LOG IS INCOMPLETE DUE TO TIME RESTRICTIONS. Will be continued at a later date, and I'll update this accordingly.
A purple and blue egg with a Roaring hydra emblazoned on it sits locked into the chair. Isnt this just what many a Rocket has dreamed of doing? Having a Hydra member at their mercy. Pity this ones just an Egg.
Prize Number 601
TRHQ - Torture Room
Welcome to the torture chamber, you poor, misbegotten soul. A curved ramp leads down from the prison into this room. At its basics, it's stark. The floor is made of concrete, painted black, and the walls and ceiling of equally black tiles and grout. Bloodstains don't show that way. The room is surprisingly brightly lit with several flourescent lights, each covered with a protective plastic sheeting to make splatters easy to clean.
The centerpiece of the room is a large, heavy table; black as well. The table is large enough to easily hold even a morph of Onix proportions, armed with electromagnetic clamps that fold away into the table's surface when not in use. Various other racks are lined up along the walls, and in between are hooks from which hang several odd, dangerous looking instruments. Doors are hidden in the walls as well, each opening to reveal more armament, and one hiding the panelling to control the table's various features. Have fun.
Nehru was not field-trained with bleach, mops, and like, and yet here he was, push-brooming dust of a crusty nature around into a big pile in the corner to be picked up later. He had never actually been in the torture chambers before (thank goodness he was a nice, obedient little code monkey), but they were not terribly different than what he thought they would be like. The black color was to be expected, the austere layout typical for a Rocket enterprise, and the silence atmospherically proper. He wanted badly to be doing something with a keyboard and a monitor, but the rotation landed on him for the day, and so the Abra was down here. Just a Morph and his thoughts...
Fur shaven, mane lopped off, face bruised and stitched, and his whole body wrapped in copious lengths of bandage--Shaw looks as if he could've just recently emerged from this sinister chamber. That or he's the victim of some unfortunate accident; it's hard to say, and the Absol's not talking. Shaw pauses before entering. He presses his palm to the door--it's cold and dirty and reeks of blood and horror. A cold shiver passes through the Absol and he inhales deeply, trying to calm his nervously beating heart. It's only for a minute, Shaw tells himself. The torture, horrific as it was...hadn't been the worst of it...but it's the only thing Shaw knows how to begin getting over. Exposing himself to his fears should actually bring him close to recovery, if all goes well. If not, if it's still too soon, if the place contains any strong traumatic trigger...he could easily collapse again into a shuddering, weeping, utterly pathetic wreck. Which is why he'd come descended to this foul pit alone. One last moment to steel himself, and Shaw swings open the door.
The Absol's ears flick back with surprise and displeasure. "Nehru," he observes aloud. Why on earth is he down here? Oh, right--janitor duty. Ordinarily Shaw would feel bad for Nehru, but he's too absorbed in his own misery to sympathize with such a mild fate. At any rate, this is an uncomfortable surprise. This is the first time Shaw's been back to the base since he'd gone on leave, and since his...injury. Shaw barely manages to force a smile, then performs a visual sweep of the dim room, looking for any other signs of life.
Poor Shaw; this torture room is about to get crowded. You know what they say about trios. Shortly after the walking mummy of an Absol surveys his unpleasant surroundings, Sho slips into the room, stepping lightly to avoid his heavy boots clomp-clomp-clomping in the quiet of the holding area, and now, the torture chamber. It's obvious the zaplion finds this place distasteful - with his lips set in a straight line, whiskers splayed, and tail raised and twitching. But, he might as well start his hunt at the bottom and work up. "Slabs of Ham, Celery and Radish, Tons of Asparagus," he mutters under his breath, halting just inside the room. Seems he's got company! Gold eyes flick from Nehru to the bandaged - oh! "Hello Shaw."
Tallos is now participating in a Tiny Plot (TP).
The trio is about to become a quartet, as not long after the doom dog and the zap cat enter the room, the massive round form of a rock turtle slowly comes wandering in after them. As soon as he enters, the coldness, dampness, and foul potpourri of blood, flesh, and death all bombard the his overly sensitive psyche like a sledgehammer, and his eyes glaze over as he starts to openly wimper. As he enters, one could see that he's towing a mopping kit and janitorial cart behind him. Nehru wasn't the only code monkey who was being forced away from their keyboard today, and Tallos didn't like it anymore than he did. The Golem-Morph looked around the room for a moment, noting each individual in turn, and automatically recognizing and approaching the only one he recognized, speaking to him in a slightly whiny but still friendly tone.
"Oh, hello, Nehru...yes, hello, greetings, Nehru. I don't like this place...this place has foul smells...smells that are bad, foul...I'm supposed to help make those smells go away...are you too?"
The rock type then turned away from Nehru before waiting for an answer, and grabbed a can of lemon scented air freshener from the janitorial cart and proceeded to start to vigorously spray it all around the room, with no clear idea what he was doing. Why would they put programmers like him and Nehru to work doing stuff like this? Maybe they weren't as good as the porygon-morphs?
Nehru had just finished shunting another small heap of... 'dust' into a pile when who else but Shaw walked d- Holey moley. When he turned to look at his friend, he saw nothing but a jolting image of a badly injured, fairly well treated Absol-morph. He didn't look good at -all-, what with the notable lack of hair and the bandages covering copious injuries. He opens his mouth to greet him, but simply returns the forced smile and waves as he gets back to his work. *Don't say anything about it. Does Henrik even know? Oh, lord...*
Just in time to interrupt his next broom-push, a Luxio comes down. An inspector? Naw. Nobody special. Oh, it's that Sho guy. He had been prying around everywhere for 'eggs' or something. As long as he didn't get in the way...
Last, but not least, Tallos. A 'Pretty Cool Guy' amongst the coders, the lot of which had been put to work doing manual labor, he had been waiting for another one of his own to show up and help. The place smelled God-awful, and it probably was exponentially worse for the poor boulder. Only the power of copious amounts of bleach and teamwork would put a stop to it and get them back to cleaning dishes or something bearable.
"If it isn't Tallos. 'Sup. Yeah, this place stinks like a road-kill Skuntank, but if we just get it done, it'll be squeaky clean in no time," he informs the Golem. Figures he'd go for the lemon-spray and start going like he was fighting encircling zombies with it. He'd let him do his thing while he continues sweeping. No sense in washing the floor if you don't have the dust all brushed up...
Indeed, it's getting far too crowded for comfort down here. Shaw wants to deal with his problems -alone-, just in case he should break down again; revealing his weakness and shame to the world would be unbearable! He can live with it...maybe...but only as long as no one ever knows quite what happened to the shattered Absol. Now Shaw's in an uncomfortable situation, locked under the oppressive gaze of his peers. Above all, he mustn't overreact.
First Nehru, then Sho, of all people, and lastly...that Golem in programming. Shaw's seen him around, but doesn't really know the guy. He seems pretty shy, though, which makes Shaw feel slightly more comfortable--being around those even more insecure than he currently feels increases the Absol's confidence. Shaw nods to acknowledge Nehru's and Sho's greetings, then focuses his gaze on an especially uninteresting patch of floor. "Sho," he begins "Don't tell me you've come down here to look for eggs?" The notion would be laughable, were it not so terribly morbid.
...Really? /Really/? Was that necessary? Sho steps aside as Tallos enters, but ignores the rock turtle... until he starts spraying things everywhere. Awful, faux fruit things. His muzzle wrinkles in distaste and he shoots Tallos a glare, ears folding backwards but upright in that owl-like way cats do when they are very annoyed. His tail wriggles with his irritance as well, and with the dirty look he gives the rock turtle, he realises he recognises this guy, too. And the Abra. Coders... possibly even the guys that keep fixing all the things Sho messes up with their systems. At least this thought makes his glare switch to a sardonic grin.
"Haha! That's a correct equation, Shaw! You never know, do you..." The Luxio shrugs, edging a little closer to the Absol; simply because he is at least formally acquainted with the darkling. His head snaps around to fix on Nehru, "You, binomial!" And his gaze alraedy flicks away, darting around the room. "Did you find a-" Nevermind! His smirk spreads into a toothy grin, and he takes a few quick, purposeful strides towards one of the chairs... and snatches up the Hydra Egg with a triumphant laugh.
The dirty look that the zap cat gives Tallos is completely ignored, or at least it seems that way. The rock turtle's social incapacities unfortunately made picking up on expressions harder for the rock turtle. The luxio-morph might as well have been making a poker face at Tallos. What gets the rock turtle's attention is Nehru's response, to which he replies in a slightly confused, but much less whiny tone, due to the lemon scent drowning out all the other smells in his nose.
"Road-kill skuntank...stuntank killed by the road, a dead polecat, a tank of stink...tanker transport of methane...transport of foul smells...transporting them away...I wish they'd be transported away, all I can do is a mask them...behind a mask...a mask of smell..."
The rock turtle faded out after his usual ramble of speaking out his train of thoughts, before turning around and resuming spraying, only half=listening to what Shaw and Sho were saying about eggs...until Sho's laughter caused him to suddenly stop and turn around at hearing such a strange and foreign noise in a place like this. The turtle slowly walked over to be right next to Sho and look over the strange object he had just picked up, tilting his head in curiousity before speaking to Sho directly this time.
"What is that egg doing here? That egg shouldn't be here...why is it here? Who put that egg here? Why is it here...why would that egg be here...that Easter egg be here? The Easter Lopunny was here?"