(( OOC: Side-thread to the main ground-force thread. Open to anyone but restricted to three people total including me, first-post-first-served. ))

Sonya/Doug scans the corridors carefully as she moves through them, both to find stragglers and avoid ambushes.

With just the slightest bit of luck, the bulk of the newly mobile inmates are already lining up and moving out into the yard as they’d been told to, through the (relatively) safe zones the Resistance ground forces are setting up, loading into the vehicles about to extract them.

But no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy; even she knows that much. There will probably be stragglers – inmates too disoriented to follow directions or too suspicious to trust their rescuers; guards clever or lucky enough to interfere with an orderly escape; people on both sides too hot-headed to settle for a clean, simple escape operation when they can screw things up by unnecessary violence.

Which is why she, and those like her, are flanking the planned escape routes, looking for stragglers and unexpected human resistance.

Onyx was making a run for it, she had punched two guards uncnsious as of yet and sheild herself twice from incoming punshes. She was feeling rather good, using her powers to battle for the first time in all those years since she had accidentally scared away one of her many foster families. She stopped for breath about two minutes after her last sheild as it had tooken a lot of energy out of her. Now if only she could find a good place to calm down and gather her breath.

She arrived about five minutes later, somewhere unknown. Everywhere in the Camps were unknown to her but this place was the most odd and yet she had no idea where she was. Suddenly though she found someone vaguely familiar. Although Onyx had no idea, it was Sonya, a girl that had called her a kid not so long ago. ''You!'' she said rather threateningly. ''Sorry, I mean, your that person who called me a kid.'' she said.

((OOC: I hope you don't mind me joinning, I also apologize for the lack of grammar and spelling. I'm rather tired right now.))

(( OOC: Welcome!
Quick intro to Sonya – she’s a shapeshifter who rarely, if ever, uses her own name and face. Right now (and in the “training” thread where you met her) she’s using the identity of “Doug”, a middle-aged male guard.
So the name “Sonya” and the fact that she’s really a mutant girl is something Onyx oughtn’t know; as far as Onyx knows it’s Doug, a renegade mutant-assisting human guard.
I know, it’s confusing. Sorry.
No need to edit the old post, just keep aware of it moving forward.))

> ''You!''

Sonya/Doug whirls at the threatening voice, ducking to one side and bringing her pulse-rifle to bear before recognizing the emo girl from Sara and Neena’s training session a few days ago. After a tentative second, it becomes clear that Doug is not about to be attacked, and she points the rifle up at the roof, away from the mutant girl.

> ''Sorry, I mean, you’re that person who called me a kid.''

That earns a chuckle. "Yeah, ‘xcept I’m guessing I ain’t the first. Or the last, come to that. Name’s Doug. What the hell are you doing all the way down here, kid? The fast train to The Hell Outta Here is thataway…"

Onyx glared at Doug, she hated when people talked to her like she was some kind of young twrip who knew nothing and that was just what 'Doug', had done. ''I know that, I could easily ask you the same thing though, anyway, call me Onyx, instead of kid, as i'm perfectly well, not a kid.'' she said cooly.

''Oh, and to answer your question, I got myself rather lost as I was escaping a bunch of Guards trying to tackle me down.'' she said half lying. Guards weren't tackling her down and she wasn't escaping them, she had just bumpted into some as she was trying to find the place where every captured Mutant were ecaping.

> “I know that, I could easily ask you the same thing though,
> anyway, call me Onyx, instead of kid, as I'm perfectly well, not a kid.''

Touchy, touchy! Sonya thinks privately. Admittedly, now that she has a chance to inspect Onyx more carefully, she realizes that the emo girl is about her own age, albeit unusually small. (Sonya’s age, that is, not Doug’s. (She wonders how old Doug is, and his birthdate – November 18th, 1972 – floats up in her memory. 35, then. (She squelches the associated thought that he’d died within weeks of his 35th birthday before Doug can pick up on it, as she’s pretty sure the Doug in her head doesn’t know he’s dead in real life. (Not that it makes that much difference, really… he’s gotten pretty firmly settled up in there by this point, and doesn’t make trouble… but she can’t afford the distraction right now.) She’s getting better at controlling what her templates are aware of, which comes in handy sometimes.) A fine age.) Though sometimes Sonya feels like she’s aged decades since she first moved into this body.)

And, she’s woolgathering besides. Dangerous habit, that.

"Got it. Onyx it is, then."

> ''Oh, and to answer your question, I got myself rather lost as I
> was escaping a bunch of Guards trying to tackle me down.''

It takes an effort of will to avoid laughing at the girl, but Sonya/Doug manages to nod seriously at Onyx’s reply. "Fair enough. This way, then…" she waves to Onyx to follow her as she turns back towards the stairs that lead to the inmate recovery point, "let’s get you loaded back on the underground railroad, shall we?"

"Hey!... HEY!" She banged on the door. She could hear people running about
outside her door. If it was escape time, she wanted out!

She had been lucky. She knew it to be true, but nothing felt lucky about this
fate. Maya had been placed in a room on her own. Well, maybe it was more
like a closet, but it was a single unit with a mattress. The room was sealed,
though not air tight, and the shaking and rumbling outside certainly gave her
hope - it was a matter of getting the heck out of here without getting the heck
shocked out of her. She may have been in solitary confinement, but there was
no way to keep her entirely separated -- and she had heard whispers of escape
and revenge. She wasn't big on revenge; being a "volunteer," her stay had been
just about miserable. That meant that non-volunteers probably had it a million
times worse. At times she had wondered if her father had put in a good word,
to keep her on the better side of things. At other times, she wondered if it was
her father who had so graciously volunteered her. Either way, now seemed like
her chance.

First things first: Maya relaxed, letting her very essence become looser...
lighter. She felt the metal pass harmlessly through her wrists as the shock
bracelets fell harmlessly to the ground. That really explained the cries of agony
she heard from what she assumed was the direction of outside. She sighed
looking at the door. She really hated this part, but it was better than taking the
vents and definitely better than staying. She knelt on the floor and stuck her
fingers underneath the largest crack. Her body slid like smoke onto the other
side, and it was entirely disorienting.

To any passers by, ((OOC: *cough, cough, hint, hint*)) it may look like
smoke, or a grayish gas of some kind pouring out from beneath the door. The
smoke reassembled itself into a semi-solid looking form that was holding its
head. It would only take her a moment to get her bearings again.

The smoke pouring out from under one of the doors didn't phase Sonya/Doug... no doubt someone had set fire to something, either intentionally or otherwise. With all the screaming and shooting and whatnot going on, it would be surprising if that hadn't happened.

On the other hand, when it coalesces into the form of a young girl in the middle of the hallway, she has to rethink her whole interpretation. On the whole, the second interpretation is a better one.

"Hey. That's a nice trick... if you can keep it up all the way out to the pickup site, that's probably your safest bet. If not, come on anyway... you try and stay down, I'll try and keep you covered."

(( OOC: just in case this isn't clear; sonya is a shapeshifter, currently in the form of a guard, Doug. ))

"!" Ghost shot to her feet. She had not expected to meet someone... friendly--
especially one of the guards. She cleared her throat, "I can keep it up." She was a
little wary of this person, but she had a trusting nature and she so very wanted to
trust someone after so long.

"Don't bother covering me - it'll go right through me anyway." She paused letting
the guard take the lead. "Uhm... so which way is out?" It was apparent that she
hadn't been out of that room in quite some time.

Sonya/Doug points to the same staircase she was leading Onyx to earlier. "Up those, straight across, then... hm. In your case, I guess just keep going straight. Don't let the walls slow you down."

"...right..." she made a motion to go that direction, but apparently she hadn't fully
re-oriented herself. If she had been solid her impact with the ground would have
hurt, instead her form seemed to go to smoke where her hands' molecules were
dispersed by her sudden rush at the solid stairs. It had been a very long time since
she had used her power. It was like standing up with your legs all tingly after
sitting too long. She refocused herself, feeling her skin and clothes again. She
looked at her hands, now fully solid again as they gripped the edge of the stairs.
Was this was what she had been reduced to? She didn't want to go alone- she had
no where to go to after all this had ended.

"Maybe... we should stick together..." she breathed, a bit embarrassed at her fate.

Sonya watches as the girl solidifies, apparently unintentionally, and stumbles.

"Yeah… don’t sweat it. Between the crap in your food and those damned shock-bracelets, most of the inmates are having trouble getting their mutations running smooth again. Temporary." He heads to the stairs, taking point. “Follow me, keep your head down. Coast _should_ be clear between here and the pickup point, but counting on “should”s is a great way to get yourself killed, right?
”

"Yeah… don’t sweat it. Between the crap in your food and those damned shock-bracelets, most of the inmates are having trouble getting their mutations running smooth again. Temporary."

"In the food, hmm?" She watched him take the lead. Maya smiled ruefully at
the mention of food. She had sort-of been in the middle of a peaceful
resistance. If she had known that she would need her strength to escape, she
probably would have eaten... or rather complied in a way that would have
allowed her to get food. Running for your life was rather taxing when running
on empty.

“Follow me, keep your head down. Coast _should_ be clear between here and the pickup point, but counting on “should”s is a great way to get yourself killed, right?"

"I'm sure there are plenty of wonderful ways to die." She commented as she
pushed herself to her feet again. "I'd just rather not do it here."

She figured she had a few good pushes of air left in her. If it looked like there
were guards, she would rather knock them back on their bums than have them
shoot others or get shot or... whatever worse punishments other mutants were
handing out. Maya crouched, dutifully keeping her head low. "Ready when
you are."

> "I'm sure there are plenty of wonderful ways to die. I'd just rather not do it here."

Sonya/Doug smiles grimly. "Let’s see what we can do about ensuring that, then." She makes her way slowly up the stairs, keeping her ears peeled for movement, and regretting not having done this run in her regular form, which is a hell of a lot faster and stronger and has better senses besides.

Consequently, she doesn’t notice the lone guard running down the corridor until they’re practically in sight of each other. On the plus side, the guard is running so furiously he doesn’t seem to notice Doug either, until they’re both facing each other. “What the hell are you doing?!?” pants the new, out-of-breath arrival. “They’re all out there! They’re slaughtering us! We’ve gotta fall back!”

Sonya shakes his head and gestures with the pulse rifle. "Nah, we’re reestablishing a perimeter. Better weapons." It occurs to Sonya that if the guard keeps going the direction he was, he’ll go down the stairs and see cloud-girl. Which probably isn’t a great thing, so she points in another direction. "Head down that way… they’ve set up a defense point and are distributing weapons."

"Head down that way… they’ve set up a defense point and are distributing weapons."

Maya wondered exactly who was getting played for a fool here, herself or the
other guy. She sincerely hoped it was the other guy. Once she heard the rapid
footfalls were far enough away, she rounded the corner slowly.

"I hate to sound ungrateful," She breathed in a soft voice, "but who's side are
you on, exactly?

> "I hate to sound ungrateful, but whose side are you on, exactly?

Sonya/Doug grins at the question as they trot down a corridor. "My own, mostly. The State of New York pays me a salary to treat you guys like shit – or, well, I guess I should say “paid me”, since I’m guessing this probably counts as being let go…" it’s unclear from his gesture whether he means the chaos going on around them, or his defection, or what, "…but that really wasn’t working for me as a career plan, you know? Even with our foreign policy being what it is, there just aren’t that many executive-track positions for “torturer” available in today’s job mark – get down! "

Another guard runs toward them, fleeing from the massacre ahead of them, blood pouring from a nasty-looking gash in his shoulder. Unlike the first one, though, he isn’t stopping to talk or listening to anything about non-existent command points, he’s just fleeing. Which, unfortunately, leads the guard right around the corner past Sonya, to where Maya is hiding.

Sonya could trip him up, she supposes. Or shoot him. But she’s actually curious to see what the cloud-girl is capable of, so she does neither.