Not in Kansas Anymore, The Lame-verse Saga - Chapter 1

[Oversoul]

It was stunning.

There weren't any other words for how this day had gone. When he had awakened that morning, Domerin Lorcasf had been absolutely sure he knew how the world worked. Everything had been familiar and normal and his plans for the day had included a simple, routine mission that should have been like a hundred other missions that he had participated in throughout the course of his military career. So many things had happened in the past few hours that his head was still spinning and he wasn't entirely certain he knew anything about the world any more.

He'd never thought he'd be the one glowering out through the bars of a prison cell at American police officers. If anyone had ever told him he'd end up in this position after sixteen some odd years of faithful service to the US military, he would have laughed in their face. But now here he was.

He still didn't understand it.

He and his companions had been brought to the police station, read their rights and shoved into a prison cell. Luckily, it was empty save for themselves. The strange girl who had appeared with them in the warehouse had been separated from them; presumably she had been placed into a cell in a separate area which was meant for women. Rose was also missing. No one knew exactly what had happened to her, and Domerin was starting to worry. Certainly they wouldn't have thrown an unconscious woman into a cell, but what had they done with her? With the way things were going and the way people were acting, god only knew if they would get her the proper medical care, or if they would even be able to find her if they ever got out of this crazy mess.

Their arrest was no longer the most bizarre thing that had happened to him that day. After they had sat in their cell for nearly half an hour, he had been escorted, alone, to a small meeting room. There he had been lectured about what was - apparently - his third offense this month. His lecturers had gone on to tell him that there would be no overlooking his behavior if he could not learn to control himself and then he was informed that they had called his manager. Domerin had no idea what that meant. As far as he knew, he didn't have a manager. His every attempt to get the police to look at his military ID, or Greg's, had failed. They laughed and dismissed him as if he was delusional. One of the officers had asked him if he was trying some new drug today that made him say such crazy things. That had shut him up pretty quickly.

At least they had been informed of their offenses when he had been returned to the cell to join his companions, but they didn't help him make any more sense of the situation. Apparently they included breaking and entering (that one he could get, since they'd been uninvited guests to the warehouse), stealing goods from said warehouse, illegal possession of military grade weapons and.... smoking.

As far as he was concerned, the whole world had turned upside down.

Now he was standing in the cell, leaning back against the bars, one foot firmly planted on the ground, the other leaning up against the bars, his arms crossed over his chest, his face still twisted into a scowl. He had just finished recounting the tale of what had happened while he'd been in the meeting room... not that he thought any of his companions would be able to make any more sense of it than he had. It was all he could do to keep from growling, so he sighed for what felt like the millionth time instead. "I don't know what the hell is going on, or when we became the last sane people in the universe, but since when is smoking illegal?!"

[Livewire]

Ever since their apparent transportation to a clothing warehouse in San Fransisco, Cameron had been unusually quiet. While he was normally the first person to make a complaint about not being suited for their sort of work, or fire off a witty quip whenever the opportunity presented itself, the blue-haired teenager had instead withdrawn into a deep, contemplative silence. Even when the police surrounded them in the warehouse and, after seeing Rose laying unconscious on the floor, trained guns on them for some reason, he didn't resist, seeming lost in thought.

When Domerin rather testily raised his question in the holding cell at the police station, Cameron finally spoke up, "It might not be the universe that's the problem. It might be us." Seeming to suddenly feel self-conscious after issuing that sudden and cryptic statement, the young man coughed into his fist and stood up as his cheeks flushed red. "I mean, ah... I've been thinking about it. We were dealing with a level of physics that no one really fully understands with that quantum reactor thing Kroner was working on, which is why he shouldn't have been touching it with a ten foot pole in the first place, but it's too late for that now, right? Anyway, it may look like we just got zapped a few thousand miles south, but based on everything modern science knows about how matter and energy works, instantaneous translocation - teleportation, I guess - is impossible. There's no way within the bounds of physical law to disassemble a body of particles, and reassemble it somewhere else in the blink of an eye.

"What that means is..." The teenager's voice dropped off there, at first seeming to be pausing for dramatic effect before dropping a huge bombshell on the group. In the end, though, Cameron only sighed and slumped back down on the hard bench. "I have no idea what that means."

[Shiv]

"It doesn't mean anything," snapped Nick from where he was seated in the corner, as far from the cell's bars as possible. He appeared to be sulking, after being admonished several times that he wasn't allowed to break through the bars and bust them out of prison. In fact, he seemed to have been rather upset since they had been told not to resist arrest. It sort of went completely against his nature to not resist arrest, after all. Leaning forward sightly, he continued what promised to be a tirade. "Or, more accurately, it could mean anything. The keyword to this whole situation is 'quantum', and the whole point to quantum physics is to explain all the things that then-modern physics couldn't explain... like moving. So, really, a quantum reactor going super-critical could do just about anything, including dissassembling, relocating and reassembling us somewhere else. Add to that the fact that there was a psychic in the mix bein' all psychic, and I'm pretty sure mixing Ascendancies with quantum physics could cause any number of unexpected reactions."

With his rant about physics complete, although he hadn't really said anything to build on what Cameron had... really, he'd just offered some random guesses as to what it might have been, Nick heaved a sigh, looking down at the floor briefly. "I would kill a man for a smoke," he muttered to himself. Then, he looked up, glancing between Greg and Domerin with a smirk. "I could, ya know. I could bust us outta here. Really. I'd enjoy it. It'd be fun for me. And we'd get our cigarettes back!"

[Tag]

/Not Q!/ Oh, he resisted....with his mouth. Fussing, and cussing up a storm, even as he was forced to the ground, disarmed, and dogpiled by several irate police officers. So much so, that while the others were walked out, Tag...was carried, bodily, out into a waiting cop car. Inside, he squirmed, and churned, albeit futilely, against the metal bonds. "I WANNA LAWYER!" Was his final cry.

Later, in the cell, a place no Speedster ought be, nor was mentally cut for, he tugged against the bars, literally on the verge of freaking out. Well, yea, duh! He was made to be free, and fast, not caged and bound. This place was his polar opposite! No way he was gonna be able to relax surrounded by stone and metal. And Brute. Locked up with Brute, of all people. THE HORROR!!!

The young'n zipped from one end of the cage to the next, feebly yanking against the bars, whilst the others converse. After about a minute or so, filled with numerous failed escape attempts, he finally hunched over, and decided to join the dialog. "Er, well, considering that quantum mechanics is possibly the most fundamental known description of all physical systems at the submicroscopic scale, being, the atomic level, which utilizes such principles as the dual wave-like and particle-like behavior of matter or radiation, and can wield probability predictions where classical physics predicts certainties, quantum phenomena can produce particularly confusing results in systems whose dimensions are close to the atomic, and molecular scales, as well as the macroscopic. And, then there's the possibility of quantum entanglement, or even the Uncertainty Principle... Oh! And, it may also explain the workings of many different biological systems...."

Having his back to the crew, he wouldn't be able to see their reactions to his encyclopedic relaying to that information, which, he only knew because he sped-read through one prior to this mission, just in case. However, he'd forgotten he even knew that info, as Cameron was the true brainiac, and not Tag. A moment or so later, and his eyes went wide, realizing how odd he sounded, and he turned to look at the two Majors, and everyone else. "Uh...I...I looked it up before we left.... but, basically, considering it was a Quantum reactor, we may be at the mercy of Quantum Physics....which preaches some pretty sci-fi shit. Like parallel universes, teleportation, time travel, and a whole lotta comic book mumbo-jumbo. If even half of its true... hell, we could just be in Thorn's mind, just a part of her dream... or, a dozen years into our own worlds future.... or, in the heart of a supermassive blackhole.... Just about anywhere...or when..."

His stomach gurgled here. "......Anywhere but a McRogers'..." He slid down to the floor, holding his gut. "Major Barrow....ya gonna eat that?" Addressing the week old balogna and gov't cheese a guard \gave him.\

[Oversoul]

Domerin seemed as snarly as Nick did as the conversation turned in the direction of quantum physics. He had been less than thrilled with this whole situation from the beginning and now his companions were going on about scientific mumbo jumbo that not only didn't make any sense, but wasn't really going to be of any use to them even if they had managed to make some sense of it. Something had happened, something very bizarre and difficult to explain. But it had already happened. Debating the science behind it wasn't going to make it go away. If experience had taught him nothing else, he had learned that you had to fix things yourself. Science wasn't going to do it for them.

Not to mention he was far more comfortable with situations that could be solved with guns than situations that required quantum physics in order to be fixed.

"Would you all, please stop talking in gibberish?!" He half hissed, half spat. He wasn't even going to consider believing that Quentin actually knew what he was talking about. He had just memorized an encyclopedia and thought it was impressive that he could recite all of that on cue. There was no way he, or anyone else for that matter, could make sense of it, because Domerin firmly believed that none of it was ever going to make any sense to anyone. Besides, Quentin had already made enough of a fool of himself without trying to make sense of all the science speak. When they'd been stuffing the kid into the back of a police car, Domerin had wished he'd had at least one hand free to lay his forehead in so that he could at least pretend he didn't know the kid for five minutes. Then again, out of the group they'd brought with them, Quentin was one of the two who hadn't ever been locked up in a terrorist prison camp, so he supposed he could be forgiven... this time.

"Nick is right. It doesn't mean anything, and even if it really does mean something - which I doubt - that meaning isn't useful to us in this situation. And maybe, just maybe," he added before anyone could argue otherwise, "there isn't anything wrong with us or the universe, maybe there's just something wrong with you!" This time he rounded on the blue haired youth who had begun the whole science conversation, annoyance flashing in his eyes. Sure he was bitter, but who wouldn't be? He had just been told that everything he knew about the universe was, for all intents and purposes, wrong. That was enough to make anyone cranky. He was probably going to feel bad about yelling at Cameron eventually too, just not at the moment.

"Maybe," He hissed, lowering his voice so that none of the nearby guards would be able to hear... not that it would really matter since they were probably already quite confident that the entire group was crazy. "The next time a mad scientist gives you a code, you'll wait for the telepath to confirm it before you just go entering it into the computer and blowing up huge chunks of British Colombia." Out of all the places in the world he'd visited, he'd been fond enough of British Colombia that he didn't think it deserved be blown off the face of the Earth.

Tempting as it was to continue taking out his frustration on the young blue haired ascendant, Domerin restrained his temper. Cameron too was new to this sort of work. The fact that having the team's telepath verify the code hadn't crossed his mind was probably just a result of the fact that he hadn't been properly trained to deal with these sorts of situations. Instead he settled for muttering, "I really need a smoke," before sweeping on to other topics, allowing Cameron to slip free of his wrath.

"And I'm sure you could get us out of here, Nick, but this isn't like all those other times. These are our people, on our soil. And as far as we know, they're just doing their jobs. Let's not start acting like the people we're usually trying to put away, shall we?" Although he had to admit, the idea of getting his cigarettes back was severely tempting.

[RoseThorn]

While the men were bickering over the finer points of Quantum Physics, a silent presence crept into their midst, wrapping invisible fingers gently around the mind of one in their midst. The only one who would notice the intrusion, however, was Major Gregory Barrow, for it was into his mind that the invisible fingers reached. A comfortably familiar presence entwined itself around his mind and then settled there. It was a feeling he had felt many times in the past, though this time it seemed slower and more sluggish than usual.

<Gregory?> A familiar voice whispered into his mind, announcing that their unconscious companion had finally awakened.

Her head hurt. There was a pounding in her temples and a throb behind her eyes, as if her heart had leapt out of her chest and jumped up into her brain. Her head felt swollen, as if her brain were trying to leak out of it to escape the pounding of her misplaced heart. But aside from the obvious fatigue in her mental voice, she sounded none the worse for ware. In fact, she was fairly confident that all she needed was a bit of rest, alot of sleep, and enough isolation from people to keep her strained mental shields from failing.

Unfortunately she was also fairly certain she wasn't going to get any of these things any time soon.

<Where are you? Is everyone alright?>

[Livewire]

Cameron shook his head slowly as he raked his fingers through his unkempt mop of blue hair in frustration - frustration over the mind-bending situation he now found himself trapped in, and not necessarily over the people he was trapped with. "That's all true, but we're getting into the part of quantum theory where physicists make stuff up to explain something they have no real explanation for. At this point, it's just as likely that a wizard showed up and took us for a ride through the aether on the back of his winged hippopotamus as us being instantaneously, or quasi-instantaneously translocated. Sure, it's all academic, but if the quantum reactor reaching critical mass and interacting with the psionic energy being emitted by the Doctor caused something out of Star Trek to happen, we're going to have to figure out how if we ever want to..."

It was at that point that Major Lorcasf cut into the conversation, demanding an end to the science talk and going on to lay the blame for all of this squarely on Cameron's lap. Flush with anger, the teenager's blood-red eyes narrowed at the officer. "How about fuck you, buddy. I'm not trained in all your fancy karate or whatever, so what do you expect, bringing me on a mission like that? Does your damn superior military make a habit of grabbing random people and putting the fate of the Pacific north-west in their hands? Son of a bitch." Now it was Cameron's turn to join Nick in sulking, casting a sullen glare around the cell as if daring anyone else to put all of this nonsense on him. Fortunately for the young ascendant, he didn't have to worry about the substance withdrawal that seemed to be slowly taking hold of the others. He didn't smoke in the first place, and if he began feeling weak from hunger at any point, he could simply stand up on the cot he was now sitting on and touch the cell's rudimentary light fixture to draw in some power. His stomach would still growl something fierce, but at least he could keep his body's fuel topped off.

[Tag]

/...."Yahtzee..."/ Tag mumbles from his little corner of the jail cell. Seemed ol' Dommy forgot not everyone was military and had to let him get the last word. Though, Tag sure as hell was, and thus made sure to whisper that as best he could. Didn't want a P.O'd Major up his ass. Still waiting on that day ol' bologna and cheese, he rose and tried to keep peace. "Oook, listen, guys, I'm not the leader, but I know no one's to blame. All that matters now is finding Ms. Thorn, getting outta here, and figuring out what went down back there...."

But....who ever listened to \Tag...?\

This post has been edited by Tag on Jun 26 2009, 02:48 PM

[Legion]

Major Barrow was already uninterested in the conversation going on in the police station's holding cell as it was, so when he felt the familiar sensation of Rose's presence anchor in his mind almost as if she had just entered the room, his attention instinctively drifted toward that and he nearly completely tuned out the discussion occurring behind him. Just as well, because that was around the point that the shouting began. I'm here, he thought in response. We're all in a holding cell near the south end of the building. Everyone seems to be okay to me, though all the kids are in a bad mood, and it's starting to get on my nerves. Greg cast a glance through the bars, focusing his attention on every detail his eyes took in of the area immediately outside the cell in order to let Rose 'see' it too. What about you? Are you alright? Where are they holding you?

It was about at this point that the commotion behind him became too much for the major to bear, and he turned around while announcing his entry into the argument with a loud sigh of frustration. "Alright, that's enough. Right now, exactly what happened back there, how it happened, and whose fault it is are all secondary concerns. The first thing we need to do is figure out a way to get Doctor de Castillo and get out of here. Another way, Friedman." Greg turned to Quentin next, and tossed his partially-eaten sandwich across the cell to him. "Here. Pace yourself on that. It's probably the only meal you're going to get for a while."

[RoseThorn]

There was a strange fluttering sensation in Gregory's mind, as if something heavy had suddenly disappeared. It would take only a few moments for the man to identify it as a silent sigh of relief, conveyed to him from the telepath who's presence still rested in his mind. She was quite relieved to discover that everyone was okay. That they had all made the journey safely from the sight of the explosion to... wherever here was. That was a puzzle she was still working on.

For the moment, she was as quick to offer reassurances to the Major as he had been to offer them to her. <I'm fine.> She said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly, but she was just as quick to add, <A little tired, a bit of a headache, but nothing I can't recover from.>

It was an understatement, of course. Her head was throbbing so painfully she wanted to give up consciousness and sink back into oblivion. Her shields were strained, sensitive to the point where her mind felt sore whenever more than three people got close to her. Every couple of minutes, she could swear she caught glimpses of bright spots hovering at the edges of her vision. But she would not give up consciousness for sweet, soft, cold sleep. She didn't care how much pain she had to fight through. It was her fault they were in this - whatever mess they were in now - and she knew she was the only one who could help them sort it out. If she let herself do nothing but slump over in a mass of human flesh while she slept off the headache, she would be nothing but a burden to her team. Besides, she had faced worse pain than this and under worse circumstances. She was strong; she simply wasn't going to let a little bit of pain slow her down.

But Gregory Barrow knew that. That's why he trusted to bring her on missions of this kind. And though she knew he would worry about her, she trusted he wouldn't challenge her wellbeing, at least not for the time being, not until they were in better circumstances than they were in now.

Still, his last question was harder to answer. <I... they're not really... holding me, not like you.> She could see clearly through his eyes as if they were her own. She took in the prison bars, the half asleep, throughly bored prison guard, Domerin and Cameron screaming at each other in the background while Nicholas sulked in one corner. The later didn't surprise her, while the former was quite disconcerting. She had never expected to see the likes of Legion and Oversoul behind bars... at least not in a normal, united states police station. This was an entirely new thing all together.

What was even more disconcerting was that it matched the strange set of circumstances in which she found herself. Certainly she had seen nothing but police and a few doctors and nurses after coming awake, but even seeing her teammates locked up didn't clear up the reason why they were here. In fact, it made it all the more confounding than it had been before. Still, she dutifully passed along the images of her own resting place once she had finished taking in Gregory's surroundings. The room that flashed in his mind was largely medical. It looked like a small infirmary and he could get the impression of Rose laying on a comfortably padded couch while a nurse or attendant of some kind went through files on a computer at a small desk on the other side of the room.

<But Gregory... I don't know where we are.> Of course she understood that they were in a prison or police station of some kind. That much was obvious, and it was clear by the way she said it that she wasn't talking about the building they were in. Still, she hastened to add, <What I mean is, something is very odd here. The... the guards, they think...> It was clear that there was something wrong, that there was something bothering her by the hesitation in her tone. Rose de Castillo was not not the type who usually minced words or beat around the bush. When she had something to say, no matter how harsh it may have been, she always came out and said it. The fact that she was obviously having trouble putting it to words meant that she was deeply bothered by whatever it was she was trying to say. Finally she managed to spit out, <They think that I am someone I am not.>

[Shiv]

Nick, for one, was glad that someone was finally making sense. Cameron's theory on the whole thing was, after all, probably about as accurate as they were about to get, and his observation that they were going to have to figure out how all this crap happened before they could make it unhappen, which, as far as Nick was concerned, was the main gaol. After getting their guns and smokes and stuff back, of course. However, then Domerin started flipping out on Cameron, and Nick could do nothing but bury his face in his hands. Oh, sure, whenever he said anything or argued with anyone, they were all like, "Whatever, Omar, you're just a kid," but whenever someone said anything that Greg or Domerin didn't understand or agree with, it was all like, "Stop the presses! The universe is gonna explode!" Normally, things like that didn't bother Nick too much, but, well, this was a different matter altogether... he was stuck in a cell without cigarettes. It made him unhappy.

Of course, when Greg said that they had to figure out a way to get out of there, Nick leaned forward, half-opening his mouth to speak, before the Major followed it up by saying they had to do it another way. Frowning slightly, he settled back against the walll. "So does anyone have any bright ideas as to how to accomplish this miraculous escape, then? 'Cause as far as I know, I'm the only one comin' up with ideas here. Granted it's all the same idea, but it's the idea that works," he said. Then, he scratched at his head, sighing slightly. "Anyway, we gotta get outta here before we can even worry about bustin' Rose out."

[Oversoul]

For Domerin it wasn't about getting in the last word. It wasn't even about laying blame at this point. For him, the whole argument was just an outlet for his frustration. Locked up like a caged animal, without even having had more than half a cigarette since they'd boarded the plane that morning hours before, snarling was the only way Domerin could release the seething froth of emotions boiling in his gut. He would have killed for a cigarette at that point. In fact he was almost starting to agree with Nick that they should just give up the pretense of being good little prisoners if it was going to get them their stuff back... more specifically their cigarettes. But Cameron saw fit to stand up for himself and that was enough to keep Domerin's attention focused on him for at least a little while longer.

He was going to feel sorry for it later. He had a bad temper and a bad reputation for letting it rule his head when he was in a non-dangerous situation and an extremely bad mood. Most people were just used to it, but in this case he was well aware of the fact that he was being unfair to Cameron, who had been dragged on this mission because he had agreed to Domerin's terms of sticking around long enough to get some training in his abilities in order to get rid of his criminal record. It wasn't like Cameron had been prepared to deal with this kind of situation, not the way Nick, who was only a little older than the blue haired young man, was. Still though...

"It doesn't take military training to have some common sense!" Domerin spat back in response to Cameron's comment. At least the young man had the good sense to stand up for himself. It would have soured Domerin's mood even further if he had just curled up in a fetal position and accepted the verbal abuse... probably because he would have started feeling guilty on top of his aggravation. It wasn't exactly a secret, but Domerin occasionally enjoyed verbal sparring. It was probably why he and Greg got along so well. They weren't afraid to tear into each other, and tended to forget about it five minutes after it ended. "Let's trust the mad scientist to tell the truth even though the team's telepath already warned us that he's up to something!" He waved his arms in the air briefly to augment his sarcasm.

When the moment had passed, Domerin crossed his arms back over his chest and snorted. "In your dreams kid. You aren't my type." But then Cameron crossed a line. A line that those close to him had long ago learned not to cross. There was one insult Domerin didn't let people through at him... though ironically he threw it around quite alot himself. "Don't you dare bring my mother into this, you-" He was about to advance in the direction of the blue haired youth when the voice of Gregory Barrow cut through the yelling. Domerin didn't let it drop because Greg told him to. Domerin didn't tend to listen to people if he didn't really want to, and in the strictest terms, Greg wasn't his boss any more, even if he was the commander of this particular mission. The mission had long since gone to hell, after all. He listened to Gregory Barrow because he respected the man.

That, and he was feeling better now that he'd been able to snarl for a few minutes. The whole argument was practically forgotten in the next moment as he sagged back against the bars of their cell and sighed. "I almost agree with the kid. At least it would get us our stuff back. I'd feel alot better with a cigarette in one hand and a gun in the other." But he was well aware of the fact that the gun wouldn't do him very much good. Who was he going to shoot? Police officers who were just doing their jobs?

"But you know, it occurs to me-"

They would never know what had occurred to the dusky skinned man, for at that moment there was a commotion in the room outside and the door banged open. A group of men filed through. Three of them were obviously from some private security company. They looked like a cross between bully-boy thugs and rent-a-cops. They were flanked by two police officers. The final man was obviously a business man. He was dressed in a rather pristine and obviously meticulously maintained grey suit with white shirt beneath and a beige coloured tie. The rent-a-thugs crossed their arms over their chests and did their best to look impressive. The police officers looked bored and exasperated respectively and the business man looked nervous. He kept shifting his weight from foot to foot. "So officers," he was saying, "I've paid the fee, is it alright for us to take him? He's got a show in an hour you see and..."

"Yeah yeah," One of the officers said, waiving vaguely in the direction of the half-asleep guard who stirred himself into wakefulness enough to start searching for the right key to their cell on his desk. "We know the drill. Just try to keep him out of trouble for awhile."

The business man fell all over himself thanking the police officers profusely and promising over and over, "He won't be any more trouble, officers, I promise."

One of the policemen snorted. "Yeah, because the tour is leaving town in three days." To which the other two policemen in the room snorted and snickered.

As the prison guard turned the key in the lock to open the cell door, the business man shuffled across the room, flanked by the rent-a-thugs who glared at the occupants of the cell. Domerin watched with an odd sort of fascination as the business man came close to the part of the cell where he was standing and peered up at him, squinting after a moment or two as if he was trying to determine something. Domerin blinked at him several times before he finally said, "Er... do I know you?"

Far from the reaction that he would have expected, the business man actually seemed relieved. He jumped back ever so slightly and breathed a soft sigh. "I see there has been a misunderstanding." He said. He seemed quite overjoyed that this was the case. "You must be the new look-alike." He turned to the rent-a-thugs and shooed them aside. For their part, the three guards appeared rather disappointed that they weren't going to get to bully anyone and they filed back to the other side of the room. "Call George." The business man said, waving insistently at one of them. "Tell him to keep looking. They'd better find him in time or we'll have a riot on our hands."

Domerin had time to glance at Greg and murmur, "What the hell?" Before the business man was back, peering up at him again and waving for him follow him out of the cell and, apparently, out of the police station all together.

"Come, come now. We'll have to hurry back. Really, sir, you must be more careful. Mr. Lorcasf is always doing these things. I have reason to believe he fired his last look alike because he couldn't catch him in his tricks any more. I'm sure it was all a big misunderstanding, but you really must be more careful, he does these things to deflect the trouble from him, you see. He's almost more trouble than he's worth..." At that point the man seemed to realize that Domerin hadn't moved anywhere. He was still standing in the cell staring at the business man like he had gone crazy. The man sighed in exasperation. "Well?! What are you waiting for?" He demanded.

"Er..." Domerin said, at a complete and total loss for a moment. What the hell was he supposed to say to this man? He didn't even have any idea what he was talking about. But it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Here was their way to get out of here without having to do it Nick's way. So he seized the opportunity quickly, before it could pass. He cleared his throat quickly, hoping it would cover his initial dazed reaction and hurried to say, "Well, you see... the way it is is... Mr. Lorcasf hired us all here." He waved at his companions in the cell. "Security is our specialty." He added, having made enough sense of the man's rambling to figure out that he was supposed to be someone's security detail body double. "We work as a team. Did you manage to bail out my associates as well? I can't go anywhere without them. Mr. Lorcasf would be mighty upset, you see, if I showed up alone and without the rest of the security detail he paid for." He shook his head as if it was a difficult spot he was in.

"Er..." The business man started but Domerin cut him off again.

"Of course we'll need our equipment back too. In all the misunderstanding going on at the time, all of our important equipment was confiscated and you really can't serve as a security detail without the proper tools of the trade."

Now it was the business man's turn to stare at Domerin. For a moment it looked as though he was going to protest, but then it seemed that his hurry won out over his sense of better judgment and he turned to hiss at the police officers, "Fine, fine, the rest of them too. Just give me the statement for the fee and let's get this over with. Their equipment, get it in the van quickly. Hurry up people, don't just stand there and look at me, we're on a deadline here!"

[Legion]

Rose's report brought only a deeper, more puzzled frown to the major's features. He was already aware that something wasn't right about all of this; there was something strange about the way some of the officers looked at Domerin and the blue-haired kid that he couldn't entirely figure out. The psychologist's experience sounded similar, and although it didn't answer any questions, at least it showed some kind of pattern forming. Alright, just sit tight for now. We'll think of some way to get out of this. At least, me and Lorcasf will. She could probably imagine what sorts of ideas headstrong youth would, or already did in Nick's case, come up with.

However, neither of the two majors had long to think before a man in a suit came to their cell, flanked by two of the police officers who had arrested them and an entourage of rent-a-thugs. Greg opened his mouth to interrupt the suit's sniveling to the cops, but his hair-trigger instincts shouted a warning when the small man suddenly turned and addressed Domerin directly, and he opted for silence instead. It turned out to be a smart move: the other soldier was quick on the draw, and with only a brief exchange managed to secure their release. Major Barrow shot a glance over his shoulder at the three younger men who occupied the cell with them and signaled for them to follow with a jerk of his head. As they passed through the open barred door, Greg didn't dare speak to Domerin at any length for fear of saying something suspicious or inappropriate. Instead, he only muttered a single word under his breath, "Rose."

[Tag]

\At this point\ for Tag, there was little to say, and only one thing to do. As he finished the stale, half-eaten balogna and....perhaps, cheese? he was instructed to ration somehow [which he utterly failed to, and consumed to quiet the nag in his belly], Dom and Cam went at it, and he just remained silent, seeing no need to draw attention to himself... not like anyone would listen to him, anyway, as they all still called him 'kid'. Soon, however, Legion ended it all and Tag sighed, secretly relieved it was over.

As the groups arresting officers reappeared amid some goons from a video game or something, and started spouting off, he furrowed his brow, and wanted to say something, but a look to Barrow stalled him from doing so. In this case, silence proved truly golden when they were released and when the Major nodded he and the others to follow, he surely did, not waiting for Brute or Livewire to take there turns. Outside the precient, when the black van appeared, the only thing on his mind...well, the only things on his mind were getting some grub, and, of course, Ms. Thorn....

Hey, maybe they were keeping her by the /cafeteria??/

[Shiv]

Nick rolled his eyes heavenward as Domerin started to respond to Cameron calling him a son of a bitch. He understood that the kid hadn't been around for too long, but him and Quentin would hopefully learn quickly not to say that to Domerin. Not to spare his feelings or anything like that, but because it would lead to the man not shutting up about it for the foreseeable future. Which could be a pain in the ass. Normally, those thoughts wouldn't even have occurred to the young Ascendant, but right now he still in a prison cell, and that made him irritable. Of course, Domerin didn't even have a chance to start in on his whole tirade before he was cut off by some people coming in. People that were opening their cell. And most of them looked large and like they thought they were tough or whatever. With a smirk, Nick stood up. Either these guys wanted to let them out, or they wanted to try and start something. Or they wanted to ask them some questions, but he was trying to think optimistically.

If he were to be perfectly honest, Nick would admit that he had absolutely no idea what Mr. Peabody over there was talking about to Domerin. However, it seemed like he should no what the guy was talking about, so he pretended like he did. Of course, Domerin's explanation that they were some kind of security detail gave him pause as he looked around. Maybe not the best excuse ever, considering Cameron really didn't look like a security guard of any sort, Quentin could maybe get away with being called "wiry", and Nick... well... Nick was five feet tall. Most people didn't believe he could beat them up until he actually did it. But then, maybe that fact just slipped the minds of his former 01 team mates, considering the fact that the first time they'd seen him, he was shooting at them with a pair of machine guns. Nevertheless, he tried to look as much like a security person as possible. He thought of saying something to expand on Domerin's explanation of "Security is our specialty", but decided, for once, to keep his mouth shut. After all, one never knew how deeply this guy would look into their back stories or whatever.