Still in the twilight of sleep and waking Avello slept peacefully, it was a peace he hadn’t know for the better part of a year since he turned twelve, and his brethren raged there, not a moments peace. He was comfortable, his mind was quiet, relaxed. Something was wrong!
Avello flung himself hard against the harness that wasn’t there but should have been. Slamming into the wall of a bedroom that he didn’t recognize was jarring, What was going on .

“Guys? What’s going on?” as if speaking out loud was ever necessary to access the voices in his head. His hands roamed the wall as he made his way to the outline of the door. What were these sick freaks up to now? putting him in a room, no harness, no one watching him with a taser at the ready? This was a test, or a trap…

Finding a light switch he looked in the well lived in room behind him, oversized clothes of a beastly figure left on the floor. About the size of the pajama pants that were around his legs. He reached down tugging at the fabric at his ankles and ripped the pants there to free his feet. He then spotted a pair of shades and a wallet, shoving the wallet in his pocket and the shades on his face. He was determined to find out what was going on here.
---

“What the *******” Jupiter sprung to his feet. His feet. Not Demanded that Avello wake up to get to his feet. He had his own feet. He stumbled forward not quite used to the sensation. Liqour bottles were everywhere. Oh god… he’d been drinkinging. His eyes frantically looked for somewhere to vomit. His eyes fell on a small bathroom and he rushed to the toilet bowl. The Vodka exploded from his lips as his stomach churned.
---

Mercury rolled out of bed. Wiped his and blew his nose. “Huh. It finally happened.” How many times had he thought he should be the one in charge of this body of theirs? And now he was in charge…what did he do to the others to get them to be so quiet? Oh well. But wait where were they? This wasn’t the lab? Maybe mom and dad finally came to their senses? Good. “Mom, Dad? Alli?Sissy?” Mercury called tentatively . Moving into the long sterile looking hallway, but this definitely wasn’t the labs. “Anybody!?!”
---

Venus woke with a tired stretch and a yawn. Disorienting was the word, he hadn’t every felt quite like this when exploring the sensations that Avello felt upon waking. Then it dawned on him this was his body. His naked body, his crimson eyes opened to find several limbs sprawled about him. “ what is going on?!” He jumped out of his bed to the shock of several female voices. A particularly Voluptuous blonde rubbed at her eyes not sure why Venus wasn’t as huge as he was went they went to sleep, he was still taller than her but his features seemed boyish now. Her chest fully bare. “Is everything ok Venus?” His shocked face at the bed before him with the three women and the two men it contained. “Who are you people, why are you naked, why am I naked and what did you do to me? Where am I?” He grabbed a pair of boxers on the ground and a pair of pants and put them on, they fit well enough. He shot out of the room. “I need an adult!” he shouted into the hallway as he ran.
---


Mars sat up from the bed at the behest of an alarm clock. He was in his own body, excellent. Perhaps, the labs had figured out how to free them from their imbecile brothers brain. He wanted to see the work they had done to accomplish this. He calmly walked to the door, turned on the light and looked for something appropriate to wear. He would get to the bottom of this, then he heard them in the hall way, Venus shouting for an adult, Mercury calling for anyone. Was that Jupiter vomiting in the next room and cursing. Most likely. Neptune was even questioning things in his ever lost voice, he was just that without them, though he couldn’t blame him, he was the one to take the physical abuse; they would right that soon enough. That left Saturn and Pluto, why weren’t they making a racket?
---
Saturn walked into the hallway the same time Mars did. “What is going on out here?” He froze in his step as a much too young Venus came running out of his room screaming about naked perverts trying to do things to him, Abyss and Mercury looked confused and Jupiter just vomited into the hallway, Mars was squinting at him with distrust all of them were tiny looking like baby faced versions of him if he dropped a couple hundred pounds and lost their facial hair. “Mars, what happened to you guys?”

Mars glared back. “that is exactly what I’d like to know.” Even as Venus instinctively ran behind his back and pointed towards his room, there are naked people in there.” Saturn’s eyes went wide not knowing who this kid was, but he certainly didn’t used to be Venus. Satuurn looked at Mars, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I want to know what the labs did to us? How they created our bodies, and why you got an older version, why didn’t they give that body to me, I would bput it to better use than sulky Saturn.

“Hey! Brainiac watch yourself. We haven’t been in the labs in about six years. We broke out. are you having amnesia or something. Or does this have to do with you and your kid body?”

The blonde peeked out of the bedroom. “ I don’t know what’s going on with him? is this some kind of sick joke?” Saturn not wanting to deal with the situation shook his head,

“Don’t give me that, you creepy pedophiles better get out of here. Now.” the last stated with an edge to convince her. She and the other four people from the room were quickly putting on clothes and scramble down the hallway to escape what was previously a really interesting night.

“Wait you guys don’t know whats going on? Oh god. Pluto… Get dressed, we are going to get our brother. hopefully this skipped him.."

A hand reached out from under the mess of sheets, pawing across the mattress. It hit the headboard and took a left; found the edge of the bed, and dangled down in its brave quest. It found something metal, something leather, something carpet, something sock. Disappointed, it slunk back under the sheets. A baby blue eye emerged, squinting blearily in the sunlight that so cheerfully filtering through the window.

Where was his pillow?

The eye disappeared: the lump under the tangles scooted, rotated, and curled up more tightly. Twitched. Twitched, twitched. The eye reemerged, this time with a bed-mussed swath of dark brown hair.

...Metal? Leather?

Caleb peered over the edge of the bed, and found the sword.

Lory I love you I take back everything I ever said best sister ever.

His thirteenth birthday wasn't even until next month. Good to see he'd finally trained her: there was no use hiding presents from Caleb Swartz, Master of Teh Sneak. His hands pounced the thing, pulling it a few inches out of its scabbard. Was it sharp? Really? That was such a safety hazard. A glorious, glorious safety hazard. Mom was going to take it away until he turned thirty, but for this one morning, he had a sword. It had sort of a pansy I-love-you rose theme to it, but that did not invalidate the point: sword. He had one. Hecks to the yeah.

"Lory! I love you!" He bellowed, officially rolling out of bed. Gah, it was kind of cold, outside of his cocoon. Who had left the window cracked open like that? Why would you leave a window cracked open like that? Winter was for heaters: summer was for air conditioners. In no season were windows needed, nor the cracking open thereof.

...Why would his window look out on a gently rolling estate lawn?

"Lory?" Caleb called again, somewhat less loudly.

His bare feet padded over the carpet. Outside the window there was lawn, lawn, tennis court, hedge maze, tall wall.

Tall wall?

...Hedge maze?

The room was pretty bare: definitely didn't look like someone actually lived here. Dresser and closet were mostly, except for a suit, and a few mismatched clothing items. Different sizes, different styles. They looked like they'd come from different people. Like he wasn't the first person to wake up in this room, but no one had stayed for very long.

A slight shiver ran up Caleb's spine. Because of the window; there was a draft. Maybe he should close—

No. No, there was a rather nice tree outside, and he was pretty sure he could get into its branches from here. From there to the ground would be easy; from the ground to the wall and the wall to the street and the street to a 911 operator might be harder. There wasn't much by way of cover out there. It was okay: he had a sword. Caleb hefted the scabbard of the rose blade bravely.

Yeah. So. He'd call the window 'Plan B.' Plan A... was probably one of those two doors.

Door Number One proved to be the bathroom. Not really sinister; just... bathroomy. Sort of white and shinning, really. He caught sight of himself in the mirror—he was drowning in a daffy duck t-shirt, and wearing a pair of rainbow boxers. Neither of these had been in his wardrobe last night, but he didn't stop to think about that. His hand rose to his neck. In the mirror, baby blue eyes looked a lot less cool and composed than his own no doubt did.

He, ah. He had a tattoo. A very large, very black, very obvious tattoo.

"Dad is going to kill me."

No. No no no, that was not the way to think about things.

"The kidnappers did it," he rephrased. The kidnappers did it, the kidnappers did it, he rehearsed in his head, the kidnappers did it, but you should let me keep it, as a reminder not to talk to strangers. Lesson learned, right?

He had a sword and a dragon tattoo. If he could just slink his way on out of here, he'd be the coolest seventh grader in New Jersey. Not that the bar was very high, but still.

Caleb backed out of the bathroom, and tested the knob of Door Number Two. To his surprise, it actually turned.

Worst kidnappers ever. If he did run into them, he might need to give them some tips.

((ooc: Exit to the Mansion thread, A Little Challenge.))

In his wildest dreams, he was the star. It was him. But then the big man came along. Stole the ball. Dribbled. Dunked it high in the hoop.

It was unreal. That height. That jump. He wished he could sink shots like that.

Maybe some day in the future he'd get the chops to play professional basketball. Maybe his dad wouldn't blow a gasket and shout at him for thinking it.

"Oh no. Not again..." A woman's voice said.

He was still sleeping. He sort of ignored that. Ignored the sound of movement in the room around him, the shifting of sheets, zipping of jeans. Ignored the slam of the door.

In his dream now, he was arguing. Not again. More yelling. Oh boy. Millitary school? Was that really it? His future? Whatever.

Maybe he'd go back to dreaming about good stuff now. Ash dismissed the old man with a wave of a finger and a rude 'good bye'. It was supermodel time for him. In came the big-busted broads. Then he woke up.

"... Dammit." Why did he always have to wake up just when the dreams got good?

Ashton rolled out of bed. He rubbed at his eyes.

This Ashton was different than the usual Ashton one might have encountered in this room. Younger. More disheveled. Groggy. Being 12 did that to a guy. Too young to know the joys of waking up early on next to no sleep. Too young to really understand the power of a nap.

He opened the medicine cabinet and found some aspirin. Found a glass of water. Downed some. Had a headache. Looked at himself in the mirror on shutting the cabinet door. Looked at that mussed brown hair. A strand hung down over his eyes. He needed a haircut. The kid blew the strand up and away with a sigh. What he wouldn't give to be a bit older and with looks. Then every girl within a ten mile radius would be on him like red on a sportscar. Like flies on dung.

'Forget 10 miles,' he stretched his arms. 'Make it 100.' And then he wouldn't have to work so hard to impress the ladies, day-to-day. Not that he had to work, mind you... he was simply that impressive. But still.

Hey. Ashton stared. "This isn't my room..." The hell?! He turned to look over his shoulder. "Moooooooom!"

Nobody came.

Okay. He'd been kidnapped. Man, this was crap. Why did they always kidnap the good-looking kids? Who was his kidnapper? Here was hoping it was a dame with good looks.

Not like he was waiting around for that. The likelihood was low. He'd seen enough cop shows to trust his gut on that. Whoever had kidnapped him would be back soon, and he wouldn't be waiting there for them to bother. He'd be gone.

... just as soon as he found something that fit better than whatever the hell kind of nothing he was wearing. He hadn't even realized he wasn't wearing a shirt.

A few minutes later, the 12-year old walked out the door in a leather jacket that was too big for him, rolled up belted jeans, and a big black shirt with AC DC's symbol on it. He had no idea where he was going, but it seemed best to state 'anywhere but here.'

(( Continued in Anywhere But Here ))

It was unseasonably cold in his room. Why was it so cold? Cafas rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. He kept them closed though, no point waking up if you didn't have to. What was that sound? A bird of some sort? He hadn't heard that one before. And why was it so quiet? That alone was odd, no traffic sounds, well, not the usual amount. If he was perfectly honest, it was all a little strange. He reached for his bedside table, missed, reached again, missed again.

Where is that?

He opened confused eyes onto a world with a strange light, coming from the correct direction, and it was clearly later than his mother normally let him sleep in. The ceiling was wrong. He sat bolt upright, and realised he was not in his room. The window was wrong, the bed was wrong, they colour was wrong, it was just all wrong! Even the picture on the bedside table was wrong.

Crikey that girl looks like she might be Sophie's sister.

Feet hit the carpet, the wrong carpet, and stumbled about. He was NOT at home. And those boxers were far too large! Maybe his mother could explain it? First though, he needed better clothes. Why was there another bed in his room? Never mind. Everything in the stuff on his side was far too large, it seemed like it belonged to someone his Dad's size, but his Dad never would have worn something like that.

Where am I?

He pulled out a shirt and what seemed to be shorts, with a draw string. He pulled the cord tight, found a shirt that made it nearly to his knees. These were not a twelve year old's clothes. He turned back to the bed he had woken up on. Leaning on the foot of it was by far the coolest thing he'd ever seen. It was a sword, and he wanted it.

Maybe I'll need it.

He grabbed it. it was heavy. He didn't know where to carry it. He used a belt with holes all the way down it to hold it on, the tip of the sheath dragged on the ground nicely. He considered checking the other bed, but what if that was someone who had done this to him? No! The less than muscled twelve year old made for the door, complete with bed hair and a frame that looked ridiculous with a sword strapped to it. He was going to find his mum!

Seyta's thread continues here: thread

sorry fro the late post >_<