And you can't break out

[shakespearealien]

Who: Nero (ripped), Gorthan (shakespearealien) and Agnus (tickleironysjudgment).
Where: Mysterious non-Goldenrod Celadon Rocket base!
When: When Nero is being kept as a prisoner?
Summary: Agnus' accounts of Nero had made Gorthan too curious to pass up this opportunity.
Rating: PG, maybe? I don't know how intense you guys can get.
Log:

As busy as Gorthan had been recently, this was another matter deserving his attention. Agnus' enemy had been captured, and Gorthan was eager to meet this man who was able to give his dear colleague such a hard time. Of course, Gorthan could have done it before, over the network, maybe. But that... wouldn't have been the same thing now, would it?

According to what Gorthan had gathered from Agnus' accounts, Nero was someone who had betrayed his previous loyalties out of love. Which reminded Gorthan of... several things. Including himself, of course, having betrayed Evron for his love of Earth.

He saw no reason to mask or conceal himself - he had never needed such things. He wore his Evronian robe, however - a long, loose-fitting turquoise garment with a high neck, the extraterrestrial design actually reminiscent of certain traditional Asian clothing.

There was an excited spring in his step as he and Agnus approached the place where Nero was being kept. This would be interesting.

"Agnus, Nero, Kyrie, Dante... the people from your world have such fascinating names." he observed idly. Maybe it wasn't the first time he made a remark on that, but it was simply something that never ceased to amaze him.

Comments

[tickleironysjudgment]

He was ecstatic, absolutely overjoyed, intrigued, and bemused. Nero was in a cage like the confounded little stray he undoubtedly was, and even better still he could find no greater joy than he show off the miserable thing to his coworker and comrade. It was like being right back in the laboratory under the castle, it really was, and it made him nearly giddy at all the possibilities.

Ah, but speaking of Gorthan, the man himself seemed to be in quite high spirits as well. Honestly it nearly felt a parable to Chaucer in some ways, the two priests on horseback riding close on their way to pilgrimage. Granted they were less men of cloth and more men of...well, vastly unholy and unethical scientific means but the principle remained the same.

"I suppose. Perhaps living there removes one from the ability to sense such, but being as aware as I am of the religious trappings I surmise I could understand your interest." It wasn't hard to detect, really, they all had very specifically arranged Roman or Catholic names. Well, then there was Dante, son of Sparta and brother to Virgil. That in and of itself was a point of great intrigue.

"The lamb of god, the hedonist emperor, the lord's prayer, and the hell-bound wandering son. Literately speaking, perhaps, a fascinating set of names. However, nearly all names have some significance in the past." Sure, he was being a bit dismissive of it. It did pass over his head a bit and wasn't exactly something he put a great deal of thought into, but it seemed to amuse Gorthan and that was enough for him to warrant a bit of commentary. "However, Gorthan, I'm more interested in what you'll make of the boy himself. I fear he'll fall short of the mark his name puts him up to, mangy little stray as he is...still, we may find a use for him later on. Human or no, he is still the specimen I have always wanted to capture and study..."

[ripped]

He'd been in worse scrapes!

Is what he kept telling himself, banging the heel of his boot against the bars of his cell--no, cage. The noise of the vibrating metal was the only thing to fill this empty, black room. For the umpteenth time, he scanned around himself: nothing of use, the bars unyielding and he himself stripped down to his undershirt and jeans. Vulnerable.

He hated it! Hated this infernal waiting! Hated to have been caught! Hated not being able to warn someone--anyone! Hated being powerless. Hated feeling weak. Without pokemon, here he was nothing, little more than a boy with too much brawn and too little brain. He ached for that quaking, furious power in his blood to howl again, and yet all he could find to ache was the dull pain of whatever Agnus had deigned irradiate him with.

He was haunted by vivid hallucinations and a near-constant migraine state. Every little noise was too loud, every voice a scream. Colors made him dizzy and bright lights, nauseous. A sharp descent, for someone with no recollection of ever having been truly ill. That was disregarding the physical symptoms: the fangs, the mottled purple spots on his joints.

The door creaked open, admitting a familiar figure, an unfamilair one trailing after. Immediately he was snarling, flattening his back against the wall of the holding cell like a cornered animal. He cradled his bad arm to his chest, drawing up his knees. He looked between the two men, eyes narrowed.

"You know what they say: two's company, three's a crowd," he managed to spit out, mouth twisting into a rictus of a smile.

[shakespearealien]

"Now, now. You have always wanted to capture him? That I was not aware of. I fear there is still much you have to tell me, my dear friend..."

As soon as the door was opened and they stepped inside the dark room, Gorthan immediately sensed something that erased his smug smirk from his face. And he hadn't even looked at Agnus' quarry yet... He walked closer to the cage, examining Nero with a slow nod of his head. When he spoke again, he was still addressing Agnus.

"You should at least refrain from berating him. He hardly strikes me as a boy, for one."

While Gorthan couldn't really know if Nero had looked any different before, by now, he was familiar with those purple spots and knew what they meant. Not to mention that Gorthan's enhanced senses told him that something was altogether off, as well as that it would be best to keep a safe distance from that cage... Could it be that Nero had been injected with an element opposite to Gorthan's?

"I see you have already played with him, Agnus. Which explains why you let me come here... Very well."

Gorthan bent down to look at Nero at eye level, his overconfident countenance gone and replaced by seriousness and sobriety. While he was light years away from sympathizing with the captive, Nero's situation was no laughing matter, either.

"The only purpose of my visit is to have a look at you, Nero. I suggest you stand down."

He observed the young man carefully, wondering if his behavior was always so animal-like, or if the mutagens were entirely to blame.

"I trust you know why you are here. It may surprise you to know that this is about much more than my colleague's personal revenge."

As much as Agnus would like to think otherwise, he mentally added.

[tickleironysjudgment]

"Always might be something of an exaggeration, granted. But," he paused as Gorthan bent down to examine his prey. The human child with demonic power, the source of his infinite frustrations to the fall of the order. "Oh, Gorthan, I couldn't help myself. This is an unprecedented opportunity to analyze my hypothesis. I chose Dark because it most closely resembles demonic power by essence, the results so far have been...interesting to say the least."

Interesting, indeed. The physical transformation, the fangs, the splotches of purple, all familiar in a way. But not the same. Not what he wanted, what he hoped to find.

"Nero, lad. Let me introduce you to my colleague, Gorthan. I believe you were already acquainted with some of the field department on your way here?" There was no way on Earth or whatever planet they were on he could resist it. A chance to goad and taunt and savor the moment once more. "As you can see, Gorthan, the physical symptoms have already shown. And the behavior of the subject also indicates the injections are causing him to go...feral. Of course, he always was a noisy, feisty little mutt..."

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he watched his colleague go to work, but that last bit about his revenge...

"Oh, Gorthan, come now. As much as I enjoy this it does not d-d-distract me from the point of this project. The results are a priority above any other objective I might have."

[ripped]

His eyes flickered between his captor and the other, unknown man, taking in the introduction with half an ear. Why should he care what some fool's name was? He'd be dead as soon as Nero got out of here. Dead. Agnus' taunt got him a bared fang, but Nero still managed some semblance of humor.

"Oh, I met 'em, all right. I introduced them to my fists a couple times."

That hadn't prevented Agnus' grunts from getting the better of him, outnumbered as he was, but he relished the memory. Letting the two men talk, he kept one eye grimly focused on Gorthan, having deemed the calmer, more authoritative presence as the threat. Whatever drivel was falling from Agnus' lips held little significance for him, but when Gorthan addressed him, he uncurled a bit, drawing his right arm away from himself and into the light.

The tests had been administered from the right arm. The veins throbbing just under the soft inner skin were now running a near-black purple, mottled black bruises in the crook of the elbow. At the joints of the elbow and knuckles, a thin crust of dark red carapace, but little more. Nero drew it in again. Like having all the weight of the Devil Bringer with none of its power.

"Are you gonna fill me in, Doc? I'm anxiously awaiting your explanation."

So, so dry.

[shakespearealien]

"That had better be the case." Gorthan said to Agnus. And for the next few moments, the alien scientist did not deign his colleague of any further attention whatsoever.

Gorthan's gaze was fixed on Nero, on the unnatural coloration of his arm, on his bared, clearly mutated teeth.

He lowered himself further, almost mirroring the way Nero sat. He found he was unable to look away from the young man, and not just out of his desire to study him. There was something else... something related to the Psychic-type powers that now resided within Gorthan. An inscrutable, instinctive fear that came with the knowledge that Gorthan was before a mind he could not hope to control.

"Your hostility is misplaced, Nero." He said calmly. "Can't you see?"

At that, the circle-shaped jewels on Gorthan's forehead started glowing white. It lasted only a moment, before the light flickered once and then stopped altogether, the jewels returning to their usual silver.

"There is nothing I can do to you." Gorthan admitted, closing his eyes gravely and lowering his head in a primal sign of defeat.

[tickleironysjudgment]

"Gorthan...I'm a little hurt, my friend. Revenge is all well and good, but this is science." Oh well, Gorthan was off doing his own bit. Saying anything to him while he was involved in his work was useless, as it would be useless for anyone to try and speak to himself in the same circumstance. This it fell upon him to watch and wait, to allow his superior to examine the current subject of research and experimentation while he- yes- documented the findings.

Where-in at this point, Agnus take the clip-board out of his coat and fishes out a pen to begin writing. No surprise, really, but the experiment does make him perhaps a little more eager to begin.

"You see his arm? Look. At the joints. I know that transformation, Gorthan. That carapace, that armor, the shell that once covered the arm fully." He jots the appearance of the arm down in finite detail while he speaks, adding notes to coincide with the exact dose of infusion.

"Your observations of the subject so far?" He asks, begging the question to continue his writings. Any input, and thing to add for further research. Anything, now that he has a taste of that which he had for so long dedicated his life to once more.