'...if this speech was meant to comfort me, this guy is in serious need of a
girlfriend...' she thought as he continued.

"...positions for “torturer” available in today’s job mark – get down! "

Just when she thought this conversation couldn't have made her any more
uncomfortable... Another guard was runnings toward them and apparently
before Maya's guide could stop him, he had turned the corner. She noticed the
red sticky mess on and around his shoulder. He was already bloodied. At first
he seemed just as surprised as Maya, but unlike Maya --he had a gun.

She flicked her wrist and with a gust his gun and gun arm flew up, pointing
toward the ceiling. The gun would have gone flying if he had not started
squeezing off rounds. The bullets ricocheted harmlessly, but loudly. 'Great,
wonderful - this won't attract attention at all.' She thought sarcastically
to herself.

"I'm sorry." She kept the gust on his gun arm, which seemed to be distracting
enough to keep him in place, and she held her hand out toward his chest.
Closing her eyes, she focused on the air in his lungs. She made it denser and
denser forcing him to exhale only until finally his eyes began to roll in his head
and he passed out from lack of oxygen. It was this or toss him and run for it,
and she didn't feel like she had enough strength for a full out run-for-your-life run.

Maya's eyes snapped open, every air anomaly stopped as she rushed forward
to catch at least his head before it fell to the ground. To her relief, she noticed
he was breathing normally again. She took his gun and offered it with a shaking
hand to... to... her head was swimming - she couldn't remember if she had
actually ever learned the name of the guard/torturer she was trusting to lead
her out of this place. She knew her body's auto-pilot was starting to take over.

"We need to go... now." She stood, stepping over the fallen man and added a "please."

Sonya/Doug watches as Cloud Girl deflects the guard’s gun-arm with a gust of wind… then winces as the sound of gunfire echoes down the hall. Clumsy… but, still, nice trick. Between that and the cloud-form she’d demonstrated earlier, Cloud Girl seems pretty formidable.

Sonya briefly contemplates borrowing “Cloud”’s body, but decides against it… for one thing, she doubts that the girl’s powers are the sort of thing she can copy; for another the girl is obviously spent and quite possibly injured, neither of which Sonya particularly wants to deal with. Still, recruiting her for the Order might be worth doing.

> “I’m sorry.”

It’s partially the apology, but mostly the gentleness of her attack on the guard, that changes Sonya’s mind. She even keeps the guy’s head from cracking against the ground! Nah… too soft for the Order. I bet she ends up at the Mansion. The irony of that observation doesn’t even occur to her. But, first things first.

She’s about to wave away the gun she’s being offered, when it occurs to her that the girl is dazed enough that arming her is probably not a great idea, so she takes it, sets the safety, and shoves it in the back of his uniform waistband.

> "We need to go... now… please."

"Well, yeah, that was the general idea. " He starts moving again, hoping they’ve seen their quota of guards already. Over his shoulder he adds "Nicely handled, by the way. Except for the whole gunfire-noise thing, natch… but it’s not like the place isn’t full of gunfire to start with. Incidentally, didn’t catch your name… I’m Doug."

"Nicely handled, by the way. ...Incidentally, didn’t catch your name… I’m Doug."

"Ghost," she mumbled in response. It seemed silly to give out pseudonyms at
this point, but now that they were moving again she wasn't feeling so
talkative. Between the gore on the floor and walls and her fatigue, she rather
felt like passing out... or throwing up. She opted for neither, relying on her
will and adrenaline to keep her body running. It somehow felt like this Doug
had let the leg-work slide to her on that last one -- especially since he had
critiqued her performance. Normally she might have said something, but
words seemed a bit complex at the moment, she was down to instinct. Maya
seemed the easily manipulatable type. Especially since she was gladly
following around a man who was an admitted torturer and former guard to her
and her fellow mutant's prison. Either it was due to her current mental state or
her trusting nature. Maya didn't care as long as the result ended with her on
the other side of the fence.

"STOP!" someone shouted from a long way down the hall, making Maya
jump in surprise. Of course they didn't wait before opening fire, but from such
a distance their aim was poor at best. Maya deftly stepped around the nearest
corner and nose to nose with a potentially dangerous situation. Orange and
yellow tongues of flame were licking the walls and corpses. Acrid bluish
smoke wafted down the hall, but it all seemed to flush out toward the other
end. That would explain why they hadn't smelled it earlier - there must have
been a vent, no, an exit somewhere at the other end of the hall.

Maya stopped abruptly. The flames weren't that high, they seemed to be the
product of a fire that had either burned very hot like an explosion or burned
for a long time. The very tips of the tongues of flame bent slightly in Maya's
direction, increasing her anxiety.

> “Ghost”

Sonya/Doug smirks. “That ain’t the luckiest name you could have chosen, girl.” Despite herself, his tone is almost paternal… something about Ghost awakens the protective in him. Or them. Geez. All the real assholes who stayed on the streets and this one gets thrown in? Stupid.

Sonya dimly remembers when she’d been on the side of the imprisoned mutants because she’d thought they were innocent. She’d been disabused of that notion pretty quickly, and the sheer amount of blood sprayed on the walls in the last hour had done nothing to change her mind. And she no longer really cares all that much about guilt and innocence, anyway. But in a weird sort of way, meeting Ghost makes her wish she still did.

> "STOP!"

Sonya ducks around the corner with Ghost, and is equally startled by the flames. Judging from the utter incompetence of the gunfire, Sonya concludes the challenger is probably a “fellow” guard. And, since their other line of retreat seems cut off by flames, that seems to make this particular obstacle her job. Remind me, again, why I got involved in this mess?

She takes a moment to indulge in a long-suffering sigh before stepping back out. “Hey, moron, take it easy with the damn ammo, willya? I work here!”

She stays close to the corner as she waits for the shooter’s reaction, muttering under her breath "I’ll deal with this one. Just hang loose and stay out of sight."

“Hey, moron, take it easy with the damn ammo, willya? I work here!”

Maya flattened herself against the wall and sliiiiiiid to a sitting position along
the cool metal floor. She would definitely take Doug's advice and let him take
care of this one. She had nothing left anyway and she could use a breather. She
stayed as close to the lip of the hallway as she dared, though. Getting near the
flames wasn't exactly on her agenda. Maya kept her legs under her, keeping a
low profile and ever ready to spring away if her legs were willing. She wasn't
going back.

The guards huffed and puffed their way closer, slapping their feet loudly on
the floor as they ran. Once they were within a polite, distrustful speaking
range, one sputtered at Doug as much as to his comrades "But I saw... but
there was..." he motioning vaguely toward the corner.

One of the three men must have seen a mutant change forms before because
he held his gun out in front of him and slowly continued his approach. "How
do we know you're really one of us?" He barked. "Just hand over the mutants.
They're dangerous, can't you see?" He motioned to the gore around them
slightly with his gun, but kept the barrel trained on Doug.

The third guard spoke quietly to the man with the gun. It seemed that he was
telling him something along the lines of 'if Doug were a mutant or hiding
mutants, they would already be dead.'

Actually, while the banter between guards was taking place, Maya gazed into
the flames. She could tell by the airflow that there was a large exit on the other
end. It just killed her that they couldn't get out, when an exit was so close.
She wasn't daring it and it seemed that Doug agreed. He hadn't turned her in
last time, and she believed that he wouldn't this time. She just had to believe. [/color]

> "How do we know you're really one of us? Just hand over the mutants. They're dangerous, can't you see?"

"You’re kidding, right? I’ve been working here since the damn place started. " S/he tries to remember the guards’ names, but under stress they don’t come to her. "I’ve been drinking coffee from the same stupid break-room you have, with the post-it note on the decaf pot that says “This really is decaf” as if anybody here actually fucking drinks decaf. I’ve been getting dirty looks from Kelly every time I run into him in the halls, like I’m personally ruining his day. I’ve been watching freaks do my laundry and cleaning up the city and now I’m watchin’ ‘em kill half the folks I work with. So if I ain’t one of ‘us’, Curly, then you damned well better start explaining who you are, ‘cuz I goddammit work here. Got that?"

She winds down from the outrage, takes a slow, casual step towards the gunman, puts Doug’s hand out. " Come on, man. You don’t want to do this. They’ve just got you seeing ghosts, is all. I don’t blame you… it’s a fucking massacre out there… but we humans gotta stick together, right?"

"...They’ve just got you seeing ghosts, is all...."

She didn't really appreciate the freak comment, but Maya couldn't help but
smile ruefully at the ghost part. It was ironic... even more so when they
bought it.

"I...." The gunman held his ground for a moment, the pain of deliberation
clearly on his face before finally believing Doug/Sonya. "I'm sorry, man. It's
just that, I mean... yeah." My! The gunman was rather articulate. He clicked
the safety on his gun and put it away. "You're right. We humans gotta stick
together or we're all dead." He gulped. "This is my detail... or what's left of it."

The third man turned his attention to Doug now that his leader was
apparently in his right mind. "Have you heard anything... I mean, we all lost
communication, but it's getting quiet..."

The first man cut the third off, much to the third man's agitation. "You think
they're retreating? Are they gonna leave us alone?"

Maya ran her fingers over her face and into her hair. She ached. She wanted to
sleep, but she was afraid that if she did, she would never wake up again. She
really needed a hug and some food, but she doubted any of those were on this
planet anymore. Everything that was left was gore, flames, and violence... and
none of those were edible. 'They should have just left us alone,' she
thought, running her fingers through her hair, trying to get a grip on herself.
Her eyes had locked on a single piece of flesh in the flames. Her brain just
couldn't make sense of it. It's shape looked wrong somehow. 'None of this
would have happened if they had just... if we could just leave each other alone.'

She turned her face slowly from the fire and watched the corner for Doug's
return. Her eyes were just a little too wide, a little too wet. She had mussed
her hair, not that it ever really lay flat. Her face was beaded in sweat and bits
of grime. She looked harrowed, harassed, haunted. She wanted to run and run
and run and never look back, but her only exit lay through flames while the
men had a chit-chat. She didn't think she'd make it very far anyway. Not on
her own.

Sonya breathes a quiet sigh of relief when the gunman stands down, and hopes Maya stays out of sight. This is all taking way longer than she’d anticipated, but at least she knows she’s doing something useful… this corridor has got to be kept clear for stragglers.

Granted, in one of her standard forms she could just take out all three guards, which would be faster… but that would reveal those forms to Ghost, which he’d rather not do. So we do this the slow way.

> "Have you heard anything... I mean, we all lost communication, but it's getting quiet –“
> “You think they're retreating? Are they gonna leave us alone?"

Are we going to leave them alone? The question is absurd, but this is hardly the time for Sonya to raise an issue about it.

She shrugs Doug’s shoulders, figuring that seeming too knowledgeable would seem suspicious. "Dunno. What I do know is they ain’t busting out from inside – just before everything shut down there were f--king tanks blowing down the outside wall. So it’s either a breakin, or a breakout… and if they were breakin in, we’d be neck-deep in ‘em by now, right? So yeah, I think they’re running."

She points back towards the central command-post. "Anyway, Kelly’s coordinating the defense… they authorized some new weapons that can really do some damage to these freaks," she adds, indicating the anti-Stalker rifle Doug is carrying. "You wanna go around through cell block D and F, though… there’s some kinda fire blocking the main route. " A lie, but she figures the faint smell of smoke attached to her clothes will make it more convincing.

" Once you get the new-issue weapons, he’ll put you out on the new perimeter. I figure there’s no way to stop ‘em from gettin’ out – outer perimeter is way, way down – but we can sure as hell keep ‘em from getting further in, right?"

The three men ogled the weapon Doug held. New weapons meant that maybe,
just maybe they could blast 'em back for all the blasting they took. The lust for
revenge was clear on their faces. "Thanks man." They cheered Doug on in his
shooting of muties and took their leave whooping as they took Doug's route.

Maya waited for the sound of the good ol' boys to fade before she stood again.
They were getting rather good at avoiding conflict. She let out a very soft, low
and long sigh. Break time was over. She ran her shaking fingers through her hair
one last time.

Sonya/Doug watches carefully as the three gun-happy guards take the long way back to central base, then breathes a sigh of relief. OK. I’m gonna get this Cloud girl to the exit point and switching to Teresa… next guard who points a gun at me gets it shoved in his mouth rectally.

"OK, hon. Coast is clear, but we gotta move." He stays several meters ahead of her until he can see daylight, then stops. "OK… I’m figuring anybody out there spots me, they’ll shoot/spit/fire/freeze/whatever first and as questions never… this uniform ain’t exactly popular among your people. Not that I blame ‘em, you understand." He waves her towards the courtyard, fairly confident that there are no guards in range of the Resistance’s weapons, and heads back into the facility.

A few steps in he turns over his shoulder and adds "Oh, and if you run into a funky-eyed black lady named Neena, tell ‘er Doug says hi…"

Maya nodded at Doug's last comment. It was exactly what she needed -
someone to look for. Now there was some hope that she wouldn't come
out of this with nothing and no one and no where to go.

"Doug." She stopped him before he left-- she wasn't exactly the best at
heart-warming goodbye kind of moments. "Don't get yourself killed
by a freak, okay?" She folded her arms over her aching stomach, and
then stepped out into the real war zone.

((OOC: Continuing on to the exit thread.))

> "Doug. Don't get yourself killed by a freak, okay?"

Sonya has become accustomed to the experience of her templates trying to fight her control, over the past few months. It used to be scary. Now, it's more like taking an unruly dog for a walk... sure, it _might_ pull the leash out of your hand at an unexpected moment, but really, the odds are firmly in your favor if you don't freak out.

This is different. It's more like _she's_ the one trying to take control.

Which is ridiculous, of course. She's already _in_ control. Has been all along. Doug has long since been relegated to a copilot role. And who else is there?

Still, the feeling is there, and the almost incoherent sense that, had things turned out differently, things would have been... different.

Which is, also, absurd.

Still, there's an unaccustomed softness in Doug's voice as Sonya calls back, probably too softly to be heard over the gunfire. "Yeah. You, neither."

It's the last word anyone will ever hear coming out of Doug's mouth. She folds his uniform neatly, throwing each piece of clothing into the fire as it comes off, looking thoughtfully into the flames before his body melts and reforms as Teresa's, and the shorts he wore under his uniform flow into a familiar black bodysuit.

She picks up the pulse-rifle and sniffs the air. Back in this body, she can smell the sweet aroma of charred flesh intermingling with the chemical stink of busted gas lines, and decides it's time for a quiet retreat before the whole place goes up in flames.

And inside her own mind, she gives Doug a little push into oblivion. She's gotten better at that lately. And the truth is, he doesn't seem to mind.

(( End Thread ))