailing over close less they wished to be torn asunder. It was an isolated hub surrounded by natural extremes which kept the dangerous populace contained as well as helped power the runes that dampened the ether within those confines. A perfect place to house your most dangerous and magical sorts....an end destination for any number of the hunters own prey.

Unloading from the small airship in his danger orange prison jumpsuit (all of his possessions were kindly checked and sealed ahead of time in a lock box container to be stored not anywhere near him) the man was immediately escorted to an isolation room in the medical wing of the penitentiary where he would spend the first month or so of his sentence recovering the rest of the way from his injuries. On top of the recovery for the surgeries he endured to remove his MPC he received additional care and recovery time for his amputated arm after the intense arcane scrubbing done of the remaining magic which was seared into his very flesh from the blow back from that last spell he cast. As well, he got an easy implant of a trainer eye in his empty socket so he could keep up conditioning of his ocular muscles until it was decided what would happen to him after his little stint here. It all was dependent on the review board findings whether he would be getting another spell eye as a hunter, a tech eye as a plain soldier, or a shiny marble to tide him over while he tried to convince the V.A. that a discharged bum like him needed good depth perception to function in the civilian world. And so like a narcissist he got to spend a few hours of each day in front of a mirror watching as moved and flexed the dot in the middle of the trainer eye. This was on top of the other physical therapies and strenuous conditioning he endured so he was in top fighting shape, as it were, before his release into the general prisoner populace.

During this time, when he wasn't recuperating or conditioning, the man worked his charms and friendly personality to get on good terms with as many prison personnel and staff as he could; talk them up and grow real friendly with those who may be the only kind faces he was likely to see over the next few months. Of course it wasn't like he had anything better to do besides given his complete cut off from the outside world. No personal items, messages, mail, calls, or visits were permitted while he 'acclimatized to the culture of the prison' and even now as he finished his last check up and the refreshment of his buzz cut did he receive any hint or clue whether the outside world knew or cared about his fate. It was really for the better that way; for the schmooze to pass on into obscurity without any sort of hullabaloo or fuss. The sort of end where he just faded from folks minds; where no one grieved for the passing that was all together easily avoided had he not, per usual, cocked things up in past.

That was the view he at least worked on believing though a niggling part of him couldn't help but think he'd gotten everything wrong again; that all those folks who told him to just live for the moment might actually have something....might. But try as the man could he just couldn't get past that looming doom that sat ever before him, that engulfed him in a negativity that he just couldn't shake out of on his own. And this was only personified by the situation he now faced, by the hopelessness that spread out before him in the form of row after row, column after column of concrete cells eight foot cubed without windows or internal lights. A mage prison where the very air felt dead, inhospitable thanks the to near complete absence of the thrum of the ether from this place.

Being lead along in shackles the other inmates shuffled to get a gander at the fresh meat that was being brought in. A stockpile of the most villainous and crazed of psyzards and madscis; of folks who not only used their abilities against the law, but reveled in the power that they could wield and the affects they could make with such. It was a shining example of why the hunter program existed in the first place; to protect a non-powered society from those crazed and hungry for more of that beget and perpetuated by power beyond the ilk of common man. A program to tame against nature, to prevent the rise of a totalitarian state based off of social Darwinism where victors of conflict heavily favoring the strength possessed by those of magic and mad science dictated what justice would be. Or simply stated to prevent, as Mach was learning, a place just like Rhy'Din from rising up in Tanga. Though in defense of that trans-dimensional city there was so much staggering power spread across so many odd ideals and ideologies with a healthy lacking of social cohesion and political pressures that it was really more just an anarchy than a totalitarianism. But it was one ruled by might nonetheless....hell, the place dispensed titles of governance and control of regions based off of arena duels!

Shuffling along the man did his best not to let his gaze settle on any one individual for too long while still trying to gather as much information as he could on the different folks locked in there with him. There was a murmur, a thread of tension in the air as the mob sized up the schmooze, racking their memories for any information they may have on him....hey, the community of Class A powered offenders wasn't, luckily, a huge one! But then this fact only worked to Mach's disadvantage as those mutterings began to grow in volume, a few light bulbs going off over some of the other tenets heads. It wouldn't be till he was mounting the steps to the third floor that he began to hear the coming rush. The comments of 'Isn't he..' or 'I thought he...' slipping back and forth between cells before one voice finally rose up.

"You're Mach....you're a hunter!"

That was the match that lit the powder keg, that had the walls of caged people bursting to angry life as they howled viciously at the hunter amongst them.

"...it's the fault of your kind that...", "....YOU PUT ME IN HERE...", "....we're going to have fun with this one...", "I'm going to gut you you...", "....you're Blackjack, you right son of a...", "....you ruined me life!!! All of you pigs that...", "...Revenge....REVENGE!...", "....Hunt him! Kill him!...", "...Monsters!!...", "....Murderer!!...", "...where's your judgment now!"..."

It was a deafening cacophony that the man tried his best to ignore, his shoulders squared and his head held high in defiance of that tide of vitriol that washed over him. Now was not the time to cower or look small. No, now was the time to bluff like hell and hope for the best as he stepped into his cell; the yells, both from the inmates and the guards telling them to shut up, lasted well until his little company finished removing the shackles from him, the cell door sliding shut with a satisfyingly heavy thud. Turning about now that lone cobalt gaze set about the block across from the one he was in, a sea of faces running through the gambit of emotions from rage to fear to uninterest. That....that was a good thing. That for just as many people who jeered and called for blood there were those who feared him for what he had been or simply didn't pay him any ill will. Or else they were the calmly plotting sorts that would devise a devious plan to inevitably eviscerate him in a shower....hey, he was amongst a crowd of madsci. Regardless the man couldn't help but let out a shaky sigh as he stepped back to sit on the simple bunk that was bolted to the wall, his expression stony as he considered his future prospects. "Welcome home Mach....your eternal reward..." A mirthless mutter as he slipped along the lines of the bed further back into what little privacy his cage afforded him.

Mach

Date: 2016-04-14 07:36 EST
4 Holensred

Wow, my left hand writing is crap! And I was pretty good with this ambidextrous thing too, maybe I've been glued to tech for too long. Guess I'll need to practice since paper and crayon is what I've been given to help me while my life away in this shithole. So yeah, since I draw like a retarded 5th grader you decided it'd be a great idea to journal instead. HA! Balls no, this was totally Dr. McPoopfaces inspiration for therapy and yeah, nothing better to do. Maybe I'll get a chuckle out of this as I go along. Probably not.

So anyway! Hasdort they moved me to an end cell so prisoners no longer walk in front of my little abode for things like yard time and meals and stuff. Guess they got tired of providing me with a mop and to clean up all the spit in my cell. Picking a fight with one of those said spitters probably helped that decision along too. Seriously, who reaches an arm into a cage with a dangerous animal!" Stupid fuck was just begging for me to grab him and bounce his head a few times into the iron bars! (Rolands K. 578394)

Anyway, after sending that bastard to the infirmary the prison pop seems to have become weary towards me. It's a good sort of fear that I need to capitalize on if I have any hope of not being dead before my times up. Of course this is easier said than done since I'm in partial prison isolation not allowed to go to meals or the yard or anything like that. Punishing me because the wardens are afraid the prisoners will rip me apart if given have the opportunity. Totally likely outcome but the longer they hold me in here the weaker I look and it'll be that much harder a struggle to gain the fear and respect of the others in here and that will just get me killed in the long run. Not that I imagine any of the uppity ups give a crap if that happens, just so long as I survive a month or so, long enough not to become some major investigation or front page headline when I kick it.

Good news (") is that Bell is coming on out here in a couple of days with a temporary prosthetic I can use. Twice the hands, twice the amount of hurt I can deal before I go down to shivs. But more important this should make the wardens happy, give me a fair shake and a fighting chance in the game here. Not often I get either of those, but no matter what I really need them now. The hell with dying in prison because some purity dicks got uppity because I don't hold to the party line that anything not human is evil.

Anyway, time for mid-afternoon workout. Just because these dips don't give me yard time doesn't mean I can't keep in shape. I'll scribble in ya later.

P.S.

Any of you guards or staff reading through this make sure that you quote me verbatim when purity asks you the contents. Maybe flip them off too, just once, for me. Thanks and toodles!

Mach

Date: 2016-04-21 15:13 EST
7 Holensdred

Mach tried his best to ignore the vitriol laden shouts from Rolands who was strapped to a gurney a few curtained cells down. Half because there were only so many combinations of f-bombs and death threats he could find the will to care about and half because he was afraid he'd burst into laughter at any given moment because of how funny all that venomous rage sounded distorted, muffled, and wheezy through the man's broken nose. It was almost comedic for those with a really twisted senses of humor which, of course, meant such was right up the schmoozes alley but the medical staff seemed to take a rather dim view of such as they kept an eye on both patients. But then neither of them would have been in their respective situation had Rolands not started going ape when Mach was lead into the infirmary....or if the schmooze hadn't opted to provoke the man with a few choice comments about the improvement of his looks.

By the time Bell made it through the umpteenth security checkpoint Rolands had simmered down some loosing that vim for verbal expulsion though he still occasionally stir himself up a minor outburst of colorful exposition about what he was going to do to Mach. The last one about the schmoozes intestines and a roving game of Pidyr garnering a quirk of brow from the doctor as they assumed the position for that very last check while he was keyed into the hunter's medical cell, a sardonic smile hanging on his lips. "I see you've been speedy as always in making new friends"

"What can I say, I have a very magnetic personality?" A dirty grin of his own welcomed the madsci as the two men shook hands, the box underarm shifted from one side to another so as to accommodate the hand choices Mach had left. He noted an ever so slight thrum of tension in that grasp as the cell door clamored shut behind the man with the familiar sound of magnetic driven bolt locks sliding into place. It was an understandable reaction given that this place was, in reality, meant for people just like him " madscis and unapologetic ones at that.

"You know faces aren't ferromagnetic Mach?" A mild chuckle escaped the man in their mid-thirties, walnut hair combed in a part atop of handsome, clean shaven features. Dressed in a checkered print button down tucked into khaki slacks it was almost a complete role reversal to how they'd been four years prior where Mach was the one in their shoes and Bell was the madman with a buzz cut, well past five stubble, and slapped into a danger orange onesie.

"Oh, but stupidity is in high enough concentrations. Little known fact, yeah?" The two shared in a chuckle that seemed hallow in timber as the other looked over the schmooze who had been their salvation brought down so low. On their first meeting Bell tried to melt the hunter's face off when he had tracked him do so as to arrest them. Nearly succeeded too but Mach was just a little quicker on the draw, a little craftier on the dodging though he still suffered no small amount of getting his stuffing kicked out by a legion of abominations the unchained madsci had created. And even after they were captured they proved to be no small headache to Mach with their rhetoric and devious attempts at escape. But despite all of that the hunter did what he apparently did best: lied through his teeth, and for the benefit of the one who had just tried to cook him. The schmooze filed one fancifully interpreted report after another until Bell was given a chance to go through the work redemption program and the rest was history' which, as always, had a way of biting the schmooze in the ass when he discovered who his new tech supporter would be.

"I imagine this is a phenomena only you are acquainted with given the high density of stupid that naturally permeates around you." Mach smirked at the little jab, lone cobalt blue following the others movements as they set down the security box they'd been carrying about so as to grab a pair of gloves which to examine the remaining stump of the hunters limb.

"Are you suggestion stupidity is additive" I bet if you can prove that someone might give you a nice little prize." And it was the schmoozes turn now to grin as he rolled up the sleeve of that orange jumper, the remnants of the arm presented to the other for inspection. The runes which had been carved squiggly and squirming along his flesh a few months back were long gone now leaving nothing but healthy looking arm behind" or two thirds of one at least. Bell turned the limb over and about as they inspected it with a satisfied nod.

"It's healed up nicely. Doesn't look like there's any residual burn in from that spell blowback, not even on your bones from the last x-ray." Turning the limb another way a touch of tension worked into that pleased expression pulling it taught. "No improvement on the neurological damage I take it?"

Mach hadn't even realized that the man was pinching and twisting his remaining forearm until they turned it so he could see. Even then, what little he did feel now wasn't quite right. It had a muffled and disjointed quality to it, dreamlike even as he knew and understood that that should hurt but his body just didn't seem to understand the notion or the appropriate reaction. Rather than dignify the observation with an answer the schmooze just shrugged. "Maybe I'm just trying to wake up, yeah' Find myself on a beach somewhere with a mojito in hand, ciggy in mouth, and a smoking babe strutting out of the surf in a bikini that just screams 'scandalous??"

"Well at least your imagination is fully intact." A soft chuckle as they shifted his arm once more, a pressure felt now as he was already self-conscious and concentrating now on the arm. Another subtle neuropathy test as the other repeatedly traced something on his arm which once he recognized it had the schmooze shooting a wary look to the doctor.

"Really' A dick?"

Bell just smiled friendly as they finally released his arm. "Thought I'd go for a shape that your rather familiar with."

"Gee, you're sooo thoughtful." A roll of eye in sardonic response to the others touch of fun though the glib disinterest faded as he saw the man moving now to retrieve that secure container the size of a large shoebox. "So that my temp limb' Looks a little small to be a robot pincer."

A dry snort escaped the other as they turned the box about, fingers working on the locks as he spoke. "Yes, thoughtful?" A quiet tension held to their voice as they spoke, the schmooze recognizing those signs of uncertainty which plagued the other. It was the same sort that had him working to ignore the unsaid comment that floated between the two, the question and topic that he most certainly didn't want to dwell on even though they both were thinking it. The cause for that neuropathy, that it was very likely a symptom of his worsening disorder from magic exposure which was not so slowly stealing the life from him. A sign that things might be taking a turn for the worst and shouldn't be ignored yet this was exactly what Mach intended to do and Bell, despite all his concern, felt obligated to play along even though they likely didn't agree with it in the least. But then if it became widely known how bad off the schmooze may or may not have been then that would seal his after prison fate with a medical discharge and friendly don't let the door hit you on the way out from the U.T.R.A. which wasn't something Mach could afford to see happen and Bell knew that. So they just sort of malingered in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before the madsci cleared his throat. "Ahm, sorry, no. No robo-hand for you. Figured the interface might be a little hard for you to figure out. Besides, we had something that fit the bill much better."

"Oh?" This actually intrigued Mach as adjustable fit temporary prostheses for mid forearm amputations usually didn't come in any flavors of functional but he was sure Bell had mentioned that this would be a working limb. Watching with curiosity that last snap was undone, the lid lifting up to reveal the new limb to him"

Or in this case the oldish limb as the gunmetal black forearm that sat nested in foam was very familiar to the schmooze as evident by the frown that tugged on his lips. It was the the prosthetic limb Ammy Spiritor had made for him during his last days in Rhy'Din months back. "You've got to be kidding me."

Bell smiled thinly as they pulled the fine crafted limb out from the case and set it down on the tray table next to the gurney that Mach reclined upon prompting him to scoot a little from the possessed limb. "Oh come now, I thought you would be ecstatic. A present from one of your friends back in Rhy"Din and a fully functional prosthesis in one?"

"That tried to rip the boob off the woman who gave it to me before proceeding to try and murder me" and then succeeded in killing a pack of cigarettes, knocking over a tin of cookies, and dismantling the bed remote to my gurney which I got in some serious shit for! That thing is a menace!"

Despite his complaints the other just continued on with the unpacking as they removed the foam which the arm had been encased so as to start pulling out a few more objects: a box of golf pencil sized sticks, a really long glove, and a squeeze tube of unmarked contents" none of which helped in the least to calm his fears! "Yes but back then your arm was an arcane mess of natural runes, burnt in magic, and Taj knows what sort of neurological signaling" if this thing works off of neurological signaling to begin with. Interesting piece of tech this, an almost literal black box."

A dirty snort escaped Mach though he did mildly remember Ammy saying that it could have been something like that or another too. "Wait' you've had it for more than a month and you don't know how it works?"

Those words seemed to sting as the controlled madscis expression thinned just a little with hurt pride. "Well, we still wanted it working after our analysis so it's not like we could do a deep probe of it. Just enough to know whether it could be dangerous?" Bell, having had too much practice dealing with Mach, simply continued through his rather audible throat clear. "...beyond just it's reactivity to your control over it. Good thing we followed protocol and worked with this thing in The Bunker....had a nasty little virus program that tried to spread and play havoc if only it wasn't in a sealed and tech isolated room. Also seems to be powered by some crystals that have rather impressive exothermic reactions when damaged....well, one now at least."

Mach just blinked at the man and their explanation, a moment taken to digest everything. "Wait....this thing can explode!?" He eyed the limb with even more apprehension now, finally noting the zigzag lattice of rune inscribed metal that now weaved over the arm with the occasional pin working into the arm itself. That was very much a Tangian magical seal against arcane and tech interference. The blue LED lights seemed to have also been turned off as well as a seamless plate attached over the LCD blocking the man from accessing it save for a red button in the middle which he ventured was so he could still get to the release function. It seemed the R&D division of madsci's proved at least a competent enough foil for the advance tech....at least so as they could modify it a little.

"It takes a lot of input energy to trigger the detonation of the crystal. I'd try not to be in the basement of this place were it to collapse atop of you but otherwise you should be fine. The arm seems like it'll run for a few years at least even with just the one crystal and after we dog tamed it we found no hints of an overload program."

He was sure he didn't want to know but that didn't stop him from asking. "Dog tamed...?"

"Yes. The integral protection virus; part of it's first processes is to mock the invalid user with a laughing wolf face on your terminal. Took a team of our finest crackers, an antiquated arcane computing system, and Melkenar's Shadow to finally beat down the virus and get into the underlying system. We've actually kept a copy of the virus in an isolated system to probing and investigation."

"Ah..." A drab tone of disinterest even though one part of what the man said made the hunter's neck hair stand on end. "....Wait, Melkenar's Shadow....wasn't that a rogue AI created by Bann Melkenar used in the....the..." Fingers snapped as he racked his mind for the information.

"Telemon City Hostage Situation?" Mach pointed as Bell provided that helpfully....right before the hunter's expression sank at the realization. This didn't seem to phase the man as he simply continued on. "Yes, one and the same though we've long since grown to control Melkenar's Shadow....though that doesn't mean it does any work outside of The Bunker. But it seems quiet content in it's new role of breaking any problem tech we bring in from arrested esoteric scientists. Anyway, the main point is is that we've thoroughly tested this and investigated this arm and it is one hundred percent safe."

The schmooze shot the other a withering look before turning his attention back to the prosthetic in question. "Except when it's not."

"A reaction to your backlash probably. Anyway, the funding I had to make you a temp prosthesis since you are technically on suspension was paltry. You really would have ended up with just a hook if I crafted something with just that. So instead I called in some favors with R&D and admin to get you approved to use this fully built, tailored, and functional prosthesis."

Mach let his apprehensive gaze wander between the man and the limb a few times, pondering over his options as non-existent as they were. There was no guarantee he'd make it through this, through all the fights and folks targeting him, if he had a prosthetic hand which to help him defend himself with. But it was far better crap odds of pulling such off than if he just had a decorative arm or no prosthesis at all. But then again a possessed limb strangling him happened to make his odds of survival really, really bad as well. "Okay....so I don't really have a choice....what about it's bizarre behavior" I mean, I like to grab ass and strangle me as much as the next guy or gal but come on."

Bell was already working on scrubbing his stump clean with a prep pad he'd pulled from a nearby medical cart. "That was likely feedback from that residual magic blow back paired with subconscious up-processing though that doesn't seem to be part of the arm's original programing so that part is unexplained....but without that feedback loop from the blow black magic the prosthesis shouldn't be able to hijack your arm anymore." Finishing cleansing the stump the man finally stopped so as to fix the schmooze with a hazel gaze, awaiting his answer.

For Mach's part he worked on worrying a hole through his lip, trying to weigh the pros and cons of this situation even though he already knew the outcome. And so with a sigh he finally nodded glumly, the arm remnant offered out to the madsci. Bell wasted no time grabbing the black limb from it's perch, slowly guiding it onto his stump as they watched with obvious fascination with the alien tech while he....he cringed and was already pre-blocking his throat. Once seated the clam shell like flaps clamped down automatically, the limb contorting itself as it attached to the remainder of his forearm with a few clicks and sighs. A few moments were spent holding his breath as the limb settled on, the weight pulling on his shoulder. He tried hard to keep his mind blank as the limb settled down upon his thigh.

"Alright Mach....grab my hand." Bell offered out their right hand to the schmooze who looked at it as though they were tempting a snake to bite them. He hesitated for a little longer, waiting for any sort of feedback before finally he lifted the limb up with his arm and reached out for that hand....and grabbed it.

Mach couldn't help but look baffled as the limb responded a little slow, but appropriately to his natural instinct. But that surprise soon gave way to a, perhaps, the first honest grin that had blessed the man for a long time as the next few hours were spent fine tuning the movement with the help of his personal support tech who knew well how to work with the schmooze on adapting to new tech. Working through a gambit of exercises punctuated by the occasional outburst from Rolands, Mach didn't experience any sort of strange effects until the time Bell had started to apply flesh sealant from that tube to the bridge between the junction of flesh and metal.

Resting the limb on the bedside tray Mach simply watched as the other worked on applying sludge, mindless chatter about Bell's real and alive girlfriend being exchanged when he noticed the slight twitching tap of his finger. It was almost imperceptible at first but rose in urgency until it was finally a nervous tick which quelled the hunter's smile. "Shit....guess things can't go too good."

Bell simply smirked at the hunter's sullen observation, their attention remaining on their work until they finished. "For being such a positive person you are surprisingly pessimistic Eli." Setting the tube aside he snagged one of the golf pencil like stick from that box and offered it for over. "Suck on that."

Mach couldn't help but frown at that frank statement, a desire to snap back rising though he was caught off guard by that stick in his face. His expression twisted sullen, a grumble rumbling under breath before he simply took the stick, a quick investigation determining only one side obviously meant to be suckled on. Without much ceremony he tried out the stick, a draw on the tube and....oh my~! Lone cobalt blue snapped to the man as the unrolled that long, opaque, nitrile looking glove. "This is-"

"Medication to help with subconscious interface complications with that limb....that so happens to like a vape cigarette." Wry grin held to the man at the explanation. "Like I said, we don't know much about that limb. It was a good guess to figure that there was feedback loops making it act overly bizarre back in Rhy'Din but there's probably more there than just that....and it's linked to your subconscious. So, long as you keep that in check you should be good....and cigarettes seem to do wonders to help calm you."

Taking a few more drags the schmooze did note as the limb seemed to calm once more, that nervous tick fading away. "Huh....great. So I take it these are prescription"

Bell nodded even as they shot the schmooze a 'don't you dare' glare, obviously not keen on being hugged by him. "Twice daily but you can sneak the occasional PRN if you really need it. I'd advice against raising too much attention with it though. Not something you want to have to explain."

"My pre~cious." The creepy voice and otherworldly culture reference seemed to go over the madsci's head given the blank look they gave him. An awkward moment would pass before the continued on to the task of putting on the flesh toned glove which rolled up to just a little beyond the peak of his bicep. There was a moment of curiosity as to why this was being put on but he quickly came upon his conclusion as he remembered where he was. "You think that'll stop the madsci's here from salivating over my arm' Prosthetics aren't exactly common here."

"It'll help enough. Keep the worst of curiosity sated but you'll want to be careful. This tech is obviously not Tangian which mean's that someone here will probably want to dismantle it if they catch wind of that. I'm sure your discretion and....social malleability will help you to avoid the worst of attention."

Mach suckled on that stick well past it stopped tasting like anything, lone blue shooting the other a wry look. "Oh yeah, me and my magnetic personality."

A tired sigh escaped Bell as he shook his head in the midst of packing everything back up save for that pack of self contained vape sticks. "That's what I was afraid of." The two stared at each other for a moment before a fit of laughter took them. It was a nice reprieve, to just have a somewhat 'normal' interaction with someone. Something the schmooze honestly needed it seemed. "Alright Mach, I think that should do it. I'll be back in about a month to check up on you unless you have any problems sooner, than just let the guards know immediately."

Mach almost frowned as he realized what those words meant though he caught the ill expression, a gentle smile lifting instead as he offered out his right hand now for a shake. "Alright, I will. And hey Donald" Thanks yeah?"

The other took his hand in a firm shake, a practiced smile of their own offered. "You take care, you understand. There are those of us who'll hate it if you don't survive this in smug style like you usually do."

The schmooze couldn't help but roll his eye at that, a snort escaping him as the two released grasps. "Yeah, yeah....hurry up and be Mach, yeah"? A wry grin, twisted by some sour though or another but he didn't give voice to such as he moved back to assume the door opening position while Bell moved to the cage door. The madsci hazarded one last look to the schmooze on their way out of the infirmary, a twiddle of fingers offered as he settled in to wait for the man to leave the facility before the guards would transfer him back to his cell with that little sliver of hope in tow against the sea of yells and threats which was his existence.

Mach

Date: 2016-04-25 16:28 EST
9 Holensdred

It was good to see Bell doing well, or as good as any person can honestly say that they're pleased when fortune shines on someone who tried to kill them at some point. That was an interesting hunt going after "the Doom Bell~!" The guy really was a full blown megalomaniacal class of madsci with cape and everything back in the day. Kind of makes a lot of folks wonder why I championed for his rehab, but then being nuts and being a good person aren't mutually exclusive. At least I don't think they are anyway, but then my views on things are usually considered wrong and get me in trouble with everyone so what do I know.

Anyway, I've been practicing with the arm. Seems Bell and his gang of misfits were able to exorcise most the bad voodoo from the limb (or he's right about the magic scrub doing wonders against feedback interference but the other conclusion makes me giggle so I'm running with it.) So far I've picked up everything in my eight of heaven, exercised with it, am currently writing with it, and have repeatedly hit it against my bed frame hard enough to piss off my neighbor without a boom. All in all it seems to be doing well but it does feel a little weak on pull ups. Part of the limits for a non-integrated connection I guess but certainly not a deal breaker less I get hazed by having to do pull ups so they can check my guns.

Past that I have noticed a little tick that's not solved with the medication. Just sort of happens at random when I space and never goes beyond just a nervous tick but it is worrisome nonetheless. Going to have to monitor for any sort of progression of symptoms so I can try to avoid another grab happy episode like back in Rhy"Din; otherwise I'm keeping this under my orange jumper. Don't exactly want to bother Bell again after he just left this scenic little oasis. So yeah, tomorrow will be the real test of things for this " finally getting to take a meal out in the dining hall. Guess if the binding doesn't hold I can join the illustrious ranks of hunters beat to death with their own limbs - a dubious if not larger than it really should be category. But I digress and I'm tired of writing so that's it for now. Ta~

P.S.

I've got crappy depth perception thanks to my deficient eye count but I don't have crappy hearing! I can hear some of the bets going around and let me just say ? you jerks better have me in for all or nothing all the way for me! Crap odds means good payout if I can deliver and daddy wants some fine steak on my release. Just take the payment out of my stuff in storage, all but the dog tags and key. Those go with me, or what?s left of me anyway.

Mach

Date: 2016-05-27 13:15 EST
10 Holensdred

Mach enjoyed the twilight hours before wake up time. It was generally calm and peaceful, a hidden reprieve where he could reflect on things without the hassle of guards or the noise of other inmates going about their contained lives. Of course it helped that the man, despite being dropped down to a maintenance dose of a regeneration potion analog, still slept like a bird in a hurricane. And so he was always one of the last to succumb to the call of Morpheus and one of the first to heed the revelry of Alectrona. This morning was no different but today an acutely nervous energy crept along his spine disturbing the usual peace of these hidden hours, driving him out of bed and to pacing his small cage. The cause for this disturbance was that today was the first day he'd be immersed in the prison populace, the very same populace that generally wanted to rip his head off and use his neck as a latrine.

It was such thoughts and how to avoid said fate that occupied the man through the twilight and as the rise and shine alarm clamored to life rousing the rest of the slumbering masses while the fresh shift of guards wandered the cell blocks rapping the cages of any that tried to cling fruitlessly to the sweet embrace of slumber. The inmates were given an hour to dress and attend to constitutionals before having to line up at their doors for the morning official count, pat down, and cell assessment. A tedious process made only more so depending how cheeky some were feeling before the prisoners were herded out like cattle, one row of cells at a time lead through the depressing stone corridors to the large mess hall. This was a first for Mach who'd just sort of waited out the proceedings and got a meal of questionable quality brought to him after all the other inmates had vacated the cell block. Stepping out today though sort of made him feel like a groundhog with all the eyes on him save he didn't get any option to run back into his hole if he found the weather not to his liking (which he very much didn't.) If anything he was fairly certain groundhog stew was the surprise item on the menu given the intensity of a number of those glares that scorched upon him!

Moving along with as much gusto as he could muster the schmooze ignored the thrum of irate murmurs and murderous stares as he was herded along the oppressively confined hallways till they opened up to the cavernous mess hall. It looked to be a multipurpose space which held row after row of storeable metal park tables with a serving line set up along one of the long sides opposite a wall of compressed bleachers. Guards were set up at each of the entrances and at intervals along the serving area and the dish wash area with a few patrols walking amongst the inmates and along the gangways above so as to try and keep things civil and watch out for sly folks looking to sneak an impromptu weapon out. Shuffling along with the mass of inmates Mach took in details of the other prisoners that stood out amongst the sea of glowing orange, discreetly sizing up folks with that lone cobalt eye. Mages and madsci's weren't, in general, a physically intimidating lot typically favoring brain over brawn, but that didn't mean you didn't get the occasional outlier particularly with druids, naturalist, and berserker mages or even your odd madsci that enjoyed a more....'tactile' study of the world. But beyond just the brawny who could obviously bring hurt down upon him in spades the hunter was looking for those who seemed to bear an obvious ill will in the hinted forms of scowls and dirty glare cast his way. Strong or not a sly person with enough tenacity and hate could find any number of ways to do harm to the blissfully ignorant after all. Of course those gathered barely accounted for a third of the populace of this penitentiary with the other two thirds made up of women and metahumans of both genders which were separated out accordingly for obvious reasons. Hey, top of the line physically, technically, and arcanely secure facilities were not cheap to operate and for the small size of population that warranted being housed in such it was economic insanity to run separate penitentiaries for each subset of gender or humanoid species. As thus he had a whole fourteen hours to just contend with one species gender of hate before women and metahumans were thrown into the mixture of wanting him dead as a hammer during the communal dinner and monitored free-time. Yay for miniscule victories he supposed.

Reaching the food line he shifted his undivided attention to watching his food like a hawk, choosing only items he could serve himself. It may have seemed a little over paranoid but there were some rather devious and clever madsci's out there....or moreso gathered and concentrated in here so it paid to be wary. Of course this left him with pretty much just a heaping bowl of appetite killing porridge as near everything else was served to you so as to ensure portion control. Lovely. Topping it off with a cup of warm going on tepid coffee, anemic OJ, stale toast, and a few pieces of ever unpopular fruit and Mach was feeling not only paranoid but like he'd forcibly been made health conscientious of his diet. Yeah, this was going to be a miserable first few weeks among the other inmates as he figured out who really had it out for him, who disliked him for what he was but couldn't be assed to go out of their way to harm him, and who couldn't care less about him so long as he didn't piss in their Wheaties.

With tray in hand he moved off for the far side of a currently empty table, situating himself for a quick escape while leaving it up to the rest of the prisoners to approach him. This may have made him seem unfriendly and anti-social but he reckoned that to be better than inadvertently treading on peoples toes by carelessly trying to force himself on folks.....and who said he didn't learn from his screw ups in life! Settling in he quickly took to his breakfast with aplomb dictated by the paranoid desire to get his attention back to the other inmates as quickly as he could coupled with finishing as much food as possible before trouble inevitably found him. Sadly he was only on his third apple when he noted the group of others filing in around him. Now this in and of itself was innocent enough if he hadn't noted a few of his new neighbors having been situated elsewhere in the dining hall before now. Ruggedly handsome as he was he doubted these were just fans with tittering hearts wanting to flock themselves around him so as to bask in his greatness.

Finishing off that third piece of fruit he mindlessly turned his attention back to his gruel, shoveling it down even as that bubble of space around him closed in, the ranks of bodies pressing closer and closer until finally one particularly brave individual stepped in to sit right next to him on the bench. The man wasn't overly threatening being of a scrappy but lesser physique than the hunter with maybe a little less than a decade more youth than him. They looked to be your classic banger with a purposefully maintained buzz cut and the kind of ink that just oozed street credibility and....tribal. Crap, it just had to be a druid....he hated dealing with druids. Pretentious and uppity lot with a massive chip on their shoulders that almost bordered on being a culturally identifiable trait! Mix in 'thug life' and Mach found such to be the near perfect recipe for insufferable douche bag personified.

Ignoring the first few subtle as a duck attempts to garner his attention via a series of increasing coughs and throat clears from the young punk, Mach instead let his shadowed glances cast about to the others around him; most looking to be young, brash, or with a chip on their shoulder and/or having something to prove. Or in his far too deep experience with these things the 'fish' of the place looking to score a little higher place in the pecking order than....'pretty'. It made a sort of sense that it was mostly the young and stupid that would be the first to try and start something with him while the older, wiser, and institutionalized inmates just sort of looked on to see how things went. Hey, why risk getting your own face introduced to a spork when some young punk was happy to volunteer to do such in your steed in the name of misguided bluster" That wasn't to say that there weren't older inmates mixed in with this welcoming committee just frothing at the chance to get first crack at him but the there was a definite discrepancy of representation.

At long last though Mach found the annoyed sigh that left him unavoidable as he finally directed his attention to the string of low growled explicatives that his newfound druid buddy was directing at him. They were particularly trenchant given the thick Minostra accent that the fellow had - fast and high-strung with a garnish of cockney Irish slandered with enough ignorance to make it almost nauseous. Lone cobalt orb consciously worked on not rolling as he acknowledged the man with a weary gaze, his expression only thinning as the punk thrust their chest towards him aggressively in a show of youthful bravado. "Yeah, I'm talk"n ta ya asswipe. Ya know where ya at boy-o?"

There was more than just a passing thought to simply present this idiot's face to the table a few times and be done with them but the older and questionably wiser side of him hazarded caution towards such a knee-jerk reaction. He was outnumbered after all and as restful as it seemed he certainly didn't want to serve his time here sipping nutritional smoothies through a straw in the infirmary' or dirtying up the ambiance of the morgue. No, he had to make as nice as he possibly could with this lot in the face of sane fear, stupid anger, and insane humor. Those last two he blamed on a youth and younger adult life, and occasionally older adult life apparently, spent being well versed in navigating the rough waters of the legal punishment and rehabilitation systems many, many times thanks to him, at heart, being a bit of a thug himself

"Dining hall last I checked." A simple statement with a soured smile as he was already kicking himself for the smart answer which as anyone knew was actually never really very smart. He made sure to put his spork down on the plane of the table just in case his buddies knee-jerk impulses weren't so well controlled as his.

"Oh' We got auselves a comedian! A right ball o' laughs." The punk sneered as they sized him up with verdant green eyes, or perhaps more tried to keep themselves psyched. For his part Mach straightened up, making sure the man got a load of his still pretty daunting form. Intimidation and seeming in control were usually just as good as actually having an upper hand or really being in control of a situation he'd found from past experiences. Confidence " the currency that always paid out until it unexpectedly and usually spectacularly didn't.

But for right now it seemed his credit was holding as the other shifted slightly, a touch of tension tarnishing their audacity. Hey, reading folks was a crucial skill for a hunter and Mach was, without a doubt, an idiot in the realm of such given his dating history....but a savant at least when it came to telling when people wanted to kill him which was the important part for hunters anyway. Pressing that doubt he offered the man a thin smile. "Always good to a have a hobby, yeah?"

The druid didn't seem to appreciate this touch of smarm as they ramped themselves up escalating the situation further by clutching the sleeve of his jumper with an ugly...er sneer hitching their features. "Real funny boy-o but yar nothin' butta dead shitbag walkin', aye' Ain't no big shot hunter here....justa piece a meat 'mongst wolves, hear?"

They were making it really hard not to roll his eye as the punk, threatening as they were attempting to be, was still yapping even when they had all the advantage! This was the real great equalizer between freaks like him and mages like this douche; not the potions or military training or integrated madsci tech but the fact that these idiots just couldn't help from pontificating when given half a chance. "Oh' So I'm an F-steak, what of it?"

Bluntness when one should have been pissing themselves in fear worked wonders to sequester anothers rolling thunder. Mach could almost see the man's confidence losing steam as their white knuckle grip on his jumper tightened with impotent indecision. Hey, while the young and stupid were keen for action they weren't so far gone to just ignore that unknown threat when dealing with someone like a hunter who were pretty much akin to monsters to mages and madscis alike. Mach knew how he was seen in the eyes of everyone here....something to be hated and feared in equal measure, the boogieman that children were threatened with so as to stay on the straight and narrow. Someone in the P.R. department was doing their jobs really well in regards to this bit of misinformation of the public; and while it usually meant a harder and more lonely existence for the schmooze right now he would play up any terrible and nasty belief these jokers would buy.

But perhaps what gave the young man pause more than just that ingrained fear of hunters that near everyone here shared, what worked to make this encounter reach near high noon levels of showdown patience was the threat of increased charges. Not that folks here were likely to ever leave until they finally accepted one of the less pleasant 'treatment' options for their 'condition' but that didn't mean that any of them wanted to willfully ensure they'd never see the light of day again. Or worse yet they could earn themselves punitive restrictions placed on their already dictated lives; and if an individual showed a complete and irredeemable lack of control than they sometimes even lost the choice to refuse treatment anymore which typically ended in a trip to the brain snip snip room for a friendly lobotomy.

Unfortunately, even with all these pitfalls, terrors, and his lies, grand as they were and backed by a lot of personal trauma on these folks part, there was still that peer pressure of the gang culture which ran rampant and pushed folks to action in the face of any and all sense. This was a truth that Mach was painfully aware of first hand as the last time he dealt with a large collection of semi-organized thugs ramped up on a cause and some peer encouragement he was tortured for nearly two weeks straight and lost an arm and eye for the showing. So even though the mage's grasp waned for a moment the edging of bodies forward, crushing the both of them with their goading glares lit a fire beneath the druids ass once more as they gave his sleeve a yank jerking the schmoozes head over, hot breath slathering over his ear. "That means yar in aur pit boy-o....that ya live er die by aur rules lil' hunter. An' way we sees it ya ain't offer'n much fer us not ta jus' rip yar throat out an-"

Verdant green eyes shot wide in shock as Mach's elbow abruptly wrenched upwards into their chin, cutting them off and wresting his sleeve from the man's stunned grip. A spittle of blood spilled from their mouth, savage words rising but never finding voice as the hunter was already on the move, left hand crossing to slam the druids face down with a sickening thud against the table while his right caught his spork to shove menacingly into tender flesh just above their beating carotid. His patience had very obviously run dry.

A shockwave of stunned silence rippled out along the gathering from the savage show of violence. This was bad, he'd wanted to avoid this sort of scenario not play into it! But then given how badly stacked this deck was against such from the start that really ever was just a pipe dream. And when things are already going south in a bad way it was the prudent who grabbed the initiative and struck when no one was still expecting it....and if you couldn't be good or right you might as well be prudent by Mach's figuring. Letting out a guttural growl that was more feral than perhaps possible of a civilized man he bared his teeth to one and all around him. "No, you listen here boy-os..." Out in the periphery he already heard the angry shouts of guards ordering him to stand down, bodies in black uniforms and body armor fighting through the masses to try and break up the commotion before the powder keg blew. Sadly the fuse for this tragedy had been lit the second he fell in line with his fellow inmates rather than retreating once more to the sanctity of his cell, a burning blaze leading to this final moment of calm too charged to do anything but go over the edge. Grinding the man's skull into the table by a tuft of hair Mach pressed the spork harder into their supple flesh until the defiant growled curses trembling from crimson stained lips turned to pained mewls. "...I ain't locked in here with you lot of rejects and losers....you're locked in here with me!"

And like that the calm shattered before that vicious threat snarled from the hunter, the dinning hall exploding into pure bedlam as those around him surged forward with intent to tear him apart while hell broke out amongst the other tables. The show proved ample fuel for the tension in the air igniting fierce, opportunistic gang on gang warfare because if one person was already getting their teeth kicked in in a public manner why not a few dozen more" But past this initial detonation of chaos there wasn't much Mach would be able to recall as he let dire instinct take over in that fight for life, his world surging red as the blood that pounded in his veins. That prosthetic arm was used as a shield against the worst of the makeshift shivs, sporks, razors, and bludgeons rendering the covering sleeves of material to little more than tatters. It proved a great tool for defense but certainly not impervious as one after another blossom of burning pain peppered about his form, his body crying alarm as his vitae spilled equally amongst the macabre display that marked the linoleum tiled floor. Despite this he'd not done too shabby given that growing ring of groaning bodies in various forms of writhing agony or outright broken strewn about him giving the impression of some craven ghoul at feast. This isn't good enough....a ravenous thought that echoed in his mind, drove him forward at those who backed away scrambling to escape. He fought through the brutal assault of teargas that blinded and the wicked lick of paralyzing electricity that tried to coerce him to cease and desist that desire to rip apart just one more punk.

Like a cornered beast he fought viciously until at last the cold bite of hard ballistic batons mercilessly tore into his joints. They ripped him down involuntarily giving the guards an opening to smother and beat him into submission. He could feel himself yelling something, feel those bodies crushing down atop of him shouting back though he couldn't hear any of the exchange through the deafening thrum of the blood that rushed in his ears. All he knew was that whatever it was that was screaming out in his voice wasn't him. It was a savagery that went well beyond the cold and callous he knew he could be, something alien and yet so sickeningly familiar that it frightened him. But he had little time for such idle thoughts as his body convulsed under the voltage that raced now through his brain from the prongs of that stunner jabbed angrily into the back of his neck, scrambling that hellish nightmare he bore witness to before severing his ties to the conscious world.

Mach

Date: 2016-06-01 01:06 EST
16 Holensdred

Guess what? Wardens really hate riots! Who knew! I know, I know, everyone; but this totally wasn't my fault! Well unless you start counting me being just who I am as now something to fault me for, which granted others have, but totally not the point! See in prison everything's on a hierarchy of big bads to fish food and if you want to survive when everyone hates you then you gotta set yourself up as one of the biggest and baddest of the bads. Show folks that they don't want to screw with you. And in that regards, well, mission great success. I apparently account for seventeen of the forty injuries in the infirmary by myself before the boys in black pummeled me into the ground. Broke one of my knees apparently because I wouldn't go down but I am glad I didn't actually take a swing at any of them! Kick the teeth in on one or five fellow prisoners and all is sweat potatoes. Touch a guard though and you've bought yourself communal bath cleaning duty with your tongue for a year.

Actually I apparently pulled one of the popo out of a sticky situation though I don't kind of remember any of that. Just sort of saw red for the whole shit storm. But then I think it's that and the fact that Warden Gernmar doesn't want to touch the steaming paperwork pile for this sort of FUBAR that I've not accrued any new charges to my name. Actually most of us just got off with pips added to our behavioral records and promises to get our skulls dented in by the guards if we pull this sort of crap again. So yeah, likely no more obvious attempts to rip me limb from limb, go me!

Of course this just means that all attempts now are gonna be less obvious and much harder to see coming than a punky druid getting up in my business (Luis B. 776489 " going to have to keep the eye out on him and his flunky friends since he's probably sore about me cutting up his neck and sporking his hand to a cafeteria tray.) So yeah, one ass kicking step forward, two shivs to the back steps back. But for now I'm reveling in what little I can as admin has bumped back up my regen potion level so I can recover out in my cell rather than making the infirmary a hotbed of potential scalpel laden violence. Guess we'll see how things go in a few days when we try integrating me back into the prison pop again. Should be fun!

Oh hell, not even I'm that cracked to think that. If anything I could really use a friend in this right about now or at least a friendly enough face that I know probably doesn't want to kill me. The small comforts you take for granted when you can be more than just some animal fighting for survival. Guess it's a good thing I'm a hunter; where one person is weak and prone to fail alone monsters can thrive. At least that's what I'm hoping will happen, fingers crossed papa can still buck the odds.

Anyway time for dinner. I bet I'm getting chips, pickles, and sandwichs again " the finger food diet! Apparently my overzealous use of utensils when I was fighting has sort of gotten me a punitive demerit against receiving such for a while. Whoops.

Mach

Date: 2016-06-07 10:07 EST
32 Holensdred

Well time out among the pop has been interesting" No more riots which is a good thing but folks have been making sure to steer well clear of me. Even the women and other 'sub-humans' are keeping distance after hearing of my exploits. Guess dangerous hunter is dangerous. So yeah, my meal times are generally pretty peaceful save for the game of spot the food item with a razor accidentally cooked into it.

Outside of that I am doing something that I bet no one ever saw coming - I'm working using my brain! Idle hands are shanking hands after all so even the darling of the prison has to put in his ten hours and the popo have me working with the madscis down in ancient document translation and research section. A weird fit but then the admin is at least smart enough not to put me around a bunch of mages and heavy machinery in the shops. And while some madscis can hold a hell of a grudge they usually don't hold them against entire groups of folks like hunters so there's a lot more folks down there who just don't care about my existence as a hunter since I didn't put them in here specifically myself. Anyway, what the hell they going to do, bore me to death with technical details of Iykvaren mating habits"

But yeah, personal bit of hell that since I'm not exactly the most cerebral sorts but here I am with my face buried in piles of books scribbling away since no one can have tech just in case a madsci makes a deathray from a calculator, a ruler, and a few pens. Of course even if I wanted to talk to anyone (which, madscis, yeah) they tend to avoid me since I'm still sort of seen as dead man walking. But then again I have had no less than twenty attempts on my life already and those are just the ones I noticed! So it's not like there isn't truth to that little thought.

So mental torture, isolation, and attempted murders, all and all pretty much as to be expected! At very least I can use utensils again (which is a super bonus since I was getting pretty bummed missing out on meatloaf night.) Also I think my healing up so well has everyone on edge too. Their 'marking' of me by putting a nice cut from my brow down to chin during that cafe scuffle is all but gone which I've used to play up the 'ooooh, scaaaary hunter' stories as I can. Usually by talking to myself but folks are listening. Good deterrent fuel for the let's survive bonfire.

On another note it must be getting close to Beltane back in Rhy'Din I think. Second time I get to miss that giant party, bummer that. Guess can't help anything about that getting my stupid ass shocked dead because I was being pushy last time and this time....yeah. I hope everyone's doing well at least. Bet there's lots of drinking going on since alcoholism seems to be a national pastime in that city! Crazy place, crazy place. But good, no matter what the stiff necks say even if they are right about it being dangerous. Kind of get what they meant by that now.

Well I think I'm done writing for the moment. Need to save up my sullen anger and saint like patience for my 'therapy' session with Dr. Lagern. Swear that guy really wants a taste of my fist. Not that I plan to punch him so no bondaging me to the couch!

Mach

Date: 2016-06-08 11:11 EST
1 Sansreed

"Welcome Mr. Turner. Please, have a seat."

Mach hated this guy. He hated their smile, their voice, their mannerisms, their weaselly face with granite gray eyes just a little too small made just a little too big by the horn rimmed glasses they wore. He hated the dandy half part of auburn locks they touted and the same granite pinstripe suit they wore at every session. But most of all the hunter hated how he couldn't avoid this, how he was forced to attend two hours of therapy a day to try and 'rehabilitate' him. It was all a load of bull, poking and prodding to try and figure how he ticked though he wasn't keen to let these asshats have that pleasure. "I do better standing and pacing."

"You keep your agitation and hence your 'wits' about you better standing and pacing you mean. Now please, have a seat so we may begin." Dr. Lagern smiled in that fake manner of theirs as they pretended to be pleasant though the tone of the politeness was far from a request.

Standing for a moment longer in defiance Mach finally planted himself sullenly upon the chaise lounger across from the armchair where the doctor sat cross legged. Settling in he made a 'get on with it motion' to the head doc which simply drew a chuckle from the other.

"Oh, but I'm waiting for you Mr. Turner. Why don't we start where we left off last time?"

"Why don't we move forward, yeah' Progress lies ahead not behind..." A cheeky sort of grin followed with his glib tone though both soured catching the disapproving granite glare in his lone cobalt eye. "...I don't see a point dwelling on matters in the past."

"It's our pasts that shape our futures Mr. Turner." A wryly glib tone of their own spicing those words as they started to write a few things down on their pad. "So, Ms. Serah Farron..."

"Got what she needed and dumped me because ain't no future with a hunter."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Like a pretty fucking princess." He couldn't help the cold, caustic touch that dripped from those words as he snarked at the shrink. "How the hell else did you think that would have made me feel" Pretty sure I've answered that question the same every fucking time."

"That's the point of questions Mr. Turner, and even if the answers are mostly the same they are worth noting." Mach felt his jaw clenching with the soft scritch of pencil on paper as the man jotted down a few notes. "So....'did', you don't feel as such now than you did then?"

"Nah doc, like I've said I moved on like I'm supposed to. Classic tale after all, there isn't any sort of future to be had with a hunter after all. Can't fault a girl for being right on the intuition, yeah' That's how you die a virgin. Speaking of....how's your lily' I imagine a man like you must be pretty....unspoiled..."

Dr. Lagern simply chuckled softly at that jab, a few more notes jotted down before continuing. "So you're okay with her moving on to someone who does have a future then, is it?"

A scowl rippled beneath that stoic mask he wore as the shrink didn't even lose a beat to his sharp words. This wasn't therapy, this was getting grilled and talked down to. But even knowing this he felt foolish for the melancholy that the bastard stirred in him with his callow words. "Yeah, sure. Doesn't matter what I think one way or another anyway, all things given. She can go on and be with her dream guy, good for her."

Teeth ground as he bit back on that curse, at the harsh tone of his words that made him sound like some callous jerk and petulant kid all in one go. Damn he hated how that topic could just twist him about. Lagern; however, seemed to pay little mind to his internal struggles as they simply jotted down a few more things. "You mentioned she got what she needed....and what would that happen to be?"

This drew a mocking snort from the hunter. "Top class military secrets of course. Said it was sort of a hobby of hers collecting government toppling info from low class shills. But don't worry, I held out for more than 'just the tip', boys gotta have standards after all."

There were was a pause in that rhythm as the doctor's features twisted while they actually tried to work through that asinine banter of his in all seriousness. He probably wasn't doing himself any favors by being so glib about such a hotbed topic given her being a mage and him a mage hunter, but then the truth of matters would probably have been seen just as bad. And given the choice between discussing a lie that was just going to screw him harder in the end or sharing the heart wrenching truth that might screw him less but break him more; well, it was just sort of a no brainer to him. Of course the amount of scrawls and thoughtful consideration the head doc was giving this sparing lie was turning out to be a little worrisome. "I'm kidding of course! Jeez man, grow a fucking sense of humor..."

Dr. Lagern finished up whatever it was he was writing before lifting his cool granite gaze to the man, his expression mild with false concern and friendliness. "You're mental health is not a joking matter Mr. Turner, and how much you treat this topic like it is just goes to show how much this particular breakup hurt you. I'm just trying to understand....see through the web of lies by tracking them all and figuring out why you invested so much in this particular person when it's obvious things were doomed from the start."

"I'd be careful with that Chuckles, never know what monsters lurk behind webs of lies, yeah?" Dry words of precaution were spoken as he eyed the shrink warningly though their soft chuckle only worked to whither his expression.

"I'm not too worried about that given the last few times you listed what she wanted or needed from you was your 'lovely manly pecks', 'lucky charms', let's see....'she wanted a live in cook and barkeep but then decided just to move in over a bar' and....ah, yes, your 'lovely, lovely D'."

Mach just sort of blinked as he listened to that growing list of B.S. he'd fed the doc get read to him unsure weather he should scowl or cackle. "Well hot damn, you've just about figured me out on this! I think a little reflection time and you'll figure out that all I'm missing are a pair of oversized shoes and a red nose, yeah' How about we call it an early session so you can work that out?"

A dry chuckle left the shrink as he scribbled down a few more damnable notes. "Oh, I feel I am far from understanding the truth of you or this matter Mr. Turner, but getting closer. Don't think I'll learn much more about this today though so how about moving forward, hmm?" Flipping a few pages the doctor settled on a different set of notes "What can you tell me about the creature, Sarai?"

Mach

Date: 2016-06-09 15:44 EST
1 Sansreed - Continued

"Sarai's a woman..." The reply was snappy, spoken in a low growl that warranted the slightest peak of thin brow from the quack.

"It's an infernal Mr. Turner. Inhuman. I think the fact that you willfully forget how foreign these individuals you pursue are may be part of your problem, you lose perspective. Even your ex is a mage, and an alien one at that."

Mach sat there in silence as his fingers flexed, working to throttle back his temper before he ended up lunging and throttling this dickbags throat right here and now. But then if laying a finger on a guard was bad, attacking the support staff was akin to institutional suicide. Pushing down the red with a few final deep breaths he offered a shake of head. "She's. A. Woman. And they are both people."

A tired sigh escaped the man as they pinched at the bridge of their nose. "A female of form and function for her species perhaps, yes....one that could very well want to eat you and claim your soul."

Anger flared burning hot for a moment before something crossed the hunter, a snide smirk spreading along rugged features. "Oh, believe me doc, she's eaten plenty of me. I think proof positive you can't just suction a soul outta someone, ya know?" His grin was wicked as he waggled his brows suggestively at the psychiatrist.

"Mr. Turner."

"Actually I think you can say I've run a longitudinal study across multiple test subjects for the past decade yeah' Ran it double blind with me eating back to see if-"

"Mr. Turner." Mach turned a laconic gaze to the man, his smirk still wild in the face of that stern disapproval. "If you're quite done-"

"Not really..." He couldn't help but reveal in the tautness of the doctors features as they restrained themselves from playing into his particular brand of distraction. "....but I guess I can behave....just cause you asked so nicely Chuckles. You....are asking nicely, yeah?"

Granite gaze held the hunter without humor for a long moment before the man wrote something down on his pad, the page turned. "Sarai. Your relationship with....her, how is that going?"

A dismissive snort escaped him as the other decided to play ball at least and humor his opinions even if it was obvious they didn't truly accept them. "It's not."

"It isn't' What of the accounts that speak otherwise?"

"Overstated." Growled words between clenched teeth as he worked on reigning back in his emotions on this. "Seriously, isn't that like tax fraud to be spending so much money just to spy on little ol' me?" "You're an investment and this is just maintenance of said investment." Mach scowled at the comparison of him to some tool but bit back on the venomous words that tried to follow. "But beside that, why is that relationship not working" You've certainly shown no restraint in your tastes and it seems you two have been close for some time given how often her name came up in regards to your last major....investigation."

"Yeah, investigations....with explosions and bloody mayhem more than cuddles and smoochy faces. But anyway it's just like you lot love to bang on about yeah?" He fell silent in contemplation and stalling at once, his expression somber before it took on a sour note as the pause grew pregnant and awkward, the shrink simply waiting for clarification likely with a stupid smile upon their stupid face. "We're living incompatible lives, alright' But not stupid and bigoted like you folks figure. More" different paces."

"Different paces?" Uptick of tone deepened that frown upon him as they seemed to write this down, circling it for emphasis.

Releasing a sigh he deflated wearily into the plush folds of that lounger. "Yeah, different paces. Like I'm a mouse or hare and she's a tortoises" maybe a whale." The schmooze paused to consider this for a moment before a dirty smirk bubbled out. "Probably best I never let her know I made that sort of comparison. Might critically reduce my chances for shaking dew off my lily ever again if it gets out I'm calling pretty women whales!" He cracked at this little joke, legs kicking out to cross one atop the other before him.

"Different lifespans?"

And just like that the humor was snuffed out by Dr. Killjoy and their drab indifference, but then again not everyone took arcane and demi-xenoanthropology so their ignorance, while annoying and stupid, was understandable. Didn't mean that lessened Mach's dim opinion any. "Yeah doc, different lifespans. Humans, short. Infernals, really fucking long. Hunters, somewhere between human and right after breakfast..."

A few notes were scratched out before a thoughtful pause. "Your concern over such is surprisingly forward thinking, have you always been so future conscientious Mr. Turner?"

Something about the way the shrink said that made it feel more like an insult than some sort of praise. "Thanks?" Frowning, that dour expression softened some with with a scoff turning it melancholy as he thought more on the subject. "But sorta....most of us hunters are future conscientious, worry over our fates and what will inevitably happen to us....not so special that. Guess some would call that being pessimistic but really it's just facing facts yeah?"

Taking in a deep breath he listened to the low whiffle as it pushed out from his nostrils, cobalt blue gaze focused on something well beyond the confines of those walls. "And she already bears the cold burden of a mortals death? carries it with her. I can't' I can't be that to her" another burden, another heartache." A mirthless smirk jostled his shoulders, dragging his mind back to his present surroundings. "Going to fail pretty bad at that already I think" but there's something to be said about keeping some distance, leaving some things left unsaid and off the table."

The shrink scribbled down a few notes. "So she shows some sort of remorse for taking the souls from those she seduces?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mach shot up on that lounger, a fierce glare shot at the psychiatrist. "She lost her damned husband you stupid fucking piece of bigoted shit! A man that she loved and wanted to share her life with! She's not some kind of monster that just preys upon the weak willed for their soul; she has interests and wants and desires and emotions and intelligence and more fucking heart than you do you callow assface!" His teeth hurt from how hard his jaw clenched, knuckles white as he gripped the fabric of the lounger trying to stop himself from pulping the mildly taken aback expression of the others stupid face.

Apparently he'd been yelling this little outburst as no sooner had he stopped did a knock resonate from the door, shattering that mounting tension that hung in the air. "Dr. Lagern, are you alright!?" The voice barely contained the stress of the young man on the other side likely trying to decide how much excessive force he was about to have to apply to whatever situation was unfolding inside the office.

The shrink on the other hand remained still for a moment, watching the hunter warily before they cleared their throat, easing the tension from their own nerves so as they could continue writing. "I'm fine Donald, just a touchy subject. "

"Sir, if you need a stand in..."

"We're fine Donald, you can return to your post..." There was an awkward silence that followed after, the seconds ticking by before the sound of footfalls could be heard fading away from the door.

For his part Mach still glared at the jackass doctor, a cross between a smirk and a snarl twisting his features. "You sure you should be sending him away' My job....my life is breaking people with improv you know..."

Lagern watched Mach for a measured instant as if gauging something before he returned to his damnable writing. "You're also an intelligent individual Mr. Turner....far too much so to let emotions drive you to such an ill advised course of action-"

"Said to the guy that blew up a cult, got arrested for it, sent to jail, and then thought a good idea first few weeks in would be to kick the ass of several dozen of his fellow inmates."

The shrink chuckled mildly at that list of stupid. "I mean that you know how things work and you're smart enough to play them; rebel against "the system' in some bid to your slight anarchist tendencies. But there are few reasons that you would put yourself willfully in the crosshairs when there isn't something to be gained." Writing down a few things the man switched about the fold of his legs while easing back into the stiff material of their chair. "So you don't wish to be an emotional scar to this "woman' because of her long life and the fact that she already carries the death of one lover with her. And you are alright with this?"

"Do I have much of a choice?" His words were caustic but lacking that violent edge they had held moments before, the bitter seed of defeat helping to cut that anger.

"Not really." This drably stated answer struck like a baseball bat to the stomach, fertilizing that defeatism which sapped his vim. "You are a hunter and a reckless one at that, your time is limited and hers" isn't. If anything she may not fully appreciate the difference given her vastly different scope of things and that could lead to problems later on. Where she may be your everything for the remainder of your brief life, you could just be a momentary distraction that-"

"She's not like that-!"

"And how are you to know?" Mach felt his rising anger catch at the back of his throat, knuckles white as impotence capped his rage. He honestly had no good answer to that. If anything that question hit one of those nasty little fears he worked not to think about right square in the head; for as much as he banged on about her being a woman as he understood them she was still very much an unknown. More so really as even though she was classed as an infernal by hunter taxonomy that didn't make her the infernals he was familiar with and so anything about her culture, views, or even what drove her species totally went out the window. Maybe his idea of what could be love and hers were different' maybe they were catastrophically incompatible in any actual romantic form beyond carnal and he didn't want to hurt her or get hurt himself finding out. Either way such thoughts neutered his anger, a dour expression holding to his features as he just fumed beneath the surface which the bastard seemed to take as affirmation of their views. "Look Mr. Turner, I'm not scolding you. What you're doing is healthy and forward thinking because you're trying to do what?s best for you."

Something about this ones approval of anything he did just felt sick and unpleasant, like he was most certainly on the wrong path. "Yeah....sure.....healthy."

"Healthier than some of the alternatives..." Scribbling down a few more notes the man flipped pages once more to another part of the notebook. "Speaking of, why don't you tell me about Lauren Boudreaux."

Mach

Date: 2016-06-10 07:38 EST
1 Sansreed

Mach's features already twisted sour in thought only turned to a darker shade of frown at that name. "Nothing to tell really..."

"Oh?" There was a peak of brow as the shrink fixed him with a granite gaze. "From purity records they show that you likely spent a fair amount of time with this individual prior to your abduction and that the two of you were likely romantically involved."

This drew a callous smirk from him. "I'm sure those reports also say I was tupping one of the captains of the Watch, making friendly with potential espers, and trying to breed with dogmorphs....when it's not theorizing my attempts to sleep my way into a fae crime family or earn favors by trading nookie with demi-goddesses or the such."

The man shifted uncomfortably giving Mach a little pause at just how much of that random ranting he just spewed really was theorized by purity! But the time to consider this was short as by the next beat the fellow was back to their dull rhythm after a few notes were taken. "Then what about the very real reports of you throwing around your weight to get this woman placed under armed security with you when she was brought in for some sort of domestic violence?"

Lips thinned as he held back a silent curse. Of course he always knew that that was going to come back and bite him in the ass to so openly help someone he cared for using his hunter resources so it's not like this inquiry wasn't expected. This foreknowledge; however, didn't make this situation any more pleasant though now that he was faced with it. "Look, she needed help and protection, two things I could provide in spades at that time so I provided them, yeah?"

"Do you always provide such broad protection to your acquaintances that need it or just those whom you've been seen to be very....'friendly' with."

And now his lips started to hurt as they worked to keep back a flood of curses that threatened to break free of that levy. "Why not if I have the means....provided a bit of help to a faun and a construct I tapped too, yeah' That should be back in you're 'very unapproved relations' part of your book there."

Dr. Lagern simply chuckled at that jab, head shaking lightly. "There isn't 'approved' or 'disapproved' relations Mr. Turner....just varying degrees of what?s healthy or not. Like Ms. Boudreaux seems to have some deep seated problems in her life if she requires protection under armed guard against a domestic partner turned perpetrator. Do you truly know that she's done nothing to aggravate or perpetrate the situation she's in?"

He could hear his jaw creak and pop softly under the strain of his barely contained anger at those accusations but once again the bastard hit upon one of those nasty paranoia's that scratched about in the dark depths of his mind. Of course he knew that there truly were just plain, evil gits out there that did bad things simply because. Knew the depths of monsters better than most frankly. But that knowledge didn't detract from his natural wariness towards the real possibility that there was something he didn't know which had created the situation as it was. And as much as he hated himself for thinking like this he'd lived through and experienced too much gray mire and betrayal in life not to be jaded and wary. "Well she does have a shapely and pert ass, yeah' And tits that-" "Mr. Turner, you're deflecting again."

"And you're being a dickbag in regards to someone I care for, yeah' She wasn't in some spat, she was assaulted by a monster in douchebag skin that had his way with her! Now maybe you're such a pissbag that you'd just sit on your thumbs and stand for that but not me! I don't abandon those I care about! Yeah, maybe that makes me a fucking idiot or an untrustworthy lout or what have you or anyone else but screw you!" Dr. Lagern was taken aback by the sheer ferocity of those croaked words....and frankly so was he. But then given the pot the man had been stirring this entire time it was inevitable a bubble of that hurt that he worked so hard to suppress would shake to the surface.

"Abandon..." That one sharp word was repeated, a few things mindlessly scrawled down before flipping a few pages. "Yes, now we're getting somewhere. Abandonment - you don't like it, do you? No....more you hate it; both when you're forced to do such and when it happens to you, isn't that right?"

"Give the quack a gold fucking star for discovering the biggest thing in psychiatry to date " folks don't like getting dicked. Hold on while I applaud your accomplishment..." The words were glib and full of mirth though his tone held a dangerously caustic edge to it that made the joke more threatening than livening. None the less he tried to occupy his hands with that dull motion of mock applause less his rising heckles draw the attention of the guard once more.

None of this seemed to dissuade the doctor from this line of dangerous prodding though as they recklessly pushed forward unfazed by his barely restrained hostility. "You're afraid of abandoning those close to you when you die so you keep people at arms length like Sarai or Lauren, isn't that right' And it's a sore wound when those few you open up to are perceived to do such to you like Serah or Ivera or Elena-"

"FUCK YOU!" The lounger tipped over with the speed the hunter took to his feet, lurching at the psychiatrist that visibly shrank at that burst of bellowing rage. He could take a lot of things, but that name was off the tables....a name and wound well beyond the line for this line of questioning. "You don't know a damn thing about me and you don't get to mouth off about what makes me tick or hurt!

"B-But this is how you progress....this is how you get over what holds you to the past. " The man's voice shook in obvious fear, that smug outer shell evaporating beneath the very real threat of the hunter. But despite this they pushed things, their hand shakily writing notes even as his looming shadow cast over them. "Mr. Turner, y-you're shackled by your pain....and it's holding you back from-

"SHUT! UP! You Taj'rek vik gurekthyl'n fucking piece of shit brained crap!" Those hands abandoned their writing as they went up in an attempt to both placate and perhaps shield from the hunter's fury, their voice reduced to panicked stutters as they attempted to reason with him. A wasted effort given the seething hatred that percolated in him, the blood rushing at the corners of his vision and blaring like a symphony in his ears. But it did give some dark part of him a moment's pause to gloat in satisfaction of seeing the psychiatrist reduced to this sniveling state. "Oh, what?s the matter, huh' Don't have anything smart to say now!" Some bullshit that I just gotta look on the bright side of things and let slide all the times I've been screwed!" Build a fucking bridge and get over everything a crap life has taught me, yeah!" You-"

It was only the shift of frantic movement registering in his periphery that alarmed him to the other that joined the maelstrom, a flick of cobalt to this individual finding the business end of a paralytic pepper spray canister aimed straight at his fool head. The young man dressed in a black jumper accented with reflective strips and the bulk of integrated body armor had been animated yet strangely silent until that vicious focus eased letting the world beyond his anger in.

"STEP BACK! STEP BACK NOW! ON YOUR KNEES, CROSS YOUR ANKLES, HANDS ON HEAD FINGERS LACED, DO IT NOW, SIR-!" Acute panic tinged their voice on the brink of cracking from a likely unfamiliarity with having to be commanding. Mach just sort of watched the young man for a long moment as he considered his options though really he already knew what he was going to do. The kid had called him sir after all" and so taking a deep, shaky breath he stepped back. His hands moved at a deliberate pace, lifting to lace atop his head as he backed off from the sniveling puss pile of a shrink. Putting some distance between he and the man Mach finally knelt and assumed the supplicate position, his head lulling forward, tiredly.

"You don't get to talk to me about her and what happened back then" and you don't get to judge me asshole." One last tired statement of defiance even as the young guard gave him a shove sending him flopping forward upon the floor, their knee digging into the middle of his back.

He sort of figured that this would be the end of things, earn him a one way ticket back to his cell and maybe a behavioral demerit' and in all honesty it was shaping up as such as his organic arm was forcibly wrenched back in the typical control manner for cuffing a perp. What he didn't expect was the shuffle of brown loafers (one of the few things he could see given his good and low vantage) that moved forward to him, the pressure being driven into his spine lessening slightly. "D-Donald! Let him up! Let him up!!"

There was a curious pause at that request, the young man likely bewildered by Mach's reckoning given the situation they'd ran in on. "B-But sir! He was about to-"

"He was opening up! We were getting to the meat of things-!"

"Nah doc I was just revving up to beat your ass man?" A muffled correction on his part because he was frankly liking the prospects of another behavioral demerit much better than having to sit around and talk to this tool any more.

"Sir, you heard what he said! I'm sorry but for your safety-

"Donald, you can stand in and watch over things but I'm not ending this session early. Now help him back to his seat or I'm going to call Roland to sort you out."

"I don't think?" The young man fell silent as a heavy tension filled the air" not that he knew what was going on above. The two could have been sharing a passionate snogging and he'd have been none the wiser given his crap perspective on things. But finally after a few moments he'd feel that pressure lift fully from his back, his hand released to his own devices. Giving that offended arm a few rolls he hazarded a glance upward at the young man and their stony expression which obviously wasn't pleased with what they were doing" not that he was any more so. Sullenly the guard offered him a hand but Mach refused the kind gesture, pushing himself up by his own power in a tiny display of pride that wasn't much like him. But then it seemed today was a day for behaviors unlike him as he moved over to pull the lounger back upright from his tantrum before his fine derriere flopped unceremoniously upon the cushions. Sitting back with a flourish his hands dropped to tent atop his stomach while his feet kicked up and into a leisurely cross at the ankles as though nothing at all had transpired.

"That's right son you're not paid to think, yeah' Just pretentious little quacks like Doc Pisspanties here who obviously doesn't know when to drop things before getting his head kicked in. Hope your reflexes are good, might test them later on..." His tone did little to hide the sour falsity of those glib words as he worked to get comfortable. The guard shot him a hard look but seemed disinterested or keen enough not to engage the dark humored hunter in a contest of wits or insults. Instead they simply stepped back placing themselves diplomatically out of the way but still between him and Dr. Lagern who seemed to have recovered from their scare. Settling on that smug expression once more the man took to his seat once more, that notepad looked over and added to for a bit before their voice finally filled the void of that awkward silence.

"Feeling better?"

Mach simply rolled his shoulder dismissively to inquiry, his lone cobalt gaze settled upon a moment in the distant past.

Lagern waited for a bit as if he expected some sort of witty retort yet when none came they tried to segue forward with an awkward cough. "Right. So, abandonment, seems like that's a strong topic for you?" Another pause was meet by more silence from him as he just focused himself inwards, his attention drifting further and further from the shrink and the present, back into the solace he could find in his past. "Do you feel that Ms. Elena Sapinsky abandoned you when she was killed" Or that you abandoned her because of your perceived failure?"

Mach felt that prosthetic hand clench uncontrollably, whatever servos powering the motion creaking softly under the self-inflected strain. It wasn't that he didn't want to get behind that hands idea but the schmooze forced himself to calm down in the face of that intentional baiting. No, he was done being poked and prodded like some damn animal today, being forced to face all that crap he worked hard not to think about sober less he crush beneath the weight of such thoughts. He was slow to warm about discussing such to begin with and usually found himself getting shut down before he ever made any headway, and so it was like hell he would spill the beans to this jerk even if he wanted to. And so he just kept up with that most telling of off behaviors for him " he didn't let himself fly off the handle as the other pissed over what he held as sacred, didn't let emotions drive him as oft he was prone to do.

The doc scratched down a few notes, watching him patiently over the course of a minute or so before their smug, friendly expression tarnished just a little with a frown. "Mr. Turner" Mr. Turner?" You can't just ignore me or these problems that plague you. They'll just keep eating away till even if you find someone good for you to be with you yourself will just end up sabotaging any attempt at a happy relationship with them."

The words stung with how true they seemed to be ringing in his life right about now but he didn't give the man any satisfaction of such as he just kept up with that sullen silent treatment. He was done showing this one his stupid and so for the rest of that session he kept up with simply showing them his stubborn. Focusing on smiles of the past he finally got that artificial hand to release that basal anger it was responding to as he whiled away the rest of the session until finally he was dragged back to his cell. The smallest of victories perhaps but he would take it until tomorrow when he had another session with a different jerk to look forward to.

Mach

Date: 2016-06-19 21:07 EST
8 Sansreed

Breakfast: Apple x 3, Orange x 3, Toast x 4, Coffee x 2, Porridge XXL Lunch: Sandwich (Bologna) x3, Chips XXL, Fruit Cup Dinner: Salisbury Steak x 2, Mashed Potatoes L, Mixed Vegetables XXL, Fruit Cup, Coffee

Workout: Done - Up Explosive Push-ups 10, Up Jump Squats 10, Rest Towel Wringers (forearm still hurts from accident w/ Grail T.)

Prisoner Notes: Charles C. (792776) " Att M x 2 razor, Grail T. (234555) " Att M Accident

Weather: Gray with a chance of concrete. Yard time slated for Sorndort, real weather report withstanding.

Notable: Got approached by Mrs. Sterling today after a session with Mr. Craps Rainbows Dort. Swear that social counselor must watch children's television programming whenever he isn't here trying to show us criminals the magic of sharing and caring. Not sure if it's a really good con game or what but seems unpleasantly unfazed by attempts at crude humor. Going to have to try a different tact with him. Luckily don't have to worry about such with Lagern as we've been given a little break after last session. Guess Donald had more pull than the bastard figured.

Anyway, Mrs. Sterling, another cookies and crap touchie feely counselor that works in group sessions with mages. Does the whole circle jerk of feelings thing and singing hokey campfire peacenik songs to try and make magic abusers learn empathy or some such bull. Asked if I'd be willing to attend some of her sessions; sort of a get over fear and prejudice thing by interacting with that which you fear. Seems kind of stupid to me, like tossing a tank of tarantula on an arachnophobe, but guess that's why her living is made roasting nuts over a campfire and listening to wieners whinge and my living is made trying to avoid getting my nuts and wiener roasted.

Not something I'm real big on usually, getting used as a freakshow, but if you are what you are you might as well flaunt it yeah' Though really I think the big reason I said yes was cause if I go to her stupid therapy things I can get out of my own stupid therapy things. So yeah, probably get to do this sometime next few weeks. Get to go be a freak on a leash, whoop whoop. Maybe I should brush up on that one earthrealm song I learned about ? Kumbaya I think it is. That outta go over swimmingly!

Anyway, that's all for now. Gonna try to get some shuteye. See you next report.

Mach

Date: 2016-06-29 16:10 EST
11 Sansreed

Mach found today, as every day down here, a grueling challenge. His balance was precarious at best as he staved off that darkness that threatened to swallow him whole, the crushing weight almost unbearable but he knew if he failed here all would be lost. And so he struggled valiantly yet more and more he found his resolve crumbling, his will to fight dwindling until his last reserves of willpower depleted. The darkness washed over him, that weight falling and dragging him with it into the shadowy depths of the abyss.

Or so it would have if not for that sharp bloom of pain that wrenched him back from the brink. An unseemly snort escaping as he jerked upright, hand lifting to rub at that offended flesh of his chin as the assaulting pencil fell away with a soft clatter. Reluctantly his lone cobalt eye opened drowsily to the sight of his own personal hell - stacks of boring and dry tomes towering about him with one in particular propped open to the page he'd been tasked to decipher though the amount of writing in the notebook before him spoke volumes of his failure at this task. Oh yes, hell indeed for one as he who was used to an active life of adventure and peril beyond the prospects of a nasty paper cut or having a stack of books fall on you though he feared he might well learn what death by boredom was like at this rate!

"Jeez....can't they just have me break big rocks into smaller rocks with my dick or something?" A grumbling whine to no one in particular as he flopped back, blue eye blue gaze washing over the sea of desk that occupied that cavernous space. Some were set apart while some were herded together into archaic blobs of work surface with folks in orange jumpers occupying each with the same hellscape spread out before them as he though most everyone else looked to be rather enthralled with the task set before them. Damn madscis and their hyper focus! Of course this didn't mean that everyone was engrossed in the brainy but menial task at hand thought such were a definite minority. And of that minority he was likely the only one who was dissatisfied because he was dumb as a post and found this work to be both mind numbing and brain hurting versus not simply because none of the texts truly interested them.

Letting a sigh escape as he stretched a few pops were coaxed from his neck as he rolled it lazily back and forth. His attention washed mindlessly over the others hard at work while he slacked for a moment or ten though the shift of movement his direction drew an end to such indolence. Usually the guards seemed more lenient towards his frequent bouts of listlessness given a shared view of the task he was forced to do which made him wonder if maybe he'd done something....er, more....to aggravate them. But then watching the gruff fellow in the black jumper move it was obvious that their approach had more purpose behind it than to merely scold him which was both a point of curiosity and some dread.

The older man eyed him warily as they came up to his side. "Elitia T. 881972 stand up and assume transport position." They spoke with a gravelly rumble that just commanded respect and response, an obvious veteran of the criminal justice system.

Not that such did much to rile him given the sort of life he'd lead that had him chewed up and spat out by craps bigger than this guy but he obliged nonetheless as there was really no good just a lot of bad reasons to piss on this particular guards parade. "Have I done something wrong?" A simple enough question posed even as he stood and crossed his hands before him, feet apart so as to accept the shackles from the guard that followed in the gruff ones wake.

"Have a special pass visitor here to see you." The response was rumbled matter-of-factually as they looked over the job done by the junior guard with a discerning eye. For his part Mach just sort of blinked at that answer and how unexpected it was. Visitors to this remote as hell prison was odd enough much less someone able to acquire a special pass that allowed them to pull him from whatever the hell he was up to. And it was a visitor to boot....not some medical exam or administrative meeting or special shirnk session but an honest to goodness visit. The schmooze couldn't quite fully extinguish the mildly glowing smile that worked to wash across his features even as the younger guard finished hobbling him.

"Goody for me....lead the way old chap?" Classic smarm held to him as the man simply snorted in response, taking point while the younger guard followed up from behind forming the most ineffective chain gang ever....if so because only one of them was chained. Trudging through the library it was hard to ignore a few of the icy stares he got from those few madsci's that could hold a grudge against a group like the hunters or him in particular. Something like this only worked against him, flaunted his 'privilege' in the face of those who did not have such and gave him the worst kind of attention....but honestly he really couldn't care about all of that at the moment. He certainly should have, of course, but that thought alone could not squash the excitement for what, frankly, he probably desperately needed " a reprieve with a friendly face not out to kill him or pick apart his thoughts to analyze him.

And so rather than deny the special visit with a stiff upper lip he instead opted to take the rep hit and give fuel to the all vehemence the gangs in this place had against him. Plus if he was visiting he wasn't beating his head into a book so double win for the moment even if it might have meant a shanking later. Stepping out of the library they moved into the labyrinth of stone passages that were confusing to follow by yet universal with the other three major wings in this place. A deterrent against those inside plotting escape or those outside making any plans to mount a rescue. Of course on the downside it made getting anywhere in a timely fashion a bear, particularly if you could only take wee little one foot shuffle steps at a time.

Moving along he was escorted through a menagerie of elevators that lifted them higher and higher in the complex, ever closer to the roof which was the main way in or off of this cheery little rock. The visitation wing was one of the top most floors as he remembered from past visitations to this place in a much more appropriate manner. Stepping off that last elevator he was escorted to a screening and search area for....processing....for that visit. At least the body cavity checks were no longer routine practice, but the rest of the humiliating strip down and scan was unpleasant nonetheless. Changed into an orange disposable jumper with explosive permanent dye packs sewn into it's the extremities he was finally walked to the heavy metal door which opened up to the visitation suite.

Larger than his prison cell, the five meter cube was still scarcely decorated with a drab metal table, a few padded chairs, and a 'cozy' full sized bed for more....intimate visits....so long as you and your partner were totally okay with being the subject of voyeurism across no less than four different spectrum's. Perhaps it was a bit of an outdated luxury but then a number of these folks were incarcerated beyond the payment of their debt to society, only being held because they refused to give up that which made them a danger and having carefully avoided any slip up that gave the justice system leeway to force such from them.

Stepping through the heavy metal door that closed with a heavy thud behind him the schmooze wandered lazily over to seat himself upon one of those chairs, lone cobalt trained upon the far door opposite the one he'd entered through. A sharp buzz, the resounding clacks of locks being released, and finally with a hiss the other heavy metal door opened to reveal who had come all the way out to nowhere and attained special permission just to see little ol' him. And as the door swung open he couldn't help that dirty grin that curled upon rugged features at the face that stood on the other side.

Mach

Date: 2016-07-21 18:59 EST
11 Sansreed (cont)

"Oren "Buck" Cistros..." The name left his lips as they curled upwards in a grin that near spread ear to ear. "...you stupid sonofabitch!"

"Hey honey, welcome home..." A dirty grin all their own spread across broad cut features framed by a host of disheveled black locks and a pervasive stubble that only exemplified an almost impish quality to their expression. Dressed in a simple work uniform of brown slacks with an army khaki button down tucked in with collar loose and sleeves rolled up the man hardly looked the part of a soldier save the thunder bolt, scepter, sword, and wolf insignia patch on their right shoulder or the pips that denoted them as a 1st Lieutenant.

Standing from his seat Mach moved over to meet the man in a hearty hug, the sort with manly grunts and loud claps on the back ending with each fellow scuffing the others hair before holding their faces for inspection. One almost could have construed this as something romantic and intimate save for the manic grins on each fellows face and the elation over passion that wore upon them. "Your mugs as ugly as ever Buck!"

"Fuck Mach, still haven't grated off that butt chin of yours I hear from that asshole above still tooting hot air!" Playful words that almost worked to hide the true attention of amber gaze upon the black eye patch the schmooze now sported along with a less than flattering buzz cut. "But damn it's good to still see you kicking..."

"Mostly..." Cheery enough grin offered as he held up that artificial hand while stepping back, turning to wander back to his seat which he perched upon like some craven raven, butt planted firmly along the ridge of the chair back with feet tucked on the seat. "Still got three legs so that's a plus at least. What has you out in these neck of the woods?"

A dirty smirk escaped the man at that poke of humor from him, a little of that tension leaving them. "Sure hope you're not doing a lot of 'kicking' in here with that thirder of yours....less that's what floats yer boat nowadays, yeah?" They cackled in glee at the dirty look he shot them, hand lifting up in mock apology. "Just saying! Anyway, got asked to do an escort of a fiver I caught in Trisbell down to here. The sort of stuff you usually give to support grunts but they were short handed and when I heard the destination and knowing who would be waiting for me, well, this I just had to see man."

"Aren't you a sweetie..." His tone was drab as he leveled a glare at the fellow.

"Like cream on pie man..." Moving to the table the man hopped their rump upon the metal surface hands fishing into his pockets. "So how in the hell did you fuck up so bad you ended up in the freak clink?"

Mach rolled his shoulders in a blase shrug. "Oh, you know, blew up some infrastructure, killed a crap load of guys with my rugged good looks, kicked the stuffing out of a civie before pumping two to the pan, burned down half a fucking warehouse toasting some horror or another" the usual shit?"

A low whistle escaped Oren, head shaking in pity or astonishment. "Man, when you done fuck up, you don't dick around do you!?" The two shared a dirty smirk though Mach's quickly became a pitiful pout with gimmie hands and everything as he caught sight of that pack of cigarettes leaving the others pocket. Despite their derisive snort at the pitiful display they still handed over the pack of cigarettes along with the half pack of matches they'd obviously brought just so it would pass the security checkpoint' softie. "But come on, you had to have done more than that to deserve being shoved into this particular sort of hell. This just smacks of a personal vendetta" sorta like when you and the Ice Queen broke up?"

He was appreciative of the efforts the man went through to bring him lung cancer but that last comment still warranted a dim gaze with that lone cobalt blue eye. "Come on man don't go there, that was a just a screwy situation with no one at fault-"

"Dude, you got arrested and charged for misconduct. She saw you locked in prison for a month over that!" A frank observation as they leveled a wary gaze back at him.

"Details, details?" Waving away the skepticism about that topic he returned to the act of lighting up that ciggy before handing the pack and matches back to the other hunter so as they could greedily join him. "Anyway, think the reason I'm here is cause they might be a little frightened I'm keeping more of an ace up my sleeve than I let on." To this he pulled that flesh colored glove off exposing the gunmetal black prosthesis beneath.

A brow ticked upwards at the reveal, their gaze wandering as they checked out the workmanship of the artificial limb. "Damn, I heard you were put through the grinder but this is Permiatic sorta BS right there?"

Mach couldn't help but chuckle at that inappropriate little crack at the war that had been, for all intents and purposes, a horror show. Many a soldier had come back from it missing bits, pieces, and/or parts when they weren't just ground up or spit roasted wholesale. Sort of an uncomfortable thought that he'd acquired all his missing bits long after his participation in such a shit show, but then his war injury from then happened to involve being chewed nearly in two by a dragon so it wasn't like he'd missed out.

Of course the joke seemed all the more inappropriate, in his eyes at least, since Buck had been cut loose from the hunter's academy five months into the armistice so they'd missed all of the fighting. Not that he was terribly nationalistic or felt entitled as a veteran of such a calamity but it still sort of ticked him off to hear someone blowing smoke out their ass about something they really had no clue about. "" I guess....But yeah, disabled the limiters on my caster and went to town with a hell blaze/dispel combo. Melted away the big bad and most the wall behind it but the backlash crisped my hand and slagged my caster."

Oren just blinked at the nonchalant manner that information was presented. "Wait, wait, you slagged not only the better part of a warehouse but your own caster!" Shit dude..."

Mach took a drag off his cigarette, savoring the burn as he watched the others expression shift from awe to mortified and finally to puzzlement. "Yeah, S2 sort of stuff. Not the first time I pulled such off which I think is what makes the brass skittish. So they shoved me in here to keep an eye on me."

Oren's features scrunched mildly as they took in and contemplated what was said. " Shit, no wonder....I'm surprised you just lost an arm from trying crap like that man. Usually you'd think that kind of spell slinging would suck you dry or cook you to a crisp being a low level assaulter like me. Have you been holding out?"

And now it was his turn to think on those words, his lower lip worried between teeth as he thought on that subject which had been weighing heavily on his mind for a while now. "Maybe....or maybe it's just the place, yeah' Rhy'Din has leagues more etheric energy just kicking around....a lot of it the eggheads don't really get either. I mean they say we shouldn't really be able to tap into it but you know how things go with this line of work and saying never. But out there I sort of feel miserable from the near constant headache and itchiness that just crawls about but at the same time I feel....powerful....more able if that makes sense. Just get the wild notion like I can pull crap like that and, to a degree, I can though I think I may have hit the upper limit on that." Motioning with his prosthesis once more he settled into a slouch atop that chair.

"Huh, more able eh...?" They thought over that mildly before shaking it away. "Well don't rely too much on that shit; ain't healthy for glass monsters like us to be fooling around with that sorta stuff and I'm sure it's just burning what little of you is left, yeah?"

"Not healthy for folks in general to get tortured for days, bits removed, and otherwise beat to death either so...

Buck winced sympathetically to that list, head shaking. "Point....but still, the candle that burns like a fucking torch goes out like one too..." Letting out a lazy plume of smoke they gave him a once over with that lustrous gaze. "How you holding up after all that anyway' I mean, I can't even being to image what that sorta shit does to a person."

To this Mach simply shrugged, a motion given to his mostly whole form. "Got better."

A hand rose to tap on their temple mildly. "What about upstairs...?"

There was an uncomfortable pause as they were one of the few, aside from the lines of shrinks, to ask him such. It, honestly, left him at a bit of a loss of how to deflect but he didn't dare dally long given the surveillance equipment likely recording everything being said to be dissected by the shrinks later. "Oh I'm fine! Got under my skin but can't get in my head, yeah' Too stupid for that..."

"Hmm....right..." There was a definite disbelief in the mannerisms but they seemed willing to drop the line of investigation as no hunter liked to put under the grill. Such was a widely shared understanding between their lot; to be there for each other in a way most likely could never understand to be but also to not pry and let each own live as they saw fit. Probably not the healthiest of ideologies but then what of being a hunter was"

Watching with those amber eyes for a moment longer in some non-verbal plight of comfort, the other hunter finally set to motion as they seemed to remember something. Leaning lazily they dug once more into their pockets. "Well whatever, so long as you don't start fucking ducks or painting things with blood. But that reminds me that I got a present for you? little shot to the morale?" With a few more tugs the man finally fished out a plastic baggie which looked to contain a sizeable sliver of technology. It didn't take Mach more than a couple of moments before a sly grin curled on him at the recognition of that thin object. A lazy grin of their own found the other as they handed over the sealed baggie containing Personal Effect 881972.7.C-R" or as he knew it his cellphone...

Mach

Date: 2016-07-28 20:25 EST
11 Sansreed (cont)

"How the hell you convince security to let you bring this to me" Thought free tech wasn't allowed this deep in?" His tone was cautious though he didn't let a little thing like the possibly of getting bum rushed by a team of security guards stop him from ripping open that tamper proof sealed baggie like a kid on Christmas.

For his concern Oren just sort of shrugged as they worked their cigarette. "Yeah' but the warden's got a soft spot for hunters since they're a war vet and I'm pretty good at spinning a sob story so I was able to get you special clearance to check your messages. Also reception here is understandably non-existent so no possibility of trying to setup some naughty rendezvous or another" and I think the warden would like you to stop getting into so much trouble and maybe hopes this'll make you feel sympathy for their plight."

That last reason drew a smirk from him as he tossed aside the ruined baggie and held in the power button until the phones logo danced to life upon its screen. "Hey not my fault all these idiots want a piece of my fine, fine ass man. Adoring public and all?" Humor sparkled in the corner of his eye despite how truly perilous his situation in this place was.

It wasn't wasted irony on the other as they snorted in mild entertainment. "Oh yeah, I'm sure they all just wanna be your friend and trade styling tips with iron pipes?"

A smirk left him though his attention sat squarely on the U.T.R.A. logo that spun lazily on the screen, the security protocols finishing their boot up before the much anticipated "Swipe to Unlock" finally popped up. Moving deftly he unlocked the phone and went straight to his message application not quite able to hide the edge of excitement in his motions. As much as he rebuked such a notion given what he was trying to do with how he'd left things he still couldn't deny that he was keenly starved for some sort of connection with those he'd grown to care about' even if such may have been words of scorn, worry, or admonishment.

And it seemed Buck was well aware of his conflicted interests as they shifted to pull out their own cell phone so as to dick around on it giving him an excuse to take his time with his" even though he knew they were getting as much service here as he was. Not one to piss on kindness he turned his attentions back to his phone, bracing himself before diving into the bevy of messages that lay waiting for him. What he found was a mixed bag of a handful of inquiries from fellow hunters and other military associates, several from the few friends he'd maintained in Tang outside the military, a variable crap ton of messages running the gambit of worried to pissed from his family' yet the more he went through the texts he found his excitement waning. Reaching the end he moved to his e-mail handling app and began wading through the waves of spam and junk mail for those few and far between nuggets of worthwhile content which were consumed greedily though left him deflated as he found the end of those as well.

Of course he could justify the complete lack of messages from anyone back in Rhy'din as his privileges to trans-dimensional communication being rescinded or else the work of some government censor or another such thing. If anything he ventured there wasn't a scenario where they would have allowed him to continue receiving communications from that land given the circumstances that found him here. But even still had no one tried to send him anything before his rights had been revoked" Surely such happened a week or so after his sentencing given the speed of bureaucracy which the military worked at so something should have gotten through, right' And what of his clever or persistent acquaintances, had none of them been concerned enough to try to work around such a blockade" Hell, even those he knew for a fact could crack such like Regi had been conspicuously quiet as though out of sight out of mind was the way of things between them.

His mind ran through a myriad of such conjectures and possibilities and came up with a menagerie of perfectly sensible, valid, and/or reasonable explanations for each, but all the logic and sense in the world did nothing against the sinking feeling in his chest or the cold pit that welled in his stomach when faced with reality. It was the same sense of existential despair he had that first month after he'd been transferred to Rhy"Din and found that the world he left behind cared little for his passing: poker games went on as scheduled, lovers moved on to others, and friends took his departure as little more than another of his jokes in poor humor before mostly dropping off the radar of his life. A depressing state of affairs that sort of drove home the cold truth of the transitory nature of his life as a hunter and how such left him with a pathetic excuse for roots and poorly invested in by others other than those forced to such by the ties of blood.

Visibly deflating upon that chair he limply dropped the phone onto his lap, his focus turning back to the comfort of his cigarette as his thoughts wandered. For Oren's part they seemed rather tickled by what they'd found on their phone, a mild chuckle escaping as they glanced over to see if maybe he wanted in on the action. Apparently he didn't look as such as their humor flattened nearly as quickly as it had risen, their phone set down thoughtfully on the table they sat upon as they turned to quiet contemplation themselves. Silence weighed heavy between the two of them over a few minutes before the other finally stirred. "Trouble on the homefront?"

This warranted a tick of brow as he gave the man a wary, almost puzzled look.

"The "homefront?" heard from some of the others you were supposedly getting cozy with someone, yeah' Real doll house life sorta shit and all that. Looks like maybe you got some word of trouble in paradise."

Mach felt his expression tense a little at that unexpected question. That was the last topic of conversation he wanted to touch upon, especially after the blow of this "morale booster." But at the very least it was a hurt that he was familiar with deflecting about given all the practice he'd been getting with the shrinks. Taking a casual drag from his cigarette so as to mask the glum expression that tried to curl upon rugged features he settled back with a tired sigh to sell the point. "Yeah' sorta."

Those amber depths followed his movements with mild interest, a drag taken of their own cancer stick as they let their attention drift. "Looks like maybe "were" is the operative word?" He bit back that scowl that rose in response to the other so casually cutting through to the core of this particular heartache. It wasn't like he was surprised given how observant hunters as a whole tended to be but that didn't make him any more ok when the tables were turned on him. And it was certainly making him regret putting this up for fodder over the previous pain but for their part Buck simply continued to feign ignorance to his annoyance, probably the one saving grace at the moment. "So what man, thought she was "the one" that was going to look past yer shit' See the tender princess soul that lies at yer heart and look past what a big bitch you became in the slammer?"

The mocking words drew a snort from him; the sting a welcome distraction from the avenues his mind tried to wander. "Nah man, nothing like that. Always sorta figured things wouldn't work out between us one way or another, not with how screwy we started."

"What' You keep "hurting" her being what you are?" The man went so far as to add bunny ear finger quotes with that for what he figured was in case he were too dense to figure out the satire in their words" jerk.

"Sorta" yeah. But more. Anyway, a strong relationship can weather a lot of hardships like that' I think" probably. At least folks keep telling me it's possible to find middle ground and such; change without looking to do such or so it goes. Besides, she liked some of-"

"Whoooa, whoa - no." Arms rose and waved in a clear halting motion as the man shook their head. "You are totally not going to brag at me about your ability to find freaky, kinky girls man. Not happening?"

Mach paused as he was blocked from making that whips and chains comment he'd been saving up, something of a pout crossing rugged features. He didn't have much to brag about so it was sort of a big thing those few times that he did! "Spoil sport?"

"Only when it comes to another man's D?" Dirty smirk was met by one of his own, the two of them finding some middle ground in their terrible humors as they took to lazing once more. "So then what the hell you mean screwy if it ain't the usual "Oh~ I luvs yooou! Oh~ we can work past any problems babe! Oh~ I wanna a D that works and ain't gonna croak on me, goodbye lo~ser?"?" There was a touch of causticness in the others tone that spoke of their own experience getting the shaft for what they were. It almost made him want to reach out and give the guy a reassuring pat on their shoulder but then hunters weren't usually keen on sitting about and licking each others wounds.

"Heh' yeah, actually pretty spot on to the straw that broke the levy. But no, I mean' I don't know. I thought she could understand me, you know?"

"And how the hell was she to do that unless she was dying too and keeping folks away because of it. Or was, you know, a trouble rousing psychopath?" The words were spoken snarky enough though the hunter paused at the uncomfortable look that apparently crossed him. "Wait, no shit!?"

Taking a long drag from the cigarette he just sort of stewed on the question a moment, contemplating just how much he should share with the guy. It wasn't like he didn't trust Buck, hell they were one of the few hunters left whom he'd actually want on his back if crap hit the fan; but there was a definite divide between trusting someone to keep your ass from getting blown off and trusting someone with personal matters of the heart. Finally letting that ashen cloud coil from his lips he offered a sullen nod of affirmation.

This seemed to floor the other or at least surprised them enough that they let a little of that slack jawed awe show for a moment before recovering with a sly ashing of their cigarette. "Well" damn. So-"

"It was complicated." He cut the other off swiftly before things avalanched beyond his comfort level of answering. "Just' yeah. Not a psycho' well, not more than usual with the fairer gender at least. I don't know" just thought there might've been some understanding with some of our similar shit situations but?" He felt his shoulders slump a little as he fell to nursing his cigarette in quiet contemplation.

"Ah?" A tried grunt of compatriotism as they followed suit for a few, burning down their cigarette until it was time for another. Catching that pack once more they popped up a cig for themselves before wordlessly handing it over in a rather correct assumption that he'd want another. Lighting off that previous butt the man took a few tentative drags before curiosity finally got the better of them. "So' are you going to at least have the last laugh on them?"

Mach wasn't sure what expression crossed him at those words but whatever it was it had the other man leaning away, hands raising apologetically. "That was a joke man! Jeez....But still, if she's cruising to daisy pushing like us then-"

"She got better." The interjection was blunt, almost sardonic if there were any hint humor to be found in that tired cobalt pool.

"Oh?"

"It was after that that we decided to try the relationship bit and" yeah."

"Ohh""

"Suppose about now she's probably shacking it with the guy of her dreams" like, literally a guy she'd been dreaming of by time we broke up?" He finally deflated with a tired sigh, head lulling back as he stared up at the ceiling. "Shit, I'm a fucking idiot..."

"No objections to the obvious there man, I mean jeez" why'd you even go after that?"

Mach slumped sullenly at that question he'd heard all too often in the past few months. "I dunno, I just' it was her, you know" I" just really liked her" wanted to make her happy and smile and be there with her and it felt right and" fuck, I don't know how to explain it. Emotions and feelings and crap beyond just a twitch in the pants. Maybe it was just a pipedream though' or I was just fooling myself so hard because I wanted?" His fingers flexed trying to grab the illusive concepts he was trying to explain as well as in abject agitation that he was even discussing this topic. After a few more futile attempts he finally gave up with a shrug as he finished that second cigarette in near record time. Plucking that dead soldier from his lips he crushed it mindlessly into his palm before reaching out for the pack once more.

"Guess we all get that itch occasionally"to have what know know we can't, be understood or shit like that..." Arms crossed over his chest as they watched that pack land lazily next to them, Mach gratefully sucking down a few grateful drags of that new cancer stick. "Well good riddance to bad rubbish way I see it. You should be thankful you dodged that bullet with all her baggage and hangups."

Mach felt his teeth grind as his jaw worked in agitation. "Hey, lay off, okay' If someone royally screwed it here it was me, yeah' Being me, a pest and a fuck up, are about the only two things I'm consistently and really good at after all so yeah, brunt of this breakup I lump on me. But I'm not so blind as to fool myself that there weren't problems on her side of the equation too' well, after a while at least. Few months of perspective helps with that....with a lot of things..."

A lazy snort escaped Buck as a plume of smoke jerked about by the shake of his head in emphasis. "You're a piece of work ain'tcha" Working into a chuckle the man unwound his arms from across his chest only to stuff them into his pockets casually. "Look man, I ain't gonna say I understand shit of what all went down, and I ain't no head doc interested in figuring such either. All I got to say is that you gotta do you, yeah' And she'll do her....or her Mr. Right..." They shrugged mildly, a lopsided grin for his scowl. "But you get what I mean. Worlds full of folks and their hangups and ain't a person alive that's got hats for all their hooks and someone elses. If there ain't enough hat sharing and compromise at looking at some ugly bare ass hooks on each others wall then its only for the better to shuffle and find somewhere else to lay your hat, right?"

Mach just sort of stared at the other for a long moment in contemplating silence before his expression twisted in a smirk. "Stick to being a fireball target Oren cause you suck at being a shrink....really, hats?" Despite himself he couldn't help but chuckle at the sage advice given so terribly.

Buck joined in on the moment of levity before finishing off their smoke, another snagged as well from the quickly dwindling pack. "Hey, can't be too high brow cause we're a particularly stupid lot!" Chuckling lightly leaned forward, a drag taken off their cig as they cast a knowing look at him. "So anyway guess shit hit the wall with 'the one', happens with frequency with us, but come on, that ain't the Mach I know! I know you gotta have another heart or two lined up for your grand return, yeah' Don't leave a brother hanging!"

Those words sobered up that levity like a bucket of ice to the face, his grin turning a touch anemic as he took a calming drag from his cigarette. Not the Mach they knew....words that seemed to ceaselessly come back to haunt him and bite him in the ass it seemed. Of course he couldn't fault Oren for seeing him as such given that they'd only known him for five years and thus only as Mach, but it was still a pisser to have such thrown in his face, particularly in regards to this subject. But then what was probably worse of all was that Buck actually idolized him for being such a schmooze, and that was just one depressing notion too many to contemplate with everything else at the moment. "No comment." The man balked at that but he just cut them off with a shake of his head. "Anyway, that assumes there would be some 'grand return' which is pretty unlikely given how hard I screwed the pooch....literally in some senses which you know has purity in a tissy."

The man looked like they were going to counter such before that word was dropped so casually " purity. The boogiemen for those who were, funnily enough, considered boogiemen by the general populace. It was telling that the mere mention of that organization had the other falling silent, their smarm ebbing back to silently working over their cigarette for a tick or two before amber gaze lifted to them once more. "Well, ain't you just to give up because some tight wads tell you to lie down, yeah?"

Mach just worked his cigarette for a few silent moments, lone cobalt gaze watching the glow of the ember at the end. "Guess not....but it might be for the better, yeah' Was getting a little too cozy there, trying to lay roots and shit which ain't me either..." A thin smile curled on rugged features at those words he'd almost stopped believing in.

"Well, don't you wanna go back" I mean, sure, heartbreak and stuff but it always sounded like you were enjoying yourself out there from the texts and e-mails. And you can enjoy a place and not lay roots, yeah' Sorta a specialty of us glass monsters " the game and all that we play. Keep the normies happy and the monsters at bay."

A dry smirk left him as he watched the ember of his cigarette wheeze and extinguish against the filter. "I don't know....it's an awfully dangerous place..." He just ignored the puzzled look that the other gave him not really feeling like trying to explain what he'd meant given that 'danger' was hardly something that ever phased hunters.

"Aw come on, don't tell me you're becoming that big of a pu-"

"Five minute warning Lt. Cistros."

The voice buzzed out from overhead silencing both men with that warning. A glance was shared between them before Buck caught up the of cigarettes, popping out one more for him somberly. "For the road, yeah?"

He looked at the offering for a moment before accepting it with a mild nod, the matches snagged as he settled the cancer stick between his lips for one last hurray. Lighting up the two of them smoked in silence, the minutes ticking by until Mach finally set to motion, that abandoned cell phone plucked from his lap and glanced at once more. A stoic calm fell over his expression as he held down the power button to turn the device back off before offering it back to the other. "Hey man, thanks for this. Good for prespective."

A thin smile curled on those broad features as they reached to take the phone back, the destroyed baggie snagged up as well. "Hey, it's no problem man. We hunters gotta stick together, yeah' Stand by each other when no one else will, band of brothers like."

"Yeah..." He pushed a thin smile of his own upon rugged features as he finished off his cigarette. "But still, thanks man. Good to do something than just focusing on surviving in here. About the only thing I can think about really."

Buck watched them for a moment before nodding softly, seeming to attach on to this excuse for why things seemed so off from that last little bit of serious talk. "Oh yeah, I get that. Shit....can't imagine how rough it must be having to deal with these animals day in and day out."

There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth at the offhandedly bigoted statement but he kept his composure with a simple shrug. "It is what it is. Always figured there had to be some comeuppance for some of the literal tail I chase."

The others smile grew at that statement, that uncomfortable tension easing as he started to sound more like the usual Mach that they'd come to know. "So you think some old druid god is punishing you for getting the wood on with one of their fury tailed fauns then you sick bastard?"

"Maybe more a machine god for plugging into one of their constructs..." He pushed a dirty grin as they shared in an immature laugh.

"Damn man, hadn't heard of that one. Not even I have played naughty with a golem or homunculus! You are one dirty dog man!"

And just like that the two of them fell into the comfortable routine of mindless banter that was so innocuous between hunters. The game of half truths and weaving lies that let them vent but not get too close in on subjects both private or uncomfortable. Buck and him were close, but they were certainly no Gin though he figured that was probably for the best given how his reliance on others was affecting him. "Hey, this one had all the right curves and squish in all the right places man! Freaky but not that freaky!"

"Sure, sure, whatever helps you and your bunkmate sleep harder, I mean easier, at night man!" This warranted a smack to the man's arm who simply laughed at his annoyance though it wasn't much of such. He truly was glad for the break in the monotony of his sentence and for the fuel for thought given how insular the world inside these concrete walls were.

Sliding off of his chair he met the man in another thumping hug as they both heard the sound of approaching footfalls towards the doors leading into that sterile chamber. "You take care Mach, yeah' Be careful in here....don't want to be holding a seat in my poker game for a deadman you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah, you say that now but after I clean you out you'll be wishing I got the shiv in here."

"You're on!" A few last pats and the men separated. Mach was about to just turn and walk off before the crisp motion of the other caught his attention. A soft snort escaped him and that somber expression that held to rugged features but despite himself he turned to return the gesture " heels together, chest out, and a clean snap of arm as he gave a salute back to the fellow hunter.

And just like that the two of them broke into smiles as they turned about very much in the way of hunters " friendly to greet no matter how long the time passed and yet quick enough on departing back to their respectively transitory lives. "Don't hurt you're head too much breaking big rocks into smaller ones!"

"Nah, they're having me help the academics decipher texts and shit."

Oren cracked at this. "Need some legal consul" I think that's considered cruel and unusual for a dumbass like you!"

"Ha! Maybe. You keep safe out there Buck. Don't plan to get arrested after getting out for robbing a grave afterall!? A hearty laugh was shared between the two until that heavy metal door hissed shut behind him and Mach the schmoozy hunter once more settled into the role of Elitia T. 881972 as he assumed the position to be checked over and shackled once more.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-03 04:08 EST
18 Sansreed

"Elitia, wait!"

Mach paused in his lazy saunter away from the chaotic yelling and banging in that riotous conference room which was quickly filling with guards, a half turn casting that lone cobalt gaze back to the larger woman in a striped sweater and white smock that chased after him. "It's alright Renee, really."

Equal parts fluster and guilt clung to the woman's features as they fumed at his blas" attitude, his dismissive waving gesture only seeming to aggravate them further. "It's not alright and I am so, so sorry for that! No one should have to hear that said about them or suffer that sort of verbal abuse!"

"Really' Well shit, must've missed that part in the handbook of life. Think some bullies growing up owe me some candy?" Glib tone accompanied his dirty chuckle as hands instinctively moved for the pack of cigarettes he didn't actually have" damn habits. "But come on Doc, that's about as to be expected, yeah' Though I will say there were some real classics thrown in....can't remember the last time I got called a '*** *** *** puppet of the *** *** regime'..."

He flinched back a little bit to avoid the whip of strawberry blond curls at the furious shake of the woman's head. "No! That was not what was expected to happen! This was supposed to be a learning and healing experience given how similar all of you are!"

This had his lone eye rolling at that bit of myopic optimism. "You gotta be kidding me. Look, I'm a hunter and they are my prey. Simple story that, not a lotta room for middle ground there."

"But there is because you all are people first and foremost!"

"Not minding the fact of course that they're a lot of two bit criminals and I'm essentially the definition of "The Man.'"

Mach was actually a little surprised by how rueful her expression got at those words or maybe it was the bunny ear quotes he made with his fingers. "Says "the man' in prison..."

"Ouch counselor, didn't think you had it in you but guess you can't psychoanalyze all of a person's claws away." He emphasized the glib nature of his words with a slow, mocking clap though the way they shrank from such made him feel a little bad for taunting the venom that had accompanied that sharp retort. "But seriously, me and them, we aren't alike."

"But you are!" Her fists balled as she set him with a stern brown eyed gaze. "You both can understand hardships and heartache; both may come from similar backgrounds or understand life through similar lenses; both have the same needs and many the same hopes and dreams all in the pursuit of happiness! That stuff goes beyond mere monikers and jobs."

"And yet we like them so much because "yay categorization.?" He made jazz hands with that comment while feeling properly asinine for doing so. "Helps us makes sense of the world. And yeah, maybe we do share some common ground here and there but there's a lot that we don't. Things I'll never understand because my powers are just unnatural mockeries of theirs and things they'll never get because they're a lot of whackjobs with a skewed world view and an understandable dislike for those who control them. It's a shit situation that you can't just wave away with talk and good intentions."

"But talking is the first step! That's why I thought this could be good, let you explore your similarities and differences, come to understand each other better."

Mach couldn't help but chuckle at this. "Nooo, experience tells me you put folks who don't like each other together and you just get a lot of anger and drinking and fist fights and such. Family gatherings sorta stuff, right?" He grinned at that little crack though it lost its luster at that lack of shared humor. "But yeah, can't fix hate."

"But people can' you did." He'd started to turn to continue off when those words fell, halting him. "I've read into your history Elitia, I know what happened when you were known as Blackjack and I have a good notion why you go by Mach now. And look at how far you've come, how accepting you are. I was hoping that that part of you would have come forward and helped to break down the barriers between you and those in the group. But they' they said such horrible things and you? you just instigated them and their prejudices. Goaded them. Why?"

His expression thinned pensively for a moment or two before finally he broke that somber silence with a little shrug. "I'm just not that good of a person Doc."

The counselor all but stomped in irritation. "But you are! You're better than this and I know it! With how purity has its hands in-"

"I'm not!" That snapped objection cut down the momentum of their words and the eye of a couple of the guards standing outside the door; a sharp glare from that lone cobalt depth pinning all in inaction. It was a response on his part that surprised even him though he shook such a notion away with a tired sigh. "Reread what I did in that warehouse, why I'm here. Then see if you can tell me how good I am, how much forgiveness I've found."

She shrank back a bit, shuffling. "But that's the point, it was supposed to be healing for them and you. They could see you as a person and you....you could finally let go of whatever hatred still sits in you. Because you're right' you can't understand them or they you unless you talk to each other, find common ground and-"

"Understanding's overrated." The words were blunt as he started off once more, hands tucking into the pockets of his orange overalls. "But you make sure I keep getting out of stupid one on one sessions with shrinks and I'll happily play punching bag for your patients. Hunters are hella good at that."

?Elitia that's not' Elitia wait' Elitia!

But Mach didn't continuing on in the commons area until finally that pair of guards approached him, restraints in hand so as to escort him back to his cell. And come the next morning he wasn't all too surprised to see his group sessions with Dr. Sterling had been canceled; though it was much to his chagrin to find that they'd all been replaced with singles sessions with the doctor now. Crap.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-04 12:51 EST
3 Vilnsreed

Days had started to blend one into the next for him, the monotony and anxiety of daily life draining in equal measures. Day in and day out, eight days a week he did the same thing with weekends only identifiable by a few extra planned activities though otherwise it was always business as usual. And that business, for his part, involved a lot of paranoia as he worked to avoid those elements who persistently sought harm to him. Stabbings, poisonings, mobs....he may have been a piece of work in the outside world but never before had this many people at once wished him so much ill will! It took all he had to make his own survival look so effortless; much as the elegant swan sailing majestically across the water while beneath it's legs were whipping about as though possessed. A smoke and mirrors show but then again if he showed any signs of weakness he knew for a fact that the extra effort spurred from such by his detractors would surely tip the balance and he would end up as another sad statistic in some report about prison violence.

Of course the one good thing about being so reviled was that he hadn't gotten close to anyone else either because they either hated him, feared him, or feared simply being associated with him. He really was like an albatross, but at least this made it so that he only had to worry about he, himself, and him. No pesky obligations or friends those who hounded him could go after in his steed which, while it left him isolated, meant he didn't have to divide attentions. That was at least the positive spin he told himself to weather through the loneliness. No one would be calling him a schmooze now!

Moving along through the cell-block commons at a lazy saunter he let his lone cobalt gaze wander aimlessly, a trail of glares and uncomfortable shuffling left in the wake of such. It was Sorndort movie night but all the good, isolated seating had been taken by pen-house couples; a problem of co-habitation that the guards were generally okay turning a blind eye to since it helped with tensions. Of course the compulsory birth control for both genders certainly helped in that regard but unfortunately it left him to entertain himself by keeping mobile and aware of his surroundings. Mach was fairly sure he'd walked more perimeter patrols during this stint of incarceration than he'd ever done in the name of actual military duty! But then again the best way to avoid trouble anywhere was to keep walking nonchalantly away from it so long as it wasn't getting ready to explode.

A random turn or another taken to avoid anybody trying to predict a pattern to his wanderings found him looking about the lonely hallway that lead along the laundry workshops. Kerns Mordarte was nearly a world upon itself with how self-sufficient it was. From machine shops specializing in the mundane to the advance, workshops for laundry and every other such imaginable service or sundry, advanced water production and management systems, and even a fungus farm and food vats: it had everything to exist off the grid which was a boon given it's natural isolation. Of course if anything happened to the outside world he was fairly certain there was probably several kilotons of some sort of explosive built into the walls themselves that could turn this place into a smoldering crater were it deemed necessary. Wouldn't want a bunch of independent, self sufficient mages and madsci running amok after all. Mach mused over many such thoughts as he strutted along in relative peace. This part of the prison's common areas were generally empty during free time save for the occasional couple or gang seeking to meet in relative privacy. Not exactly in his best interest to loiter in such a place so he picked up his pace, passing archway after archway while remaining readily visible to the security cameras that ran overhead along the spine of the ceiling cut into the natural rock. He was sure security wouldn't have minded terribly if he so happened to find himself ventilated in some manner or another given the trouble he caused just by being but he highly doubted they would just let such happen were they to witness such unfolding. Stern and grumpy at what a pest and omen of trouble he was but they weren't so cold and cruel as to just watch him get killed....or at very least they probably weren't keen on getting in trouble for dereliction of duty. Hey, he knew that the prejudices against mages and madsci's were very much held against him as well!

Nearly making it to the end of the walkway he was already deciding which forking path he would take when he caught a shuffle of movement out in the periphery of his vision. It wasn't exactly the 'you're about to get brained' sort of movement but it still had his heckles up as his pace slowed before the abandoned workshop littered with carts and racks of orange jumpers strewn amongst the driers and sewing workstations. Everything looked to be locked down and for all intents and purposes the place looked as it should be " abandoned and uninviting. It was almost enough to just write off as his paranoia jumping at shadows, and he was quite okay with this very notion until he caught another shuffle of orange, a soft thump to go with it.

"...N-No....I don't....stop...please...!"

"Come on....alright....come on....trust me..."

"Don't be like....gotta pay....just a little..."

There was a little tingle of relief at the muffled words spoken which so happened not to include things like 'here he comes' and 'stab him in the eye' so obviously this wasn't some sort of trap for the likes of him. However, the begging, almost frightened tone of the younger voice did leave him frowning, particularly inter-spaced with the multitude of deeper voices speaking in that persuasively calm manner that he knew all to well but far more aggressive than his brand of schmoozery.

"Please, no!" There was another thump, a shuffle of feet along the floor accompanied by the dance of dim shadows off in the far corner of the workshop before everything grew too muffled to clearly discern. That in particular threw up flags in his mind, the way those words rang haunting in their plead for help. It stirred his blood, fists flexing as he slowed reflexively to a stop.

This was stupid. The whole thought process of going to check things out was completely and utterly knacker on his part. Sure, he knew what this all sounded like but then he was just making assumptions and didn't actually know any of the details of the situation. Maybe he was just reading it all wrong as he had a penchant to do, or it wasn't nearly as dire and despicable a situation as he was imagining. And even if it was it wasn't as if this wasn't a part of life in prison. Folks got coerced into all sorts of things all the time on the inside, the eternal game of shuffling heirachy with all the give and especially take involved. And while it was a horrible notion to concieve this really did have nothing to do with him. He owed nothing to no one in this place and he had no duty to protect anyone anymore being stripped of rank and office as he was. No, the one, the only concern he had was to his own survival and interjecting in this did nothing to serve this end. If anything it could only cause trouble for him as such always did and no one would be thanking him once they figured who and what he was.

And so as much as he hated it he forced himself to take that step forward along with the next and the next after. He continued on turning a blind eye to the plight of another as was expected and sensible. It wasn't right but then there was nothing right about the whole situation - his part in it, likely their part, or even the whole system that created such. Reaching the end of the hallway he paused once more to decide which way he was going to go, the interplay of whether to stop off for an apple or not once more filling his thoughts as he started mindlessly off down the left.

Yes, he would get an apple....and he'd eat it guilt free too as he rounded back around that corner after only a few steps, moving swiftly to and through the archway and into that workshop. He couldn't do it, he just couldn't tune out that plight for help. Maybe it was just him being meddlesome, and it didn't involve him in the least, and it would likely only screw him as it usually did but it just wasn't who he was to let such pass when he could affect change. The world and everyone be damned he was just going to lie down and be an apathetic monster because that was what was expected of him.

Swerving around the racks and carts of clothing as silently as he could he made his way back to a metal fire door that was cracked open. "Great....a fucking maintenance hallway....jeez.? A displeased grumble as he peaked in. Shadows danced along the pipe laden hall that was obviously not meant for prisoners to be in, the sound of multiple voices ringing along down where the hallway turned a corner. Easing the door open he scanned about and instantly regretted his meddling nature as a bloom of pain accompanied the flash of stars across his vision as something hard cracked into the back of his head.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-05 11:22 EST
3 Vilnsreed (cont)

"Sonuva..." He growled angrily but resisted that urge to cradle his abused head less he find himself with broken fingers next. No, he'd already lost the initiative and so rather than continue to skulk about he shouldered through the door forcefully. There was a squishy thud and a surprised yelp as the door sprang back towards him prompting him to give it another go but with more gusto. This time the thud was much more solid sounding proceeded by the resound of metal clattering and a litany of curses as his attacker dropped their impromptu cudgel.

Without even having all the stars shaken out from his field of vision he snatched for the abused hand yanking back from door that had just cracked it; a wrist caught and used to wrench the unwilling combatant before him. He moved solely based off instinct ground into him by military training as he pushed, pulled, and finally flung the man before him right as he boot stomped them square in the core. This was the sort of kick that was used to get through wooden doors and thus proved rather effective the man who was sent flying back. They hit the ground with a hard, wet thud; tumbling uncontrollably until they slammed against the wall the far wall where the hallway bent..

Of course military edict didn't state that down was good enough and so he moved swiftly after, a knee already descending to pin the weakly struggling figure to the ground as he wound back. He couldn't exactly endorse the means which he'd acquired such but he certainly would attest to the satisfying feeling he got using his metallic prosthesis to pound the guys head into the ground. There was just something horrendously gratifying about it all as he heard their skull bounce with a sick crack against the pavement, their form slacking beneath his knee as consciousness was ripped unwillingly from their grasp.

All of this happened in a flash and before he knew it he was panting lightly in that fight or flight reflex, his fist flexing in consideration of punching the guy again though the many pairs of eyes that looked upon him in shocked awe helped to bring his mind back from that violent euphoria. Mach counted at least ten men and three women sprawled along that hallway set up with piles of towels and crates as some sort of makeshift gang club. One of the women, a young waif of a thing, was half stripped of her jumper and pinned against a far wall by a pair of men....his apparent maiden in distress though this was of little concern at the moment as those not preoccupied shuffled to arm themselves with a bevy of provisional weapons. Crapity crap.

"Hi ho fellas!" A cheery tone to go with his friendly grin as he slowly rose up off the slumped figure of their lookout in a 'don't mind this' sort of fashion. Brushing himself off nonchalantly he looked about with doe eyed interest. "Helluva setup you got here! Think you could probably charge a hefty barter for a place swank like this..."

"Who the *** are you!" This was growled by the big fella towards the end of the hall, their jumper worn half down likely as a result from the woman that had been grinding upon their lap till just a moment ago. Of course they could well have just worn their jumper like that on downtime regardless so as to show off their gorilla like physique covered by a bevy of prison tats that obviously indicated them as someone of importance to a gang that really liked skull and snake imagery. Lovely.

"Oh don't mind me, was just sort of poking about and found myself being greeted by the doorman. Guess the secret handshake didn't involve a fist bump..." He scratched mindlessly at the back of his head, playing up that goofy persona even though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone....not with his entrance anyway. But then again there was no way in hell he'd be able to intimidate a lot like this even if they knew who he was " superior numbers and weapons tended to make folks feel pretty brave after all. No, if they knew who he was it could only-

"Hey, isn't that the hunter Turner!?" He shot the helpful thug a a hate filled glare before that lone cobalt blue eye ticked about noting the subtle shift from indignation of some idiot trespassing on their turf to malevolent avarice. Oh that wasn't good. Now he was the outnumbered albatross that was caught in their homefield advantage and they knew it....and he couldn't even make a break for it until he got the girl out from here or all this stupidity would have been for naught. Damn it!

"Oh now, you're going to make me blush! Ain't nothing so fancy 'bout litte ol' me." He kicked bashfully at the ground even as he looked about for some sort of close at hand weapon which to defend himself. "Look, I apologize for busting on in on your pow wow but I heard some less than willing words from someone here and decided to look into it is all, yeah' Don't want no trouble or anything, just for everyone to play nice."

Eyes fell on the young woman who suddenly grew very self conscious as the stunned disgust washed from their features in a firey blush that matched their scowl. "I-I don't know 'im! I've nothing ta do with that piece of fucking government mongrel shit!" Ouch, and there's gratitude for him. But then he wasn't really expecting much to begin with as he forced himself to take another step into the lions den, the fellow closest to him boasting a broken iron moving to block his way while sizing him up.

"What!" No shit!?"

"Yeah, look, he's only got one eye..."

"....and one arm, the fuck he doing here!?"

"He's got a price on his head, top pay."

The murmurs grew as the mob worked themselves up, one of the two with the half-stripped young woman even abandoning them so as to arm up to get the grand prize. It wasn't exactly the sort of popularity contest he was looking to win but hey, it was serving his ends. "Look, I'm really not looking for trouble. Just....let the girl go and I'll get out of your hair, yeah' Easy as that, no one gets hurt..." There was a soft groan from behind that had him cringing a little inside. "....else. No one else gets hurt." Cheery little grin at that uncomfortable correction.

"Who the hell you think you're talking to boy-o!"

"Shit, you don't want trouble" Well you found trouble!"

"Asshole, I said I don't need your help! Are you fucking deaf!?"

"Well you might be of more use than just a push eh little bird..."

"Didn't he take down, like, twenty five guys during that mess hall riot...?"

"ENOUGH!"

The squabbling came to an abrupt halt as Mr. Big and Ink Friendly barked over the gaggle, a flinch of supplication washing out over the horde of cronies. They turned half an eye back to the fellow as they rose form their seat, the grinding woman moving to grab them a bat fashioned from a machined piece of thick iron pipe. "First one to floor this asshole gets top cut. Jess, get my knife....we're gonna carve our crest on this shithead's face."

A tired sigh escaped him. "And there goes easy..." Without pause he lunged at the guy before him, the iron they brandished up in defense caught by the butt and shoved back into their face with a bone breaking crunch.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-11 14:13 EST
3 Vilnsreed (cont)

Irons, when applied in the right (or very wrong) manner, worked just as well on flattening faces as they did on flattening clothing it seemed. The thug crumpled to the floor a wailing mess as they tried to staunch the immoderate stream of blood flowing from their ruined mug. A tactically poor move which Mach took full advantage of as he reflexively grabbed behind their head while thrusting his knee into their face not only once but twice. It was a brutal display which left the younger punk as a gurgling heap upon the floor with the rest of the cronies suddenly a little more leery of the hunter as he grinned easily at them. The situation was still crap even with that edge of fear on his side but the way he figured he had at least two advantages over these nyuk nyuks.

The next contender swung in broadly with a sharpened toothbrush shaft, the move amateurish as it was both easy to read and prohibitively wide in the confined space of the hallway. Now he was by and far not the most skilled hand to hand fighter out there but he still felt pretty capable and made for a decent brawler, especially so in comparison to what he figured were a lot of thugs educated only by the school of hard knocks. This apparent disparity in skill was only more pronounced as his adversaries fought without regard to their environment, funneling themselves one at a time at him which effectively neutered their numbers advantage. But then again all they had to do was win one fight against him while he had to go round for round with all of them so in terms of attrition he was pretty much boned if he couldn't work fast.

Side stepping the readily telegraphed stab he caught the man by the wrist and elbow, controlling them about his center of gravity before twisting viciously, checking them with his hip and snapping them to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The thug gasped sharply as they bounced upon the cool concrete, form curling up instinctively even as the hunter's foot loomed to stomp their head. Down for two but that finishing move was cut short by the sharp bite of pain lancing across his cheek which had him planting said foot on solid ground so as he could avoid that second whip of an electric plug. A warm trickle of blood was felt running from where that plug took a piece out of him but he didn't dare let such slow his momentum as he squared up his defenses quickly before stepping into the fray once more.

This guy seemed keen to use their head as they kept that plug circling about, conserving it's momentum and making it that much harder to track. Paired with the extra reach it gave them and the barbs of shaving razors studded along it's length and they were quite the formidable obstacle though he had at least one trick up his sleeve to deal with such. Watching the serpentine rhythm it almost seemed at random when he chose to push his distance, that studded cord ripping mercilessly into his right forearm which was held up as sacrifice to shield himself from the onslaught.

"Feel good b-RGF!" The surprised outcry of having that makeshift razor wire wound about his arm shoved into their chest was cut short by his free fist contorting the plane of their jaw in comparison to the rest of their head, whipping it about unpleasantly. Flexing his right hand the sagging tatters of the orange jumpsuit and faux flesh glove loosened the grip of that binding which clung ineffectually to the ebony prosthesis beneath, the whole scene having a disjointedly grotesque quality.

But there was no time for gawking as the schmooze followed up that hook with an uppercut that sent the fellow back in a spray of violent crimson. Turning now to greet the next combatant brandishing part of a wooden leg from some chair or another he squared up once more only to feel his defense unravel at the worst possible moment as his right arm was wrenched open. Cobalt gaze was wild as he looked over, a curse held back noting the cord that still connected him and the unconscious fellow collapsing to the ground. Damn it, he was getting ahead of himself! The opening made was fully taken advantage of as he felt that wooden limb bite into his shoulder, a cry of pain grunted as he forced himself to keep focused.

Shifting as best he could to avoid a broken clavicle he flexed and twisted that prosthesis, working to dislodge it from the makeshift whip as the thug drew back on the wooden leg readying it for another go. Options screamed at him from all angles of his mind, strategies and tactics coming and going as he worked to free himself before that next attack came. The whip was coming but not nearly fast enough and so, in classic Mach style, he quickly lifted his left arm up to protect his head and face as he stepped into that engagement nigh reckless abandon.

Watching the movement of that lump of wood he threw a half-hearted jab as they closed range, the other guy replying in kind with their cudgel angling to stab at his gut. Mach felt the piercing bite just a little as he rolled with it, his punch pulling back and down to catch their wrist, jerking them ever towards him as he drove forward past the weapon. Surprise flashed across their visage momentarily, the fear driven by the bestial growl that escaped him just before the apex of his forehead and scalp met with the their face. Mach could hear the sickening cracks and pops of failing cartilage, felt the warmth of blood not his own splatter across his brow. There was nothing fancy or beautiful in any of this, no elegance as he'd seen play out in the arenas back in Rhy'Din. No....this was brutal and vicious, the life he was accustomed to: grew in, lived in, breathed in. He felt his smile grow a little, the genuineness more than a touch disconcerting as time began to slow for him, the euphoria of that life and death situation taking hold.

Blue eye blue watched as the man stumbled back, wailing in pain as they clutched at their face with their free hand while waving that stick around trying to keep the hunter at bay. It was almost comical to watch the fellows terror, the momentary reprieve this afforded him used to finally free himself of that dead weight which held back his right arm. Offering a dirty snarl to everyone else to help lengthen that breather he looked over the remainder of the gathered adversaries. The egotistical bravado which had been so prevalent before had drained from those present, the somber truth of the situation finally sinking in: Mach may have only been one but he was most certainly a dangerous one that would fight savagely with fang and claw until he was either put down or had done so to everyone else. It was a sobering thought that a few of those gathered saw for the terrifying possibility of what it was, unsteady steps backing them away though there were still a number of those with mounting indignation and fury who saw no point in such reasoning....only the burning howl in their veins.

A part of him wanted to push the odds, to try and completely tear these goons apart; breaking them so badly that he earns himself quite the deposit in the reputation bank. Yet in the back of his mind something scratched, his sensible side demanding his attention. It was a niggling feeling that he was forgetting something yet the coast of his gaze quickly reminded him of such as he saw the waif of a woman still half stripped and staring in mortified awe at him. Shit....Shit that's what he was doing! Sucking in a deep breath which caused his shoulder to throb he quickly dashed the flames of rage that grew within, forced his attention to the task at hand as he weaved forward, dodging the frantic swipe of that wood limb giving him an open line to plant his fist square in their bread basket. The thug doubled over, their club clattering upon the ground shortly before they joined it as he followed with an elbow strike to the back of their bowed head.

Turning back from the crumpling figure he barely caught the arm with the makeshift shiv diving for his side, torque applied to the fellows wrist opening them up as he grabbed behind their head to trap them while he delivered a couple knees to their gut before sending them flying back into his fellows with a door kick. He moved with the fury of a man possessed, the wild fury in his expression helping to freeze those before him in place as he marched forward to grab the woman's wrist. That contact seemed to jar them from the mesmerizing violence unfolding before her, a shocked blink crossing them before they began to struggle against his hold. "N-No! Let me go you asshAAAAH!"

Mach had given up on politeness at this point as he unceremoniously yanked her like a rag doll, ripping them away from the wall and flinging them off behind him without care. She was able to land a blow upon his jaw in passing with a flailing fist, an annoyed grumble escaping him though he could have sworn he saw perhaps just a glimmer of appreciation in a brief moment of eye contact between them. This could totally have just been him reading things wrong but right now that didn't matter as he continued forward, his march turning into a full on charge as a growling yell rose up from his very depths. Bum rushing the remaining combatants he let his fury rise up to help drive them back, a diversion to hopefully give the woman enough time to escape. It wasn't terribly heroic or smart he had to admit given that it was piss and vinegar driving him. But then again it never really had to be as all he cared about was the results.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-15 19:24 EST
3 Vilnsreed (cont)

Mach was seriously questioning the wisdom of this diversionary tactic. It was a stupid move and he knew it....felt it as more than a couple of blows thumped against his back, tapped his shoulders and rang his head. Of course as a hunter he was never very fond of the charge; figured any 'tactic' that involved yelling and running headlong at the enemy was pretty much a move of poorly planned desperation or a great desire to see how fried chicken felt. Regardless he pushed just a little more before finally grabbing the schmuck in front by the cuffs of their jumper, twisting them about his center of gravity to fling them to the floor in a chopping manner which left him low as he snapped back, the next guy grabbed by the waist and lifted up and over to be dumped behind and hopefully onto their head. More of those bodies before him shifted, working to try and distance themselves from his mad dash which would have continued forward had he not caught a glimpse of that swift movement overhead.

He barely got that right arm up in defense before that bat fashioned of pipe came crushing down upon him, a thunderous clang of metal on....whatever the hell his Lupinoss prosthetic was made from ringing out. He grit his teeth at the phantasmal pain the limb squawked in his mind as a clarion of danger as well as the very real pain that welled at the junction of flesh and ceramic, the fake limb shifting and pulling uncomfortably from how it seated on his stump. Were that his real arm he was sure it would have been broken by now much less if he hadn't blocked that blow aimed squarely at turning his brain to pudding. As for prosthesis it was surprisingly intact though the response to his commands of twisting to grab that bat were abysmal, fingers and wrist barely curling as the connection between it and his body were pretty much severed.

Part of him cursed bitterly at this turn of events, doubly so as he glanced behind to see a few of those folks he'd downed but not curb stomped starting to try and drag themselves back to their feet, the obvious look of 'round two' held upon angry faces. Looking past those figure though the schmooze couldn't help but smile slightly as he noted the girl, chucked as she had been, was not there. Good....nothing was worse than the bystander or saved idiot that just stuck around out of some strange sense of obligation or vengeance rather than doing the sensible thing and running the hell away when they had the chance.

Of course that didn't help his situation one lick as he was now alone and about to find himself boxed in by a bunch of folks that really didn't like him and he with one arm he may as well just pull off and use to beat them with like a club. A terrible thought but it at least had him smirking rather than cursing his rather dire situation and how he found himself in such. But then again being in front of the apparent boss man was likely the one glimmer of hope he had for making it out of this alive. He just had to beat the head goon and the rest of the cronies should scatter....theoretically at least. It wasn't much of a plan but then he had already done a charge so it was obvious he was scrapping the bottom of the barrel.

Pushing back against his frozen prosthesis he angled the bat off to the side, an opening made to drive his elbow into Mr. Big and Ink Friendlies face. The man grunted, an angry growl escaping at the spill of blood from their nose but unlike the thugs before they held their composure, the thick of their bat snapping back from the push of his arm as they thrust the pommel forward at his throat. That lone blue eye widened as he snapped his chin down just in nick of time to take that telling blow, his jaw creaking beneath the strike meant to crush his windpipe that had his mind reeling for multiple reasons. That wasn't the sort of move one learned on the streets....that was a half-swording technique....and the only folks he knew that practiced those were battlemages!

Mach quickly began revising his fighting strategy as he sidestepped another cutting sweep of that bat. He was not equipped with the means for going toe to toe with a battlemage....hell, he couldn't even figure why a battlemage was in this prison to begin with saying as they usually didn't get a choice about 'becalming' if they were released from the corp for any reason! Of course whoever heard of a hunter in a mage prison either so it wasn't like he had much of a leg to stand on in that department even if it would have done anything to help the problem, which it did not. No, per hunter doctrine the best solution to going hand to hand with a battlemage was, rather simply, not to do it and instead to just put a few bullets in them at range since there was no way a hunters military hand to hand training would ever hold a flame to decades of swordsmanship and martial etiquette they had to master.

Backing off now he searched desperately for an opening in the man's guard that he knew wouldn't be there, his jaw throbbing as his teeth ground in frustration. Damn it things were going....well" Okay, not well per say but better than he'd been hoping for! And he'd even gone and did a good deed though as seemed typical he was paying the price for such. Another step in retreat was taken, his mind reeling to the possibility of trying to run when it was so rudely interrupted by a bloom of sharp pain biting into his back. Reflex pounded into muscle memory activated as he twisted about, the hand wielding that forgotten about wooden cudgel caught as he pivoted to throw the attacker down before him while locking their arm.

He tried to gulp down a deep breath, to push back the tunnel vision that his rising panic was creating. Fear really was the mind killer or at very least what set up a mind to get turned to cream. Wrenching the wooden chair leg free from the man that brandished it (with a little aid of a knee to said brandishers head) he got it up just in time to blunt the impact of that bat which swung in an attempt take his head off. Vision blurred as he rolled with that blow to try and mitigate it's damage, the deafening ring in his ears causing him to stumble as he scrambled to try and find footing.

The boss was most certainly trained in martial edict as they didn't relent on their offense coming at him again though something seemed just a little off. Sweeping the makeshift club in hand he caught the next incoming arc of bat, turning it aside which had them trying for another pommel thrust. This one was dodged even with the annoying ringing in his ears which in turn had the man....retreating" Another swing, another parry which for all intents and purpose he knew he shouldn't have been able to pull off against a trained swordsman, the weapon swept in across the line of their body blocking the pommel strike. Rather than forcing a line though or coming about the gang leader slid the bat down his club and into his side where they drew it rather ineffectually in an attempt to disembowel him with a very blunt object...

And then it all made sense.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-16 13:54 EST
3 Vilnsreed (cont)

These were not the honed moves of a proper battlemage using their years of mastery in sword play and martial discipline to completely own their opponent's ass. No, these were the clumsy movements of a man trying to use a baseball bat like a sword, rife with hesitation and uncertainty. They surely knew their moves with a prowess born of didactic instruction, structured practice, and lots of repetition; but it was stiff and unyielding obviously having never been tempered in the crucible of proper conflict. The moves of a fledgling swordspell rather than a proper mage knight though this didn't mean that they were a slouch or an easy target by any means" the buzz in his ears and crooked hang of his prosthesis was evidence enough of that! But it did mean that he wasn't totally boned for where there was rigidity there were behaviors he could exploit and maybe turn this crap hand golden.

Wasting no time in scrambling back from that 'cut' he adjusted his false hand as best he could upon it's stump though it still didn't feel of much use. At very least he was able to coax it into a grabbing pose to go with his latest posture, feet spreading with that makeshift club held forward in what was probably a laughable caricature of "forward upper guard" stance that a battlemage buddy of his showed him once years ago over more than a few drinks. While he highly doubted his poor impression of drunken swordsmanship did much to daunt the academy flunky turned prison kingpin it certainly was enough to make them pause their assault, a brow quirked at the odd display.

For his part he tried to look as threatening and competent as possible, at least seem like he might know a thing or two to be a challenge in sword fighting if only with how confident he could BS looking. It was a long shot for sure hoping they'd engage him as a swordsman and not a stick fighter but when your other options involved being taken apart one bludgeoning blow at a time even the long odds started looking pretty good. But then again he ventured it couldn't have been that bad of odds since the man was maybe a few years younger than he at most; their prowess at such an age belaying how much stock they put into the training they would have received as a doe eyed teenager. Sure it probably proved invaluable in climbing the hoodlum ranks, but one who practiced enough to still have this good of form had to yearn at least a little to truly test their mettle in the manner they trained for " or that was the hope at least.

Preening for all his worth he nearly missed the ruffian sneaking up behind with obvious intent to grab him, the makeshift club in hand swung back in an arc that made even him cringe sympathetically as he felt it crush into something rather pliable eliciting a soprano squawk from the poor bastard. It was the move that broke that moment of tension, the boss sliding in with an upper cut of that bat. He resisted his trained inclination to circle about that blow, that stick brought forward instead from the crumpling figure to parry. The sound of metal cracking against wood echoed about the maintenance hallway halting the slow edging in of those others less they get caught up in such a violent display.

Forcing his club down and under he pushed up on the bat, opening the thugs arm for a grab. It was a stupid move on his part, a gamble on the thugs instinct to treat that clash like the crossing of swords rather than of clubs. If they treated it like clubs then all they had to do was disengage and batter him down with their superior cudgel. But if he opened himself up just so via that grappling move, showed a nice clean cutting line that was just the golden opportunity for a swordsman then...

The move was swift, almost imperceptible as the pipe was angled off and about. He barely heard the wind whiffling before a bloom of pain exploded in his side, the iron biting in painfully. It was clean and efficient, an execution to be proud of and that would have left him nearly half the man he used to be....had their weapon teeth to cut with. As was the impact felt stunted from the efficiency of that move, not nearly enough momentum built up. The heavily inked thug hesitated again at that mistake but Mach didn't as stepped in, the weapon sliding harmlessly along his side as he caught the man's with his. It felt wrong, as though his prosthesis would pop off at any moment but this didn't stop him from leveraging with it, catching the fellows arm in an arm bar while the wooden stick he held was wound back before being sprung upon their face with a face that fully utilized it's heft.

The thug growled in pain as they tried to pull free from his hold but it was too late. Rolling with the attempt to wrench free he wound back and gave the man another crack, this one drawing a gasping curse from the other. A pained yelp and spray of blood accompanied the next blow, the attempts to break that weapon free from his hold finally shifting in tone to panicked pushes and flails to protect their face and head from further assaults but Mach was beyond relenting. Again and again he hit the man with that club, the wood cracking and splintering as he wailed on the bastard. At some point the man pulled from his arm bar, that prosthesis hanging on precariously at best though he paid it little mind as he just focused on beating the guy. Distantly he felt a few more blooms of pain as they tried to beat him back but Mach just focused on the red, on the scream in his ears as something within him just snapped.

Over and over he swung that club until his hand was numb, barely able to hold onto the gore laden chair leg. The screaming he'd heard died down in a fit of coughing, his throat wrecked from the rage fueled howl that had apparently risen out of him, kept the kingpins goons at bay while he....he....Mach felt a wash of illness tug at his stomach as the red faded from his sight leaving him to behold the product of his savagery; the thug battered and quaking in a pool of their own blood. They barely gurgled a whimpering response as the hunter threw the remnants of that destroyed chair leg against their broken hands still trying to protect the grotesque caricature of a face.

It was hardly imaginable to him that he could be capable of such savagery and yet again he found himself staring at his own blood covered hand with just the hint of a smirk tugging upon rugged features. He should have been mortified by it all but there wasn't time for such sentimentality as he swooped to catch the bat from off the ground. The group of stunned men before him jerked in revulsion as he began for them, stepping over the broken body of their leader. No, now wasn't the time to think of such, he had to break all these bastards so none of this came back to bite him in the ass.

The first one up was purely disappointing as they turned to try and tear their way down the hall, to escape the justice of that swing which caught them square in the back. The young man faltered, falling to a knee which put their head in line for that followup side swipe which twisted them about as some grotesque marionette. Their body barely hit the floor with a sickening thud before he was onto the next man, a cry of pain rising as the arm they rose in defense bent and buckled beneath that crushing blow. He lifted that weapon up to bring it down upon their head as they wept, cradling their ruined arm when the shift of movement drew his attention away from that murderous intent. Everything felt so slow as he rolled from that surprise jab, the followup hook barely grazing him as he stepped back.

Unlike the boss man he wasn't one to let himself get pulled into his avarice for a fight, not when he only had one good hand. Dodging another punch and another he finally opened up enough space to snap that bat up to stab it into their core, those features mired in panicked fury twisting in noxious pain as they barely held down the bile of their last meal. It was enough to make the hunter grin though the dark humor was short lived as something about that just felt off....distant. Reaffirming his grip on the shallow of that cobbled together bat a sinking feeling of his own took hold as he couldn't feel the pressure or weight of the weapon in hand, feel the texture of the linen wrapped about it's hilt.

No....no no no no no! Panic welled up as the euphoria of the fight was torn away brisk as a bucket of ice to the face. But even as that tunnel vision, that hyper focus on things only affiliated with the fight, faded he found his hold of his senses fading as well rather than sharpening. The pains from his injuries, the fatigue of his muscles, the sights and sounds around him....all of it took on a distant feel as though not really his....as though he were becoming unglued from reality. It was a sickeningly alien feeling yet so very familiar; one which sat at the core of his fears. A disassociative fugue....the tell tale symptom and harbinger which marked the demise that was coming for him, for all hunters, that suffered from Spirita-Anima Disassociative Disorder.

It was something which he fought hard against out in the world; which loomed as a shadow forever over his shoulder just out of the corner of his vision wherever he went. Few had seen the effect first hand, the vacancy of his gaze as the complex spell that was his soul lost focus, unraveled from his body threatening to shatter in the ether, the sign of the price he paid from the abuses of magic he'd suffered. But then such was the reason why he'd not focused so much upon listening for it's distant calls in here, in this place so devoid of magic it felt wrong in it's very existence. And why now of all times!" Why after he'd just ripped victory from the bloody jaws of failure did his personal expiration clock choose to strike it's toll?

He cursed and cried in silence as he controlled his form to crank that bat back for one last snap at the man, scared just as he, who lashed out in turn. He saw the fist coming but could no longer feel the his hand, his arm as he tried to move that weapon. It wasn't long before his vision failed as well followed quickly by the rest of his senses. All that was Mach fell apart, vacated the vessel of his body.

And then he ceased to be.

Mach

Date: 2016-08-23 07:55 EST
3 Vilnsreed (cont)

What made Mach' It was a question posed to him by some scholarly type or another once when they were discussing the finer points of spirita dissociative fugues - the 'death without death? as some called it. A syndrome where the soul randomly slipped from it's mortal coil and flapped precariously in the winds of the ether like laundry left out haphazardly in a gale. No one quite knew for sure why it occurred or what triggered them, only that it happened to arcane insensitives when their magic saturation and tolerance were pushed to their very limits by years of magical abuse which shredded the connection of their soul to their bodies. A none concern for the general populace given moderation of exposure was enough to avoid the most serious, deletrious, and/or permanent effects but then hunters were far from normal folks in normal situations.

No, he'd sucked down more magic than even some mages in his limited lifetime and the damage such wreaked upon him was obvious: hypoesthesia, sporadic bouts of partial amnesia, spirta dissociative fugues....all occurring with growing breadth and frequency. Atop of this there was no cure for those as far gone as he, no way to reverse the hands of time, to stop the ever increasing creep of symptoms as this situation so aptly showed. If all that was he, all that was Mach could just slip out in the most magically sterile place imaginable then it was obvious just how far degraded his soul had become. One of the reasons he'd stuck with hunting as he did since he was dead one way or another long before that big four-o. Pretty much set that he'd either succumb to a terminal spirita dissociation where his soul fully separated from his body and the spell that was he collapsed, returning to the ether whence it rose and leaving his empty husk of a body to die; or else he'd succumb to a complication of his disorder though he'd never figured that 'complication' would be getting ripped apart with sharpened toothbrushes but then life always was full of surprises.

Yet something seemed odd as he felt himself start to coalesce once more like some form of bad stuffing being readied to cram into a turkey. He could ponder such philosophical quandaries as what made him, wonder if and or what he lost each time he suffered a dissociation, and even mentally cringe over remembrances of experiments proposed by said madsci buddy years prior to answer such philosophical notions....all of which he wouldn't have been able to do dead. Maybe he'd gotten lucky and this was one of those short in and out bouts....or maybe he was about to awaken in the middle of being drawn, quartered, and skinned alive. Whatever the case may be he approached it just as quickly as he'd been ripped away from life, his existence coming together abruptly.

Unfortunately the problem with coming back from a down and out fugue like this was always the figuring out where in the course of things you currently were and responding accordingly. He could have been out of things for mere seconds up to nearly double digits of minutes which was an uncomfortably large margin of variability. For those times he was just casually talking or hanging around with folks it was easy enough to play the 'spacing out' card if he was caught vacant, usually add some tawdry jab to help smooth over any lingering questions. In the middle of an armed brawl on the other hand made things a fair bit more complicated requiring some pretty quick situational assessment, adaption, and massive mounds of BS and lying.

Feeling all his senses suddenly return as though through the flip of switch was a disorienting experience no matter the situation though it was much more jarring when ones frame of reference had drastically changed. This was the case now as the snap shot of existence his mind last registered was wholly different from what he was experiencing now. For one there were a lot more aches and screaming pains then he remembered, manifest in the fascinating gargling crackle sound that proceeded each labored breath - the hallmark of fluid in one of his lungs (he'd guess his left since it burned like hell.) As well he could now hear the irritable shuffling of feet, of murmured threats and dark banter playing about in that hallway versus the dubstep-esque rhythm of his blood fueled by angry adrenaline laying deafening beats in his ear. Just because his mind had stepped out for an existential smoke break didn't mean his body just stopped and waited for it to return as that adrenaline rush came and went leaving him ragged with fatigue, all the lactic acid left to gnaw in his muscles as they relaxed without a commander at the helm screaming to maim any and all challengers.

All of this was noted in the blink of an eye which added to the acute feeling of discombobulation and vertigo which felt like one hell of a hangover. It was probably a small miracle that he was lying down gathered by the shift in how his weight sat on his frame; at the view of the ceiling that now filled his vision whereas before it was the angry visage of some punk sending a fist to prettify his handsome mug. Of course the fact that he was on the ground was of no small concern, the time he'd been out of it obviously longer than just a few seconds.

His gaze bounced about quickly to try and take bearing of things though what he found left him a bit stupefied as it seemed life and his situation in general decided to undergo a paradigm shift without the aid of a clutch. The gang of tough wannabes he'd been wailing on prior were still there and sour looking as he remembered though recovered some in number from the looks of things but now they milled about angrily behind a row of new folks to the party all dressed in orange and looking decidedly bored. It was likely no mean feat to stand so undaunted between those violence hungry jackals and himself given they were outnumbered two to one but there was a distinct difference in the air about them; a competence and edge of true danger that was woefully lacking from the goons. Off to his side he noted another fellow tending to the bloody mess of Mr. Big and Ink Friendly while to his other a bruiser of a woman (though honestly he didn't think he ever met a dwarf who didn't look like they could crush a man in their massive hands) speaking quietly to who Mach could only class as a gentleman among all this machismo. Yeah' life was really ramping up the screw factor with him.

The odd man out was dressed in the same distinct orange jumper of any other inmate though they wore it as though a fine suit, the garment pressed neatly with a crisp collar and clean cuffs. Clean shaven and with a head of dapper styled salt and pepper, the man had a lawyer's air to them only exemplified by the simple black round rimmed glasses they wore which seemed more as to give them a note of class that was missing from the typical prison rabble than any need for vision correction. This, of course, probably meant they were more dangerous than said rabble given how they thrived so effortlessly when by all appearances they should have been eaten alive.

Amidst they're candid conversation the gentleman apparently noted the "IN" sign look in his lone eye as they stopped to turn an eerily cheerful smile towards him. There was an understandable slog in his uptake department given all this strange he was trying to swallow and so he let his instinct field this greeting" unfortunately it chose to take a swing at the guy.

Not only was the dwarven woman particularly sturdy looking but they were swift too as they quickly made him regret giving his crap instinct the helm, his fist nearly being bent back on his arm. Mach couldn't help the sharp gasping yelp that escaped him nor the growled curse as the woman twisted his arm, locking the elbow and using it as a leverage to force him over onto his other preventing a second attempt. Yeah, that was a brilliant move" though it did serve to confirm a few sinking suspicions he had that his situation may not exactly have become much better than it was before despite the lack of active violence against him.

Tapping out uncle with that black prosthesis seemed fruitless at best as the hulk dwarf didn't let off until he was sure the prison lawyer motioned for them to do so. With a sharp jerk the woman threw him onto his back, a painful cough racking him as he felt the pressure constricting in his chest along with the sound of queasy burbling coming from what looked to be a pen shaft sticking out of the hole in his chest as a sort of makeshift stent to stop him from drowning in his own juices. Resisting both the urge to curl up or to stupidly try again for the man hissing in mock sympathy he instead centered his focus as he lay there upon a pile of linens sticky with his blood, trying to calm the clamor of thoughts in his mind. Panicking never did much good to begin with and he was fairly sure it would only serve him so much worse in this situation. Reigning in control of his breathing as best was possible he finally leveled a dim gaze upon the man who folded his hands like some creepy butler. "Oh my, you are certainly spirited! I do hope my associate didn't hurt you? more than you've seemed to already found yourself as."

A withered smirk escaped him as lips twisted crookedly, forcing through the complaints of his tender jaw (the fellow swinging when he blanked out apparently scored a pretty good hit from the feel of things.) "Everyone's gotta" have a hobby. Your's cr" creeping?" He didn't particularly feel good or healthy enough to be this asinine given his maintenance dose of regeneration potion hardly covered this level of hurt and had all but said 'nope' to the condition he was in now but then being meek and supplicant never did suit him even if he was feeling terribly fragile and mortal at the moment.

For their part the man just chuckled along with his glib humor though the woman continued to scowl hard enough for the both of them. "Yes, in a way. Though I like to think of it more as keeping tabs on things that go on in my little slice of the multiverse."

"P-Potato' patatoe?" Pride demanded he prop himself up a little more on that pile of linens despite his gurgling wheeze so he at least wasn't quite so low compared to a dwarf, a wary gaze holding to the woman to see if such would warrant him another jaunt to pain land. When it pleasantly didn't he hazarded letting his attention turn back to the gentleman who just kept on smiling in that uncomfortably friendly manner. "So' I'm something t-" to keep tabs on?" Mach hated the fact he sounded like a nervous asthmatic dweeb trying to ask the prettiest girl to the fancy ball but then the fact he was talking at all had to be a testament to his ability to chug through punishment that would ground any sane person. Or maybe it was just a testament to how far from sanity he had plunged" Potato patato indeed.

The aged man offered a mild shrug with their words. "Why of course. You are a hunter in a mage prison after all, and quite the colorful one at that..." They canted their head ever so slightly to the kingpin he'd left soaking in a puddle of their own blood.

"Not my....choice of va-vacation locals." He tried to shrug nonchalantly himself though given his odd positioning he just sort of looked like he was slouching sullenly. Not exactly making a stellar impression but he was sure this situation was chosen to come forward particularly for that reason. "But didn't.....need to in-convenience yourself with....coming forward just for peep'n....and creep'n on interesting....like me, so why....are you here?"

"To render assistance of course which it looked as though you readily needed given that fugue state you were in when we found you." The man spoke frankly enough though that smile gave their words a subtle lilt. It was enough to just raise Mach's heckles though the words that were spoken saw the wind being kicked straight out of his sails. He eyed the man who only smiled at him though he was sure he saw their lips tick slightly upwards. It wasn't like S.A.D.D. was some great government secret or dissociative fugue states were unheard of outside of hunter circles but then it was still a pretty vaguely understood or discussed concept out in the public forum. Something that could be chalked up to most hunters punching out before the disorder could take them and how rare it was for your average Joe Schmo to get to the dismal prognosis stage of the disorder.

Part of him wanted to deny the coolly played claim, to refute that indelible weakness though somehow he felt such would have been a waste of everybody's time, not with how things had played out. This rescue was far too convenient to be coincidental and the man made no attempts to hide that fact. Hell, they even had their own prison doc on hand figuring whatever opportunity presented itself for this meeting would likely involve violence and injury! "Who....are you...?"

The man seemed to consider this a moment before finally crouching down, his smile taking on an almost conspiratorial character. "I am a friend of a....shared acquaintance. I believe you know them as....hmm....ah, yes, Danton Delorno...?

Mach

Date: 2016-09-29 02:13 EST
3 Vilnsreed (cont)

Mach couldn't quite hide the surprise that washed over him at the drop of that name which, frankly, ranked pretty high on his list of 'out of sight out of mind'. This was particularly so given his current situation and their, albeit indirect and totally by his own asking, ties to him being in such a predicament yet here they were in essence making his life complicated. Of course he couldn't really say something like this was completely out of left field as there was nothing ever really simple when dealing with a member of a criminal syndicate. It was a desperate gambit done as a drastic measure so as to return and preserve the peace for those he cared about, one he always knew had a price he'd have to pay though that didn't explain in the least why the price tag was showing up here of all places.

Feeling the awkwardness of that growing pause he worked to put a lid on all his errant thoughts, decorating the unease with a lazy grin. "Oh....you mean D....Danman. How's he doing....how's the goons?"

The gentleman smirked mildly at his attempt at gaiety while shaking their head pityingly. "I hope you don't call him that to his face, he rather detests such as I'm lead to believe." That touch of humor only grew as they picked up on the slight thinning of his expression affirming such to be the case.

"Oh, but we're....bestest frienemies....yeah?" Playing it off with cavalier bluster he set about adjusting once more, turning onto his side so that makeshift stent could drain easier relieving the feeling of an elephant sitting on his chest. This seemed to make the bodyguard shuffle a little, their gaze averting from the queasy bubbling sight. Well, good to see as comfortable with violence as they may have been they weren't so hardened against the products of said violence like he though how such exactly helped him in this case was still up for debate. "So what, you all trading gossip about little ol' me?"

For their part the gentleman, or T. Polzin 186445 for as little as that meant to him given it rang no bells of familiarity, simply settled back to their friendly smile, completely unfazed by the gory sight before them. "In a sense you could say that."

"Ah....so what, Danny put in the good word for me" Said I've" earned the 'shank protection' policy from the strong arm here?" His tone was flippant and breezy, edging on disrespectful even, as he reclined. It was a show of airs that just felt necessary given the vastly different sides of the law the two of them stood though in honesty he'd have felt more comfortable if his footing was at least a smidgen more even. As was he just sort of felt like he was pissing into a strong headwind.

But then at least Polzin seemed to find his particular brand of terrible entertaining, or perhaps that was just airs of their own as they chuckled softly. "No, no, not so much as that. I actually reached out to him so as to inquire about you when it became known a hunter from his jurisdiction would be spending time in this fine establishment." They gestured about to their surroundings with an easy smile as though trying to sell him real estate. "He said you were an' interesting individual" who was not so hung up on antiquated views."

"You know some folks use "interesting" to describe things which are bad."

"Indeed."

There was something about the blunt snap of that response which made him wilt a little and doubt just how entertaining this one really found him. "Right'so you exchanged the bull, heard that I play ball and that somehow gets me my own professional guardian angels?"

Clapping their hands together they leaned forward, that smile growing in something akin to enthusiasm though somewhat off key as they chortled. "Oh certainly not, I had every intention of enjoying the show of you being taken apart! Please, do not think I am so gentile a spirit simply because I wear the cloak of professionalism."

"Perish the thought..." Mach felt his stomach sinking once more as he was reminded that there was something disconcerting about this ones character. You didn't end up as a ranking member of a crime syndicate headed by madsci's who had a pathological lack of interest in such fluffy notions as 'family' or 'loyalty' or 'morals' if you weren't able to produce respectable results in a business that worked primarily off of violence and evil actions.

"Good! You do catch on rather quickly." A friendly nod was added to that bright chirp as though to encourage him to remember exactly how the two of them stood: this wasn't a social visit, this was business.

As such he let the strained pretense of foolishness drain from his expression as he leveled that cobalt gaze of his upon the man. "So what?s the deal then, why the support?"

"Because you have proven beyond doubt to be just the interesting person that Mr. Delorno painted you as." That smile didn't dim any even though their tone shifted some taking on a more strict yet congenial note. This was likely the sort of madsci that laughed as they cut someone up. "Called you 'pragmatic' and 'refreshingly lacking in the typical hunter sanctimony' as well as 'grounded in the way the world works'....high praise to be sure."

"Is that so." His tone was bland as he really wasn't sure how good he felt about being 'highly praised' by a black market organ harvester. "Not exactly sure how you venture this given we've never talked face to face or by proxy."

Polzin just chuckled at that statement as they adjusted back upon their haunches seemingly unwilling to join him fully upon the floor. "One can learn more from a man's actions than their words Mr. Turner, and your actions are very vocal. You understand the situation you are in yet where those of lesser stock would have wallowed in misery or tried to work 'the system' to their advantage you instead figured out how to survive the situation in spite of it by virtue of your own strength. Even been able to hold on to some of your 'ideals' despite how worthless such notions are in a place as this." Another grand sweep of hand motioned to the scene around them though Mach was reticent regarding how much this really was the work of his 'idealism'.

"So what, think I'll make a good addition to your little crew because I'm a volatile and brutish sort' I feel you got a fair bit of that already in Mighty Mouse here..." He offered a mirthless grin to the dwarven woman who simply snorted at his jab.

"Anyone can be pushed to violence Mr. Turner, you should know better than most of that fact from what I understand of the situation used to justify your incarceration."

Their was hardly a pause between the registering of those 'friendly' words and the taut twist of his features as they hardened. "Fuck you."

Short and feisty wound back in the corner of his attention with obvious intent to introduce her ham fist to his mug though the gentleman held them at bay with but a lift of their hand. "Apologies, I suppose that could be a touchy subject. But the point is that violence in itself isn't anything unique or worthy of interest. The ability to apply such strategically, to build a reputation with it and use that to cloak oneself....well, that is a skill that interests me."

"Big whoop." He couldn't help the sullen dissidence in his tone but then there was a lot to be sore about. Just because they knew what kind of monster he was didn't mean he enjoyed having others call him out on such....or particularly saying it was somehow a good thing to boot. And any cues back to the cult and all that happened were unappreciated in general as he worked to do the only sensible thing he could with such an experience - repress the hell out of it and push it as far out of mind as folks would let him. "So you really are here to make some sort of deal with the most hated guy in this place?"

"A proposition." The correction came frank as they leaned forward. "Where you lend us your reputation and we give you something you've been sorely lacking up until now."

He couldn't help but snort at this, his entertainment just shy of rude laughter though he dared not go that far with short and feisty glaring at him from the sidelines. "Really' You that hard up for bad publicity....because that's all I am man, nothing but an albatross, yeah?"

"Well, yes, if we decided to shoot you..." The man chuckled mildly as they seemed to get the reference and understood the context. "....though honestly I think even that course of action would bring us luck, wouldn't you agree" But no, you are, believe it or not, quite the commodity....to the right people. A group like mine can harness your reputation to great benefit while avoiding the worst of the negative effects making your life worth more than your death."

Blue eye blue watched the man incredulously as they made the hell he'd been through sound as though it was one of the best things that could have happened to him. "Is that so...?"

Polzin nodded emphatically. "It is. And I'm even willing to take such a risk because Delorno vouched for you. Had you no champion, no one to proclaim your understanding and cooperative spirit well, then, this conversation would be going much differently."

There was little doubt on the validity of that statement as he let his gaze wander about that wall of orange which kept him 'safe', the dwarven woman who looked like they were just itching to finish beating him into a paste. It really worked to highlight in what a poor bargaining position he was in. "So you get to levy my 'can do' attitude for your gain, what do I get out of this then"

"In exchange for your support I am offering what all your bravado and ability as a hunter cannot attain here " security. Those willing to watch your back, friends to help you cover all the angles those who wish you ill can approach from, even comrades to assist you if another "episode" as what has occurred tonight happens again. What I offer is not something that can be bullied or bought, but must be granted and earned." They paused dramatically to let those words sink in. "So, what do you say?"

Feeling his already anemic expression thin he couldn't quite buy in that sales pitch which felt more like a threat wrapped in some inspirational condiments than an actual lifeline. "I don't know, doesn't seem like I'm really getting a choice in the matter."

"It doesn't?" The man's head canted in an ever so slightly confused manner. "You obviously can agree or reject my proposal. It may not be an endlessly divergent choice but a choice it is nonetheless."

"And what if I tell you to piss off?" The stout woman was positively bristling next to the gentleman but Mach couldn't really find the will to care given the gravity of things made the threat of midget fist seem small in comparison.

And almost predictably Polzin just chuckled at his abrasive nature which only worked to aggravate him further. "Then we would leave you to your fate of course. I nor any of my subordinates are beholden to force assistance on you, if you truly wish to continue your struggle alone that is your prerogative. Out of respect for Mr. Delorno's judgment I would even wait to withdraw my people from this situation until you were ready to continue your....justice....and out of my own curiosity I can guarantee that none of my people would be allowed to jump in to attack you until....tomorrow lets say..."

"How gracious?"

"It is not meant to be." Something in the man's expression shifted; hardened as they let down their own persona just enough so he could see the clinical monster beneath. "You know as well as I where things stand, the question remains though is whether you make the right decision for you....or keep to your ideals and spite yourself in the process; see how far being a vicious beast can carry you alone."

Of course Mach knew what the right choice was. The right choice involved him fighting the prejudices and insults leveled against him day in and day out all alone and without any support. The right choice left him at the mercy of mere luck and a prayer to carry him safely through this perdition he was cast in. The right choice had him living out his days in perpetual fear of not only those he was locked in with, but of his own failing existence which drove him to more violent and more desperate length....

The right choice sucked" but then whenever had it not' Be a good, upstanding child or feed and keep his siblings safe; be a bigot that tows the purity line or be a scorned outcast but a decent person; keep fighting to hold on stubbornly to that which made him happy or let such slip free to find its own happiness. He'd made a life of making the wrong choice it seemed, but then he'd always been too headstrong not to be true to himself or to face what challenges that stood before him head on. No one ever won big by playing it safe and folding at all the bad hands they were dealt by his reckoning after all.

Not that he was really winning by any measure with this deal, but it was a sight better than the alternative. Reaching out he took the man's well manicured hand in his own bloody, torn knuckle grasp; their grip surprisingly strong. "You got yourself a hunter."

The deed was done, the agreement struck as evidenced by the stretch of a broad, shark like smile upon the fellow. "A prudent choice."

It didn't feel like it was a very prudent choice. If anything it felt more like the sobering stiff tension of a hangman's line growing taut around his throat; as though he was throwing in his chips with wolves eager to feast. Hell, it wasn't really even a choice to begin with by his notion given his Achilles heel was very soon to be public knowledge inviting any and all challengers. No, this was pure and simple survival in the crappiest of situations, yet he couldn't quite help but feel ill at ease about it all even if the alternative was likely a brutal end. "Yeah, sure..."

The man simply shook their finger at him as though scolding a child. "Come now Mr. Turner, no need to be like that. You will see that this is a good thing. We are just people trying to survive and thrive in the world, just like you. But where one is weak and frail, a gathering is strong and able."

Despite the reassuring words he didn't bother trying to correct the sullen unease which hung to his manner as it was obvious the other wasn't making any attempts to mask how pleased they were with how everything came together as clearly planned. "I'll keep my reservations, thanks. So, what?s the great master plan to keep your latest acquisition safe?"

"Theodore."

This warranted an arch of brow. "What?"

"My name is Theodore Polzin, 'The Puppeteer' as known by some before I was apprehended by U.T.R.A. forces in Ingdaler eight years back. If you are amicable we can drop the formalities and you can just call me Theo." A bright smile curled upon the madsci's features at that belated introduction.

"Uh, sure....Theo..." The strange shift in gears threw him for a bit of a loop as the almost conventional style of conversation had nearly lulled him into a false sense normalcy. But sudden breaks like these helped to remind him what he was dealing with: a madsci who typically were notorious for such tangential thoughts requiring a certain fluidity to follow along and keep from slipping up....as well as an understanding that beneath all the normal lay someone who cared as little for social and moral mooring as he did the philosophical ramblings of flies. "....you can call me Mach." That namesake offered up without hesitation as he tried to redirect the conversation. 'But yeah, as I was saying..."

"Ah yes, yes....your safety. That is actually a rather easy question to answer: we're going to turn you in to the guards for brawling."

There was a pause as he let those words sink in, parsing over them for evidence of another leap of topics though he was coming up woefully short. "Um, that sort of sounds like a pretty, er, shitty plan man..."

"Theo."

"Ahh, right, shitty plan Theo..."

The dwarven woman's gaze was nothing but daggers as her frown grew, fists curling in some attempt to throttle her anger at his friendly disrespect. For Polzin's part they seemed to take his manner in stride for the moment. "But is it' You need much more medical attention than can honestly be given by our mutual friend here as well as somewhere secure to recuperate as this happens. As I see it the medical isolation ward perfectly fits the bill here."

"Yeah, if I want to get in trouble!" He shifted angrily but instantly regretted such, that tube digging in reminding him precisely of the precarious state he was in. "Hng....look, I....I don't want....to spend any more time here then I....gotta, yeah?"

Reaching out the madsci put a hand to his shoulder, pushing him back to ease once more upon those soiled linens in an almost caring fashion. "You're going to get in trouble no matter what my friend. Even were we to stabilize you the longest you could go without the guards noticing your state would be tomorrow morning when they do their comprehensive check. So it is better to strike now and work things in our favor, no?"

He tried to resist that hand but for appearing so dandy Polzin was rather strong making him think the feisty dwarf was probably there just for appearances than any actual need for protection. This notion was only corroborated by the ill feeling he got from the nickname 'The Puppeteer of Ingdaler' which did ring a few hazy bells....none of them very comforting. The fact that this man was in a lower level maximum arcane security prison as this had to have been on account of some sort of exploit or loophole. "Okay, sure, but this could get me more time and-"

"Time is something you do not have a convenience of..." Their smile was chilling as it was knowing, reminding him that this one was quite privy to the mechanics of his failing life. "But do not worry on such, your damsel in distress has agreed to assist us by telling the guards exactly what had happened with just a touch of embellishment. I doubt very much that anyone can truly fault you for such a noble and heroic action....perhaps one of the few times such has worked out in your favor, yes?"

As much as he hated to admit it the man had a point which was only all the more aggravating as it was something he should have been able to come up with himself. To be fair though the chances of actually pulling such off by himself given the situation as it was probably would have been slim to none as he'd have had to fight through all the remaining goons, find the woman, convince her to help him, and do so all before the call to return to cells. As was Polzin had everything put together and ready with a neat little bow on top in the time that he was out to lunch just sort of highlighting the scary efficiency of the madsci and their organization. "Yeah....probably. But what about..." He motioned to the barely moving figure of the goon leader with the beat in face as well as the rest of the motley crew of those nursing their injuries.

"Well, you are going to get into some trouble, of course....hence the need for some embellishment from your friend though I have every faith in her ability to play up her role as the victim. Likely you'll receive a week of solitary confinement for every individual whom you've grievously injured starting your sentence in the medical isolation ward while you recuperate. This will provide you ample security for at least a month or so."

"And after?"

"You join us of course." They smiled brightly at this. "As a new member of our organization and part of my personal entourage. You will be afforded the protection and safety such a position merits-"

"And responsibilities..." He spoke with a cool, sour note at the implications of just what unsavory tasks might come his way being a 'member' of a criminal syndicate.

"And responsibilities, of course, but I have no intention of making you go against your nature Mach. I have just as much need for people to be a force of personality and potential threat as much as I need those who can actually carry out said consequences for complacency. A place and purpose for every part as it goes."

He fought that twist of disbelief that tried to pull upon rugged features at those placation's; after all he knew as much as they who had who by the short and curlies. "Sure, whatever. So are we getting this show on the road or what?"

"Almost, we still have to take care of....one more thing." With a snap of finger the 'doctor' tending to the gurgling one shifted over, something snagged from their bag of dubious medical practice.

It didn't take long for him to see past the rough shape of the cobbled together device and recognize the obvious purpose of the device as a tattoo gun. "H-Hey now! What the hell do-"

The madsci clicked their tongue at him, pulling up the sleeve of their jumper to show off the simple, stylized circuitry tattoo with imbeded 2d barcode which scrawled in monochrome up the inside of their arm, the others present moving in unison to pull their sleeves up as well to show off a myriad of various designs in similar veins. "One of us, yes?"

That lone colbalt took in the assortment of tattoos, the markings that branded them as all part of the same syndicate. It wasn't like he hadn't expected some ritual like this but the need to do it right here and now was rather off putting. "Oh come on, can't you just draw something like a penis on my hand glove" I mean, you know I'm a hunter, yeah' Doesn't exactly jive well to be a branded member of one of the major criminal syndicates of those whom I hunt!"

Theo seemed to consider this mildly, even going so far as to tap their chin in what was obvious theatrics. "Perhaps, but you are a clever and able individual. I am sure as with how you've survived till now you'll figure how to turn the yolk of such a brand to your advantage. But come, surely as a soldier you understands the great importance of such measures of unity."

Mach's felt his lips thin ever so slighty at the naggin feeling that trying to argue along these lines would have been as condusive as trying to convice a wall it was a cloud. "Fine, fine, but you know a lot about hunters, isn't so easy to get ink to stay given-"

"Oh no need to worry, this is a specially formulated ink mixed with a minute amount of poison to help the ink settle in your skin " specifically made for use on hunters."

The man's tone may have been bright and reassuring but nothing about a madsci having a special poisonous ink made up to mark hunters was comforting. But more than that Mach felt his unease stemmed from something much deeper and instinctual; the permenance of such an act looming above like the Sword of Damocles. If Polzin was being true to their word he could see nothing but good coming of this agreement for him; but then as life had been so apt to prove nothing good ever lasted or came without cost and he frankly could not see just how deep this rabbit hole lead. It really was nothing but foolishness to rush into this but then again what choice did he have" And really when all was said and done, being honest to himself, he was just tired of fighting alone and was to the point of taking any hand offered....even be it attached to the devil themselves.

Looking among the collection one last time he let out one final, resigning sigh as he tiredly offered out his flesh arm to the doctor, the wrist turned upwards to their greedily awaiting hands. "One of us..."

Mach

Date: 2016-10-06 12:44 EST
22 Iylsnreed

A bastard like him could get used to treatment like this!" Or this was at least his prevailing view now that he'd had a few months to put things in perspective in regards to his new "arrangement." After making that devils pact with Theo in the maintenance hallway things had proceeded a little too eerily like well-orchestrated clockwork. Patched up and comfortable (or as much as one could be with a hole in their lung) the crew of toughs departed quietly, taking those left looking for a fight along with them. Shortly after some tipped off guards "happened" across him and his handiwork and, as expected, took no niceties roughing him up while securing him for the infirmary along with the rest of the sullen crew of those broken by his hand. It had concerned him that they were just sort of left with him until the guards came along though this seemed to have been a moot worry as they remained meek and docile the entire time, a resounding effect of his rage and hunter status he'd like to have thought though honestly he was pretty sure they were much more afraid of Theo than he.

In the infirmary he was given proper treatment for his wounds as well as participated in more than a few angry interrogations. To say that the prison security was displeased with his antic was a gross understatement especially in light of the small prison riot he incited earlier in the year though at least this had been for a better cause than just him being him. And apparently Theo's assessment of the woman he'd saved acting abilities was spot on as despite the "grave assault and battery' he'd committed to several of his fellow inmates all he was issued in way of discipline was two weeks in isolated recovery and three weeks after in solitary confinement. It was supposed to give him time to reflect on the error of his ways as well as to break his unruly will though in actual he just sort of found it as a refreshing breather from all the shrinks he'd been having to deal with. As for the breaking of will aspect, well, such didn't typically work so well against those trained to combat against such psychological abuse as part of their job. As well being left alone to sulk in a corner was really pretty weak sauce in comparison to some of the truly horrific things he'd endured during the length of his career as a professional punching bag for monsters and empowered individuals alike.

And once this "punishment' had passed and he was released back to the general prison populace" True to their word he was escorted that very first morning straight to a table in the cafeteria seating the ever jovial Theo along with their merry (read: humorless and menacing) band. The madsci greeted him as a friend, making no small show of welcoming the hunter as well as trading about his meal with a few of the other big eaters at the table, a way to dissuade the ever present threat of getting some extraneous iron in his diet via mashed potatoes and razors. It hardly seemed like much but the fact that others now stood with him had a profound effect as the usual scorn and contempt that followed him as a weighty and frightening storm seemed somewhat becalmed.

Oh sure, he certainly knew that even some of those who stood with him now hated his guts but at least they weren't prone to act on such given their affiliation and mutually shared pros and cons for being amicable if not cold. But even for those who hated him there were those who, actually, got to know him and seemed even to like him on their own accord. It was strange but at the same time the schmooze seemed to lavish in such. Friendship and companionship were things he'd sorely been lacking these past months and as much as he held a brave front he couldn't say that the isolation hadn't been almost crushing at times.

It's not like he didn't have folks to talk to of course, not with all the shrinks he had the displeasure of being forced to spend time with or guards he annoyed. But he had been sorely lacking any sort of really friendly interactions aside from the every other month visits from Bell to check on his prosthesis and that single visit from Buck back in Sansreed. But not anymore....now he had people he could speak with, be candid and glib with, be friends with....even if, in the greater scheme of things, they were supposed to be on the opposite sides in the spectrum of law and order.

But then again when you lived among the lawless such differences hardly meant anything. No, here and now he was a comrade in arms, another piece of the machinery that was the Steel Cog Syndicate's presences in this world unto itself. It really did feel like being part of a band-of-brothers, that same feeling he got being in the military (an irony not lost upon him); but then again how could he not make such parallels given the camaraderie, the unity, the sense of purpose and goal? That brand of a tattoo felt like a uniform as it had grown beyond the rushed base of ink put down months before into something tasteful but identifying, complete with what looked as some 2D barcode which he was assured didn't mean 'dildo bait.' And just as was promised he was assigned tasks to do which helped the greater goals of the gang but that never tried his morals or morality. Apparently it was effective enough practice just having a bonafide boogieman as the face and harbinger of your organization; his very presence and affiliation usually enough impetus to get things done without violence.

Yes, a bastard like him could get used to this....which just left him all the more unsettled as he'd been playing the game of life long enough to know such streaks never came without some price. But as this threat took the place of the one which he'd left behind it wouldn't sway him from riding this wave till next it brought him crashing into the craggy rocks of fate and consequence.

Mach

Date: 2016-10-20 06:16 EST
11 Amnsreed

Meandering along Mach moved mindlessly through the cold, gray hallways of steel and stone with a general aim for the cafeteria. His gaze wandered about lazily, taking in those he passed with interest though no longer with that looming sense of panic and danger which used to grip him months ago. No, he moved with a confidence that was healthily cautious rather than bordering on chronic paranoia. Sure the majority of the prison populace were still very much leery or downright loath of him; but his new ties and even friendships built in the syndicate really did give him what he could never have purchased or bullied. They gave him security which let him live as a man rather than just survive as a monster.

It was quiet the load off his shoulders even if he knew there would be a price to be paid later, the burn of that tattoo along his wrist proof enough of that. Flexing his fingers he looked down at the array of lines and symbols, the circuitry pattern that identified him as a made man. It certainly proved useful in here though it had already raised more than a little concern with some of the security staff and the shrinks worried of the influence this place was having on him. A laughable notion for those of poor humor (and he had laughed in the face of a few of the more detested shrinks) but it was something he was still able to talk away as just 'using the system' to his advantage. He was sure he'd have been put under more scrutiny for such if hunters weren't as a whole considered to be a bit of an opportunistic and dishonorable lot to begin with. Go bad reputation for the win, or at least keeping folks off his back.

Rounding another corner he stepped into the large auditorium that was usually the human dining hall, the place he'd started a riot months ago. The place was sparsely populated with many of the benchtop tables stored away opening the space up. During free evenings like this the place was used as a refreshment stop with only a few of the serving tables set up with an assortment of finger foods and drink dispensers. Folks weren't really encouraged to hang out given the minimal guard presence (their focus more on the recreation and sports areas) which was what made the place a comfortable haven for the schmooze. Hey, he was part of something now but that didn't mean old habits were so quick to die.

Wandering up to the serving tables he made note of a pack of fellows in orange, a wry little salute offered as a few of them shot waves and points in his direction, their circuitry brands on proud display. "Yo Faceman! They're showing Night Rally in aud three, you in?"

Mach couldn't help but chuckle at the overly friendly manner which they spoke to him where once they were probably part of the majority who cursed his very existence. It really did add a surreal aspect to things now, especially as how such weird interactions could stem the eyes that fell on him usually whenever he entered a room. "Maybe in a bit, yeah' Going to grub up."

"Sure, sure, we'll keep a seat open."

That lone cobalt blue followed the group as they left, a tranquil smirk escaping him as he turned back to the array of foods. It was more than a little ironic at how naturally he interacted with enforcers like them given how he'd joined the military in the first place to get away from such corrupting influences. Guess it was good evidence that once a thug always a thug though he tried not to think too much on that given the implications.

Stacking up on fruits, cookies, meats, cheeses, and crackers (he was, after all, still a hunter with the appetite to match) he scarcely heard the person sliding up behind until they were almost to the refrigerated table. He may have had a place and community that many dared not screw with now but that didn't mean he was completely safe from reprisal given what he was. Turning about on a dime he drew a surprised gasp from the interloper as he held a....er, banana....in as menacing a manner as he could muster. Hey, he worked with what he had!

Of course that hard edge dulled rather quickly as blue eye gaze fell on his stalker " a rail of a girl who stood short enough that he could see the crest of their head without stretching. Smooth Mach, smooth. The ramping of tension tripped over end, tumbling out as a tired sigh matched by the deflation of his features. "Oh....uh....er, s-sorry. Didn't mean to..."

A meek grin curled on rugged features as he showed off the great banana pistol, his jesters manner earning him a doe eyed blink from the other only exacerbating that embarrassment. Oh sure he knew well enough that the least dangerous looking folks were likely the ones to be most suspicious of but come on; the woman looked like they could have breached the fifty kilo mark only if caught in a torrent while wearing wool down to their underpants!

"....yeah." Despite his floundering though there was something that was bothering him as he kept a leery eye on the woman, a moment or three passing before recognition struck. Hey it wasn't his fault; he was under just a bit of duress the last time they'd met and she was a little less covered by that almost billowy fitting orange jumper. They were, of course, his 'damsel in distress" which he should have really connected sooner given how few of the fairer persuasion still would have anything to do with him (he was still a hunter after all, a lot well known for their rather gregarious" appetites.)

But then the silence that stretched between them as the girl didn't make any effort to respond to his schmoozery was starting to grow painful. Rather than continuing his roving attempts to see just how much foot he could fit into his mouth though he opted for once to do the smart thing and just shut up. So in classic Mach style he adjusted his deadly fruit and absconded the hell out of that awkward situation with haul in tow making his way over to one of the distant tables so as to get his chow on. It wasn't his most elegant retreat but then the woman wasn't giving him much to work with. Not that this was much of a surprise given some of the....fun....things she had to say to him last they met.

What was surprising though was their sudden reappearance before him, noiseless grace almost having him choke up a mouthful of cheddar and saltine in surprise. Forcing down the crumbs he erupted in a fit of coughs which seemed to finally bring a crooked smile to angular features....cheeky. "S-Someth-nnng-something I can do for you...?"

He didn't do much to mask the withering annoyance in his voice as he eyed the stalker though this did little to dim their crooked smile. "Afraid I'm goin' ta bite?" They spoke with a lowland lilt punctuated by the occasional sharp note akin to the crunch of biting into an apple; a melodic enough accent tinted with the flavor of poor education.

"I never discount the possibility." A drab retort as he threw back a cup of juice to help clear his pallet. "So what you stalking me to say 'boo' or something?"

They stifled a snicker, elongated fingers waving in apology. "Oh. Uh, n-nah, nothin' like that. I've....well, I've actually been meanin' ta talk ta you for some time but you've been a popular sort lately."

This warranted an uptick of brow as he settled back. "Oh' Have a few more japes and jibes for the 'fucking government dog"'"

Brilliant emerald eyes widened as their delicate features cast through a rainbow of expressions from confused to comprehension to finally settling on an embarrassed rose tint of hollow cheeks. "I....h-hey! It's not like I asked you ta save me ass! "

"Riiiight, cause you looked like you had things well under control."

"Yeah an'-..." That growl spit response was caught on their tongue as the they took a moment to breath, working to reign in their hackles. The woman had much better control of her temper than he'd ever had apparently as after a few breaths that irate tension eased from angular cut features with a sigh. "....Look, I-I didn't come here ta get inta a pissing match with you."

Watching them Mach couldn't help but feel a little like a jerk for goading them to such a reaction in the first place. But then there was an image he had to uphold now so as to continue to be useful to the syndicate which provided for him. And, maybe, he was still just a tiny bit annoyed at their initial reaction....maybe. Letting out a tired sigh of his own he waved off the woman's concern. "It's fine, it's fine. But still, doesn't explain why you did seek me out given all that was said and done."

They fidgeted a little before finally planting her butt down to join him, straddling the bench seat as she leaned against the table. "I wanted ta thank you of course." The woman's words were blunt as she reached over, stealing a cracker and tossing it into her mouth before he could rise a complaint. "You really did do me a solid then. Pulled my ass outta the fire and got me proper look'n after." To that last part she flashed the inside of her thieving wrist, the tell tale branding of the syndicate etched into her skin to where it vanished in that orange sleeve.

It had been of some curiosity why the 'damsel' provided such a stellar act for the guards so he was only given a slap on the wrist. He'd just figured Theo put the screws to them which if this was the case it was better if he didn't poke around for the truth...which he'd clearly not. Never did he figure that they'd offer the woman a place in the syndicate, particularly given it was an organization that was interested in talent alone rather than numbers. "Oh, well, uh, your....um, your welcome....I guess. But I didn't have anything to do with you getting into the syndicate."

His tone should have been deflating but seemed to do little to wane the smile that played across the woman's face. Certainly not as much as the apple slices they stole and munched! "Don'f self yo'sel' s'ort!" Spindly fingers slapped against his arm in a friendly manner as they swallowed their loot before showing off a brilliant smile. "You really did come ta my aid like a knight in shining. Those guys just wanted ta get thar jolly's off....didn't even offer me a proper place yet. 'Have ta test the merch, yeaaa~"'" Her tone drawled out in mockery before cutting off in a snort, a few more apple slices stolen and popped in between pouty, sullen lips.

"Well I just did what I thought was right..." Catching the lip of his stacked tray he pulled it away from the woman's thieving grasp causing her features to scrunch in disappointment. He didn't pay much mind to this though as he worked to keep the embarrassment and sourness such praising words created within. "...nothing special that. Anyway what did you think would happen if you involved yourself with thugs like that?"

"I'd not get made inta someone's bitch."

This....gave the hunter pause as he shot them a sidelong glance. There really wasn't much he could say against such logic; she was a pretty and frail looking thing, not what you wanted to be in any sort of prison. "Looked like that's what you were working on becoming when I came along."

The woman snorted at him, that hand squeezing his bicep with fascination before sliding up to mess with his hair. "Not by choice! I'd heard Rober treated folks under him fairly and weren't too big fer his breeches so was willin' ta take bait like me. Just didn't 'xpect the interview ta be so 'under him'."

Mach shifted away from the hair assault, batting back the hand while once more pushing forth the tray of food as sacrifice which the woman seemed keen to accept. An exasperated glare was given to no avail as he readjusted his hair. "Right....well, you're welcome I guess. Not much of a rescue though since I had to get my ass pulled from the fire..."

"Hey, you were kickin' pricks like a champ before you, you know, weren't." A simple enough shrug of slender shoulders as they pecked away at his dwindling haul of mixed nuts. This one definitely seemed to lack a sense of danger or propriety. "I mean, Rober was suppose ta be a badass, yeah' And you just came in an reversed his face all..."

Moving swiftly he snatched her hand as she cheerfully reenacted the motion which he'd beat the guys face in with. "Yeah, I get it, I was there..."

"Do you?" The blunt question combined with the curious tilt of their head gave him pause. "Looked pretty 'seein' red' ta me."

His features thinned a little at that observation of his character which he wasn't terribly proud of, her hand released as he settled back and away. "It's called focus, something you need when you're not about to be taken for a ride."

There was a pang of guilt even as those needling words left him but the woman didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't seem interested in responding. "Sure, whatever, still pretty vicious till you face hugged that fist. Boy let me tell ya you gave that guy a scare!" No, most certainly didn't seem to notice as she was almost beaming with those words, and yet the expression softened almost immediately. "Gave me one too you jerk. Thought you keeled it then and there."

"Why, afraid you'd get in trouble for being involved in the death of the government stooge?"

"Because you helped me, shitty hunter or not! I'ma big mouth but I ain't an ingrate!" An agitated huff escaped as they curled in on themselves while shooting him an uncomfortable glare with those large, vibrant green eyes.

What caustically glib followup he had withered on the vine as he slumped a little away from that irate glower. "Er....right..." Mach shifted uncomfortably, a few crackers snagged and nibbled on mindlessly as his wheels spun trying to figure out why he was being such an asshole. He had his theories but none of them left him feeling very good about himself nor proved to be much of an excuse for his behavior. Draining one of the juice cartons he'd already started he offered a thin, apologetic smile even as he came to the conclusion to shift gears rather than get mired down in apologies. "So how'd you end up..." He lifted his own forearm, gesturing to the tattoo that scrawled its way down his flesh.

The woman seemed to hold on to her aggravation for a moment or so longer before puffing her cheeks, releasing a slow, lethargic hiss of breath. "You're not a very honest sorts are ya..." She pierced him with another glare, pinning the apology from falling from him as she settled back with a lopsided smile. "I ran when you took your dive, was gonna fetch a guard, see, when I ran inta Daisy. She passed me off ta Theo and he offered me a place if I cooperated. No tryout or nothing, pretty sweet deal!"

Mach couldn't help but cringe a little at that name....Daisy....or as he knew her better 'the short and angry dwarven woman.' It was almost comical that such a brawny bruiser was named after a delicate flower of all things but, as he'd learned over the past months, they didn't agree with his sense of humor and were good at showing such disapproval. But then the only person they did happen to be cordial to was Theo which was a story he'd not been able to work out of anyone. Of course that cringe wasn't just because of recent flashbacks of just how much a threat someone standing at crotch level could be. No, it was more the re-realization of just how much by the short ones the madsci recruiter had him by. At very least he had enough tact not to tell....T. Bardwick 844267....that her place in the syndicate may well have been as hostage for a plan B were he to reject Polzin's original offer.

Putting this thought aside for the moment he instead focused on trying to at least get a portion of the food he had gotten for himself as the woman seemed perfectly intent to help themselves. "Well good for you, yeah' Glad things are working out."

"Mmm hmm!" An emphatic nod as they worked through his selection of fruit, a few last pieces chewed and swallowed thoughtfully freeing her features up for a dazzling smile that had no place in a penitentiary. "And I have you ta thank, even if I was a prat. So yeah, thank you Mach!"

There was something about the genuineness and brightness of that smile which, bewilderingly, made him cringe. A pretty terrible reaction to have to such an innocent and pure expression, even he knew this, but such didn't alter the truth of how uncomfortable it all made him. And what more he couldn't even pinpoint a specific moment when he'd become so damned jaded that pure smiles were something to distrust. No, it was just a continuum of crap hands that beat the trust from him, left him all the more leery and distrusting in the face of such tenderness which should have left him feeling warm and fuzzy. "Uhhh....yeeeah, let's tone it down a little. I beat folks to a pulp for you; not saved your puppy or life or what not."

A tarnish coated over that brilliant smile at his lack of even modest acknowledgment of their gratitude, those emerald gems gazing soulfully at him for a moment or two before she finally scooted forward. "No way grouchy." Their expression was coy as they made that jibe, that smile softening. "Like I said, loud mouth but no ingrate."

His own expression dulled at those words feeling more than a little defensive as he was not very accustomed to receiving gratitude for anything he did. But then when you've spent most your life as a thug, a monster, a schmooze, and an ass well such wasn't really to be unexpected. What was unexpected though was the run of those dainty fingers up his arm as the coy woman leaned in to whisper warmly in his ear. "An' speaking on such I know a cozy little place where I can really show you my appreciation."

A shiver ran up his spine in equal amounts intrigue and revolt while his mind sort of hit a brick wall, the turn of events rather jarring though he worked to keep the daze from his features. Of course the light flick of tongue along his earlobe did wonders to sabotage his attempts of composure. "H-Hey, wh-wait, huh?"

The confused sputter worked to light the woman in a chortle, mirth playing across those expressive eyes. "Surely you can't be that dense."

"Wh-n-no..no! I know what you mean! That is, I don't even know your name and-" No head, let the brain do the thinking! Giving himself the mental equivalent of a clap to the cheeks he shook the question away. "-no, that's not-"

"I'm Talila." The word rolled from them in a fond coo with their smile a blend of entertainment and sultry. "And you are the most blushin' school boy hunter I've ever met."

Mach clung to the feeling of the drab expression which naturally crossed him in response to that playful jab. Putting some distance between himself and the woman's lips he worked to collect himself as he settled his blue eye blue gaze upon her in an incredulous fashion. "We can't all be one with the swag." That bald faced quip tossed out naturally as he gained a hold of the reigns to this conversation once more. "And that's not the issue. I mean seriously, I stepped in to save you from getting your body taken advantage of!"

"Yeah ya did, and for that I decided I wanna share the booty you saved, myself, without coercion or the like."

His mouth flapped ready to launch a witty response till she came out with that little nugget of logic which left him thin lipped and frowning. "I think I know how you got into that spat of trouble in the first place."

This drab jab earned him a pouting glower. "Yeah, yeah, ya go with what you know." Snorting derisively the sullen cloud seemed to blow over as her lips titled in a sly smile once more. "But come on, ya can't say you're not interested in what I'm offerin'..." There was a blink as something seemed to occur to them. "...probably' Guess you could prefer a harder-"

"No." He cut her off briskly before she could go rambling down the rabbit hole of his less than simple sexual preferences. Casting a sidelong look at the woman he noted a lot of long limbs and silken cut angles that could easily look exotically appealing with the right window dressing. An oversize orange jumper and a standard issued cropped prison bob hair cut however only played up the gangling aspect of such a frail build but it wasn't without it's charms. Letting out a spent sigh he pushed such thoughts aside as he settled in the palm of his glove crooked up by an elbow giving him an almost bored look. "Look, I appreciate the gesture, but I didn't pull you out of that fire looking for any sort of payment or leverage over you."

Those naturally plump lips flattened as an incredulous look of their own crossed them. "I know that dummy. You're a hunter, being a goody goody is like, part of what ya are. But I want ta do this because there ain't much else I can do....plus you're kinda a looker and I bet that modest boy act of yours ends at the sheets if yer anything like the other hunters I've had."

Mach felt his own lips twitch against the urge to frown at being called a 'goody goody' and the wicked grin that grew upon the woman at that last observation. Not that he had anything against folks who enjoyed a long and varied sexual history; talk about the kettle calling the pot black! No, there were plenty other reasons why her words left him feeling a little windless, many of which the shrinks in this place had tried dragging from him kicking and screaming. "Alright, alright, I get it. I'm flattered, really, but..." Floundering silence fell over him as mulled over exactly how or why he was rejecting such a generous offer.

Studying him with that verdant gaze it only took a moment for a sort of 'ah ha' look to crossed their features. "Oh, oooooh, you gotta main squeeze in the outside, yeah' Someone you're committed ta."

This stab in the dark froze him momentarily, his stomach doing a flop before a weak willed chuckle escaped him. "N-No, nothing like that..." The pang of guilt felt like an icicle in his chest as he casually played off that notion, the memory of Sarai's aquamarine gaze and Lauren's caramel smile flashing across his mind. The two women and even the one reminisced of as a bouquet of sea breeze and smoky drinks were very much a reason he was refusing such an offer. But then he'd left them behind, and done so with grim purpose behind his actions so why exactly was he hesitating in the face of what he knew would truly put a nail to the coffin of such relations"

He struggled with that question through the false little laugh his, some juice snagged and thrown back as a way to try and reset the conversation back onto a path he was willing to delve into. "I just....am not in that way at the moment. I-It's nothing against you, you're smashing, it's just....the situation, this place, all the folks just looking to catch me merrily with my pants down so they can shove an iron up my ass, those sort of things. Bad for the good times."

Mach kept his fingers crossed as he watched the woman mull over his words, her expression a twist of skeptical and wary before finally she deflated with a lamenting sigh. "Yeaaaaah, I guess I can see that." Lips pursed in a pout before they cracked into another brilliant smile. "So, 'smashing' huh?"

Shoulders sagged in relief as the woman seemed fine enough to accept his logical answer though that little tease had him sputtering, a slight heat rising upon rugged features. "Y-yeah....I mean, you are rocking your half-elf heritage after all."

And now it was Talila's turn to pause, a blink as he called her out. "Wh-wa-how?"

"You're build and proportions are just a little too off to be neat human, plus you have that really unsettling stare thing down that elves do pat and you've got the really fuzzy arms....bet it must be expensive for shaving products. Other than your lack of point tipped ears you're a pretty classic halfy."

She stared at him astoundingly while he drably ticked off his observations in an all to happy to be moving away from the previous topic manner. A moment was taken to register all of this before she curled back with a scowl at that end bit of racist lingo he threw in for flavor. "Teach ya all that in hunter academy?"

"Yes, actually." The response was made bluntly, helping to hammer home the reminder that he was still a hunter, a boogieman not to be associated with so casually. He'd let this thought settle in briefly as he snagged a cookie to nibble on. "But I do mean it, you look pretty smashing and were circumstances different, well..." Those words that were far more true than she ever could have known trailed off so as they could draw their own conclusions.

Watching him from their defensive curl it wasn't until he popped the last of that cookie into his mouth that she struck, surging forward to plant a soft kiss to his lips. "I'll hold you ta that faceman."

Mach blinked caught of guard by the warmth against his lips, a rouge color rising upon his cheeks at the sudden invasion of his personal space. The moment was brief ending with the woman laughing capriciously and he more than a little flustered. "R-right..." His tone had all the sullen mope to it of someone just bested at their own game. This one may well be more dangerous than he figured as they easily manipulated conversations and situations about to their benefit just as he tended to do. Of course he really shouldn't have been surprised at this since they were in a prison and not just an errant mage rehabilitation facility.

Reaching for another cookie he hesitated, a last minute change had him snagging a wiener bite which to preoccupy himself with. "So....Talila, dare I guess how such a 'nice' girl as yourself ended up in a place like this?"

Snickering at the chaos they obviously caused to his composure the half-elf stole one of his milks, sipping at it demurely. "Don't think ya gotta guess hard."

He shrugged mildly as he polished off his wiener, a few more errant bites and remainders caught and popped mindlessly as the conversation finally took a more mundane turn. "Prostitution I warrant."

The fact that she just smiled rather than sputter in outrage told him he got it in one though they did still tap their temple as though he'd missed something. "Half point for the gimme, we all know mules are great on our backs." The dig was made playfully enough but it still made him feel bad about his carefree use of jingoism with the 'halfy' barb. Half-elves we're a particularly looked down on lot, scorned for their mixed heritage from both sides and much like mules born sterile so they could never have a legacy. Hell, the last name of 'Bardwick' was probably something cooked up by the state for legal purposes as many typically found their youths spent in the orphanage and child processing services of the government. It was little wonder many of them turned to the dredge roles of society, particularly once roaming idiot AKA adventuring became an outmoded and federally controlled form of livelihood.

Out of anyone a half-breed was most likely to intrinsically understand some of the hardships and burdens a hunter knew while still having it worse off. Way to be a dick Mach, but then the woman seemed cheerful enough as they teased him by dribbling the milk on her tongue in a very suggestive manner. "But nah, got pinched for casting a wee bit of....encouragement....on my Janes and Johnnys. Guess that hunter that picked me up weren't so keen on that effort." They humphed as a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar would, their expression petulant. "How was I ta know you lot had crap in yer heads to fight against that..."

Mach wasn't sure whether to be fascinated or mortified at the fact that this little waif of a girl dominated her costumers....so instead he just laughed which only served to draw out their petulance. "You tried to dominate a hunter!" Damn girl you got some stones on you!"

"It ain't domination!" Her lips pushed out in a angry pout as she smacked his arm. "It's....well, okay, it is sorta domination..." And just as fast as that righteous fury rose did it meagerly back down. "I just made the experience a little more....special....is all. And maybe encouraged a wee more generosity....ain't nothin' wrong with that!"

Okay, mortified was defiantly the way to go on this though he still couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's moxie. "Well you should probably take this as a lesson about trying to use magic to 'up-sell' your wares." His tone was dry and didactic in an ironic sense sold with the ever so slight upturn of lips in what may have been his first real smile in months.

Whether this last bit registered with the woman or not was of little consequence though their own smile seemed to grow just a touch brighter before twisting haughtily. "Hey, I don't need no mind magic ta up-sell these wares! I gotta magic vajayjay and a hella deep bag of tricks an' kinks!?

To this Mach just lost it as would be the theme of the rest of the evening spent getting something far better than some carnal itch scratched. And come lights out the hunter found sleep for once since his internment without those intrusive thoughts of pining for that which he'd left behind.

Mach

Date: 2016-10-26 12:24 EST
7 Dalsreed

"Alright, moving right along the docket here we have" ah, review of rehab status and feasibility of release for inmate 881972 Elitia Turner. Okay, presiding on the committee for this will be Senior Security Officer L. Mitchell, Prison Specialty Services Staff Dr. R. Lagern, Vice Warden G. Oldham, and myself as Judiciary Representative A. Marko esquire.”

Mach worked to stifle a yawn as the judicial lackey went through the legal motions of bringing the hearing to order. A necessity for the court reporter alone it seemed as everyone else in that small, austere room looked to be fighting back the ebb of boredom themselves.

"Mr. Turner, you were sentenced to a service of two hundred ten days of internment and psychiatric care without option for parole. You have filed for no appeals during this time and you have thus served your full sentence time of two hundred ten days of internment and have received psychiatric follow-up for one hundred and fifty two days of that time."

The reminder of just how much time he'd spent under the microscope dealing with shrinks and the likes made him cringe. Lock him up like some animal was a-okay, fighting for his very life was pretty much a norm for him, but being badgered that often to have a feel" Yeah, he was pretty sure his time here had only made him less emotionally stable and likely to seek help before he melted down. Not that he was prone to do such to begin with but still...

"I see that there are some questionable activities noted on the inmates disciplinary record and that their T.V.C.A score has increased from thirty nine to sixty two. Mr. Mitchell, do you believe there's any reason for increasing the inmates retention time so as to work on improving said deficits?"

He felt pretty stupid having to stand in that waist high metal box, shackled by three points which were then connected by three points to the rails of that cage. And the only reason he wasn't shackled by four points was because they'd ordered the removal of his prosthesis while before the committee leaving one of his danger orange sleeves flopping emptily. Kind of overkill really but then it was standard operating procedure with mages" and being sent here was supposed to cure him of his mage sympathy.

"It's true that 881972 has made a" spectacle" of himself during his stay but it's of note that most of those listed offenses occurred due to mitigating circumstances th-"

"Not all." Lagern's tone was drab yet sharp as they made correction of Mitchell's testament of his innocence in most of the trouble involving him. Seems like someone was still a little sore about nearly getting their ass beat with a chair though he tried his best not to role his eyes at this thought.

Mitchell, for their part, didn't show the same amount of restraint as he made no attempt to hide his disdain of the shrinks interruption. "-due to mitigating circumstances that were typically not of his direct creation. Granted he certainly hasn't done a lot to avoid violence once it sprang up around him but at each disciplinary review it has been previously decided not to pursue further charges."

The judicial rep shuffled about a few paper, scrawling here and there without really taking an over keen interest in the proceedings. "And what about the sharp jump in his T.V.C.A. Score?"

"A byproduct of the company he's associated with in the later parts of his sentence."

"Fell in with a bad crowd, hate how I do that when surrounded by such fine, upstanding people as found here." His dim grin was stomped out by the seething glares he got across the board. "Er, sorry."

"Mr. Turner, please re-frame from speaking out of turn, particularly if you don't have anything of worth to contribute." The pencil pushing prick went so far as to push their glasses up the bridge of their nose which made them look all the more snotty and smug as they chided him. Were he not so close to freedom he may well have given the bureaucrat what for but instead he simply nodded sullenly though he did roll his one hand snarkily in a 'get on with things' fashion because principle. "Ahem, um, Mr. Mitchell?"

The security officer could have beat him with the look they were giving him, likely really wishing they could do just that so as to shut him up from ruining his release and, ergo, their sweet relief from having to deal with him. Of course what fantasies of violence were dashed by the drab tone of the paper pusher. "Oh, um, he's, uh, actually sort of right. The new markings on his wrist are of the same type of patterns associated with a known gang in the prison. His affiliation and the reputation of this group is what has caused the most increase in his threat assessment."

"A gang?" A thin brow arched suspiciously at him as a few notes were jotted down.

"The Steel Cog Syndicate..."

"The Steel Cog Syndicate!?" There was no hiding the shock that crossed padded features at the very well known criminal organization. Shooting a leery glance his way this expression only grew as Mach wiggled his fingers at them friendly like. "And you don't feel such warrants further investigation or should prove a reason to postpone his releas-?"

"No, no I do not!" That swift response made the judicial liaison jerk some in surprise, their weary gaze cast to the man who stumbled to try and cover up their eagerness to be rid of the troublemaker. "Ahem, th-that is to say that Mr. Turner has shown no increase in aggression since becoming affiliated with this gang. As it stands his antagonistic behaviors seem to have decreased these past few months. So, uhhh, as thus, I feel the prisoner has been properly rehabilitated and not in any further need of retention or else such may actually prove to be more detrimental as he spends more time with this element."

The suspicion was nearly palatable as they watched the guard work very hard to paint him in some positive light; a task, as he understood from many others, was not an easy thing to accomplish no matter the circumstance. After a few moments of consideration the court stooge turned their gaze back to him, their expression plainly vexed. It obviously didn't sit well with them that a military grade monster was cozying up with a major criminal empire that was well known for using empowered individuals to further their agenda. "Dr. Lagern, do you agree with this assessment?"

The shrink lazily worked on cleaning their glasses, long features held in a mild frown as they cast a steel gray glance up to the liaison. "I wouldn't know, the patient is summarily uncooperative with counseling and resistant to psychiatric treatment options..." Setting those horned rim glasses back upon their face they shifted that dismissive gaze his direction. "I would even go so far as to say that Mr. Turner suffers from sociopathic tendencies exhibiting many hallmarks and signs of antisocial personality disorder on top of his pronounced PTSD."

There was a moment of stunned silence from all at the savagely blunt assessment of the hunter; the weaselly jerk apparently enjoying themselves as they settled a smug look upon him. It took everything in his power not to yell a string of curses at the bastard, his restraints creaking softly as he flexed his fist impotently. "R-Really' So....you feel the prisoner is not really rehabilitated and not ready to rejoin society?"

Oh yeah, he hated this shrink with a passion. It was obvious they were getting one last dig in while baiting him, trying rouse a reaction that would only prove their point. He so wanted to tell the guy where to shove his analysis but that would only play into their favor while his silence played into their ego that they had him pegged and squirming....and being perfectly honest Mach wasn't sure which was the worst feeling. Chewing his lower lip sullenly the psychiatrist finally offered up a thin, content smile. "I feel that Mr. Turner is not capable of being rehabilitated to be honest. But remaining in a place as this, I feel, would only fuel his dysfunction particularly since he is quite capable in society as he is. It is certainly my recommendation he continues outpatient psychiatric care so as to help him work through his....many....issues but again, that is something he can pursue outside of the corrupting influences of this establishment."

Marko gave the shrink a puzzled look as they worked on separating the barbs from the proper recommendation. Of course they could have just been working to try and spin the man's words into something that could be used to retain him as from the reluctant testimonial of those boarding this committee Mach wasn't so much fit for release as he was for a bullet to the head. Looking back to their notes they fiddled absentmindedly with their glasses before casting a look to the vice warden. "Vice Warden Oldham, do you have anything to add?"

The older man let their low brow gaze lift up towards him, their expression tired as the assessed the hunter. A silent few seconds passed before the rest of them animated, portly features shaking. "Mr. Turner?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Don't ever return to my prison again, got it?"

Mach felt himself starting to grin affably at the man though the cold frown that sat prominent upon their padded visage withered such notions. "Oh, er, of course."

Narrowing their brown eyed gaze upon him for a moment longer they finally turned to look at the judiciary liaison. "He's served his time and there's no reason to keep him, certainly not here given how grossly inappropriate one as he is for this particular culture of prisoners. Call it."

The court stooge withered at those blunt words, a fidgeting look cast back to the hunter before finally a tired sigh escaped them. "Alright then. So in light of no mitigating circumstances requiring further investigation or treatment this committee finds Elitia Turner fit for release..." Dropping their pen they grabbed for one of the stampers set before them, a hollow thud ringing out as they apparently put the seal of approval on his file. "Mr. Turner, you are slated for release within fourty eight hours. In that time you will have to pack what personal belongings you wish to take with you out of the prison and submit for final medical review and inspection. Do you have any questions."

Letting his blue eyed gaze wander across the row of disapproving faces Mach opted simply to shake his head rather than risk shoving his foot into his mouth.

"Then congratulations, you are once more a free man Mr. Turner, don't take that for granted....Alright, let's bring on the next case for review."