An Ordinary Oddball
Magpie—The Hold
As the lights blinked out and came back on, bathing the Hold's hallways in red, Magpie's uniform also shifted to reflect that of the bad crowd, as it were, that were exiting their cells. The black of her armor seemed to deepen unto the depth of vantablack, all the while spreading in a jagged pattern that seemed to be spray-painted onto the thinner white parts. She seemed to consider Cap-Storm's hanging soon-to-be corpse for a moment, then copied his pauldron as if to lump him in with the rest of the bad guys. In the blink of an eye, like a glitchy jumpscare taking place in the moment the lights had flickered, this assimilation of the mean had taken place.
"Oopsies! Wasn't me, mostly," she said earnestly to Darksword, putting up a hand to her mouth as if she were just caught sticking the other into a cookie jar. She jumped up onto the sword that was stuck into Cap-Storm's knee, causing the joint to crunch as she stood on her tiptoes as best as she could to examine the dead man's face. "Yep, the thunderhead's dead as a doornail," she confirmed earnestly to his murderer, before brandishing a makeshift shiv she'd obtained from the fact that most of the prisoners carried one at the body. "You want I should take his face? It might get some heat off you, Swordsy. Or maybe you want the street cred instead?"
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 5th 2024 at 2:08:48 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Brimsteel - the Hold
When the lights went out, the cell block would hear a strange sound... or rather, the absence of one. For the first time since arriving, Brimsteel had stopped punching.
And when the door to his cell was suddenly thrown out into the hall by a massive blast of hellfire, it was quite apparent as to why.
Brimsteel stepped out of his cell, and looked around at his surroundings. Then he walked down the hall, ignoring all of the other prisoners he went past, until he reached the door out of the cell block. There was an electronic lock, but that wouldn't be a problem. Brimsteel grabbed the lock, and cables emerged from his palm and snaked into the machine. Once the cables were inside, the lock burst into flame, but strangely, it didn't seem to be damaged by this.
Brimsteel looked at the door for a moment, and then it opened up for him. He let go of the lock, making the flames extinguish, and he simply walked out the open door. He and the other prisoners were now free to move about the Hold.
White Wolf, Blue Lagoon Park
White Wolf blinked. It wasn't Tae-hyun's fanboying that threw her for a loop - she'd met devoted cape fans before, and compared to some, this boy was tame. It was more the fact that this was apparently his top priority while a vicious monster was loose, and after he had proven himself... less than suited to superheroism, to judge by the position she'd found him in.
"Well, ah... are you sure you NEED to fight? Inkwell, Nike, Paragon - that's quite the lineup of heroes for one silly old monster, isn't it? Maybe an, ah... if you'll forgive me for putting it so blunt... greenhorn like yourself won't have much to contri-"
The words caught in her throat as she saw the newest addition to the brawl, and processed his identity. He had changed his costume significantly, but the face, the immense build... the powers - oh, goodness gracious, the powers that had killed so many young heroes this "new Windwing's" age-
"....No. No - you need to leave. Now." Tae-hyun's shoulders were gripped by two powerful fur-covered hands, comically oversized next to his dainty limbs, and before he could protest White Wolf was dragging him, fast as she could manage, away from the scene of the fight. Away from Collateral. The barrier she had erected remained roughly where it had been, but the observant would notice it pivot in place. Before it had specifically separated Tae-hyun from the sasquatch; now, it was blocking Ryan Brady from the direction White Wolf was scurrying away in.
The Hold
Amidst the furore of countless maximum security prisoners realising they had been offered an escape opportunity on a silver platter, there was a much subtler noise, yet one that bore just as many ill omens. Three heavy metal objects, falling to the floor with a dull clank.
The guards assigned to Line Nightmare had been told much of the prisoner in the sealed cell at the far end. His totally unknown background. His gory history. The UK Government striking a deal with the USA to have him sent to the Hold, specifically because no British prison had the necessary equipment to keep him contained. There were more powerful prisoners in the Hold, prisoners who had committed larger-scale acts of evil, but few carried a terrifying reputation quite like the one known only as "the Apex Predator".
Now was his time. He had spent literal years building up silent resentment towards the human scum keeping him under lock and key. Now, with the power out, the electronic shackles over his hands and muzzle had been cast off, and Apex was about to explode with rage.
Literally.
A blast of deep red fire tore through the reinforced steel door as though it were paper, roaring like a blazing tsunami through the corridor. There were screams - most from guards, some from other prisoners; the flames did not discrimate. Quickly they fell silent, and soon all that could be heard in Line Nightmare was the sound of sizzling meat.
From out of the glowing red hole in the wall that had once been a cell door, a gigantic lupine figure strode. His fur was so dark, and the light so dim, that he was but a silhouette; only his eyes, a jarringly bright blue against his black coat, could be made out clearly. Flicking stray embers off his clawed fingertips, Apex took a moment to admire his handiwork.
How he had missed the smell of burnt flesh.
be nice to benjamin it's not his fault he got beat up by a microbe
The Light That Blinds
Windwing (Blue Lagoon Park)
"Wh— huh— hey hey hey hey hey hey!" Windwing yelped, frantically kicking as White Wolf started dragging him away. "What?! What's going on?! What're you—?!"
He caught sight of the newcomer, and his heart flattened against his ribcage.
The costume, the crackling blue energy, the 'traditional' heroic build that never failed to make Tae-hyun feel extraordinarily self-conscious over his own appearance (that had been at its worst when he was in middle school, god that had sucked)—Windwing had been a long-time superhero fanboy, catching every bit of news he could get, and as such, well...
He knew exactly who this guy was.
"WHAT?!" Birds fled at the panicked shriek. "Wh-wh-what's he doing here?!"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
The Hold - Coming Apart
Ronnie turned to look at the young girl who'd just arrived and offered to "take the face" of Cap-Storm. Offering to either take the guy's face or just let him have the street credit for taking down a hero. But Ronnie remembered what happened when good ol' Doc Vivos went looking for some really intense street cred. "I...uhh, I'll be honest I just wanted that asshat fuck dead cuz he was always making fun of me, pushin' his authority all over me." Ronnie scratched his head, "Take his face if you want. I'm gonna go grab my costume from the gear depot here. Man, I hear they pick through just about everything you had on you..."
He got to his feet, walked right by the savagely slain corpse, and didn't look back. Ronnie looked down the hallway to see several more people dismissed as losers now taking violent revenge on the guards, who'd come a'runnin' only to see that keeping the prisoners in their cells was a lost battle.
Meanwhile, Harry was steadily collapsing to his knees.
Not because he was so readily abandoned by his friend, no. Not because of the giant flaming werewolf that had just readily entered like that, no. It was the sound of the great holy sealing sphere slowly - ring by ring - deactivating. The letters and scripture faded, and Harry's heart sank.
Each of the rotating rings fell from the device with a clang that sent spikes of anxiety through the young man's stomach. When the last one fell, Harry pissed himself. He swore to himself as he saw the red and black, oozing, ink-like form congealing out of a crack that slowly formed in the holy orb.
Four eyes were barely visible in that wretched thing's countenance before the whole room began to shake and rumble, the thick concrete and steel doors ripped off their hinges - metal swirling and concrete and reinforcements within melting and melding. A possession of the very room, using its resources to rebuild the Darklord's favored form.
Four large arms slowly took shape, followed by two large, burning wings alight with flame, splits in the scale-like skin of the constructed demonic form revealing something like magma within. Four great, burning eyes on a broad, thick set head. Flame visible within the mouth, knife-like teeth ground together against each other. The only thing that might pass for hair was a stream of flame coming from the crown of the head.
The four arms were large at the forearm, and ended in six long, curved dagger nails. The form was almost 15 feet tall, and its construction carved the room to pieces.
Now, what had once been a cell for a Supervillain now resembled nothing less than some dismal side of Hell.
Harry couldn't even bring himself to move. His knees locked in place as the creature walked through where there had once been doors. As much as Harry had made fun, he had never truly seen what Myrkaan was, never seen the footage, never experienced this thing run amok.
And now? Harry couldn't help himself. Tears streamed down his face, inarticulate noises uttered by his disorderly mouth.
Myrkaan the Darklord approached the mentally quite damaged guard, and promptly ran one finger across his cheek - searing it in the process. "Ahhh...no, no no...no..." The voice was deep, raspy and cavernous, with a certain element of poisonous honey to it. "No tears..." He wiped clear the other side of Harry's face with his claw, "gently" so - the slow touch producing burn scars along the young man's cheek.
"It is a waste of good suffering." Myrkaan walked past - and as he did, six long, jagged chains constructed of the concrete and metal from the doors lurched from that once-a-cell. Harry let out baleful, horrible screams that would carry down the line - but hardly heard above the cantor of the uprising.
And as he was pulled into the cell by the chains, his screams would fade to gurgles.
Myrkaan turned and looked at Apex. "Ahhh...I had figured that when the catastrophic error struck, you might be out of your bindings quickly, Apex. Quite a situation we find ourselves in, mm? We are in the midst of one of the greatest jails for super criminals, and yet, some form of error has sprung the entire population. All this delicious chaos...and it gives me something of an idea."
An Ordinary Oddball
Magpie—The Hold
Magpie looked back in the direction of the A-listers' cell bloc anxiously, the cold spike of pain that wasn't hers disrupting her form and making it ripple like a sheet ghost in the cold Halloween night. And then, just as quickly as it had manifested, that pain had been shut away. Sealed...much like poor Harry had been in his new personal Hell. And as much as Magpie hadn't liked the man, she had still been drawing on him when taking the average of the prison population.
"You know, I suddenly don't want this guy's face. Staying here would make me a dummy like him anyways," she remarked, hopping away from Cap-Storm's remains and skipping to Darksword's side. Her form continued to change, mostly because she was drawing on the prisoners more in an attempt to avoid the pain the guards were projecting. As the black of her costume crept over diminishing lines of white, Darksword could see that she was copying him most of all, probably in an attempt at camaraderie. "Looks like all heck's broken loose, so I guess I'll stick with you 'til we're both out of here. Viva la revolution and all that, minus whatever's going on way back there."
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 12th 2024 at 1:52:48 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Fwomph
Blue Lagoon Park - Assembled Heroes vs Ange—oh
The beast staggered with the blow, pushing itself out of the pit it had caused in the soil from the hit from Nike when the next few attacks came in, leaving it staggering... And then Collateral atomized it. The beam consumed most of the entity, leaving anything not caught in the path to fall charred and dismembered to the sides.
At the edge of the park, at what was considered a safe distance according to civic bylaws, a small news crew who had been taping the fight started getting out interview mics and a backdrop, just in case this confrontation led into an impromptu press conference.
It's clearly a case of backroom political albumizing.
Blood Mage Apologist
The Hold - New Investment Opportunities
__________________________________________________________________________Belle had spent months, scrabbling in her cell. It had been anything but easy, but if there was anyone that could have come up with an escape plan to flee the Hold, it would have been her: she'd had it all planned out.
Bribe a few guards to smuggle in chemicals with which to create an explosive mix to blow the door of her cell open, since the fools hadn't warded her prison against precision physical attack, but merely brute strength and magic, as though that was the only avenue a supervillain might employ to get her way.
Lay it along the joints and the frame of the barrier between her and her rightful criminal enterprise, and ignite it with a spark made from a scrap of a metal chair she'd deconstructed in private, when the guards had grown tired of jeering and mocking the powerless scientist they'd caged with such little care to where her actual talents lied.
She still wasn't entirely sure why she'd been put in maximum security. It was true that she was an important kind of villain, but her actual ability was at its peak with equipment and preparation. Perhaps it'd been because they'd feared she'd get the general population to bring her trinkets and toys to stage a jailbreak with?
... They weren't wrong. The whole thing would've been much faster, without being under such heavy lock and key.
She'd mostly managed stage one, regardless. Watch the door explode, carved from the rest of the cell by the force of the blast: aim to catch a guard with it. Dead or unconscious, their weapon would be easy to pick apart and restructure to her own design.
There had been parts of her plan that she'd remained unsatisfied with: an inability to, well, plan for an actual, extended fight remained a glaring issue in any eventuality she could foresee. But she would have figured something out. She always did. And while she planned and plotted and schemed, she'd begun to prepare: the chemicals had been sourced, the ingredients smuggled by outside contacts.
Everything had begun to fall into place.
And then some idiot had opened the door to her cell.
Though she would have never admitted it, of course, it wasn't like she couldn't see how much more convenient this was. Without her exo-suit and without any drones at her side, she never had managed to figure out a way to actually escape, rather than to just kill at least one guard and probably get all her teeth knocked out for her trouble. Her plan would have never have worked out the way she'd wanted it to.
But as she stepped out into the chaos, her cell door finally, at last, sliding upwards with a grinding of gears, Belle had to admit-
It was annoying that someone had gotten to staging a jailbreak first. And so much more... effectively.
The woman stepped over the body of a fallen guard, and stopped only to retrieve a stun rifle from a different broken body- or was it a pulse weapon? She doubted that the regular guards would carry lethal arms, in case one of the prisoners got their hands on it. Her fingers fiddled with the device, stripping it apart and working their way into the skeleton of the weapon as she walked. Such fascinating designs, equipment designed to hold A-Listers, or so the nebulous term went- foolish, to try to categorize villains like that. It implied quite a bit that was dangerous to rely on, threat levels that often had no nuance.
... Though, as she turned a corner to find what looked like a fucking werewolf and a demon from Hell, it did seem approx to refer to them as A-Listers. She had met neither, though whether or not they knew her by reputation, she couldn't have said. Watching the demon drag a man to the Underworld or some facsimile of it was fascinating, though.
She didn't recognize the demon, but she did vaguely remember rumors about the wolf-thing. A monster, incapable of thought and rationalization, though it- he?- certainly seemed cunning enough.
Demon? Magical creature? Are they both magical? How can I reach them? How can I convince them to help me? How can I bargain? What do they want? What can I give them? What can they give me?
Would they be a good business investment?
"Good evening, gentlemen," she called out, with a smile plastered on her face and a bounce to her step. They weren't, as of present, attacking the other prisoners. Approaching them was a risk, but a calculated one. She needed allies to escape this place. And even magical beings could use a bit of firepower.
Even if they ignored her, you only got one first impression. Best to be friendly. Business took all kinds. And you never really knew who'd want someone with a one-use rocket launcher in their corner.
"Enjoying the evening entertainment?" Spindle asked. She slapped the glowing mix of chemicals banned in multiple states into the makeshift husk of a weapon that had been designed to be less than lethal, and not to be the abomination of sparking science it was right now. "It's quite a sight. But I imagine the view outside the Hold must be better, no?"
Edited by Cwest5538 on May 14th 2024 at 10:17:02 AM
Wooze looks at Glass with a 'please take her away' look
Renegade-The Hold
Within the hold there was chaos, fear from the guards, anger from the inmates, and panic as far as could be felt. It was a little fact that positive emotions arose and that negative emotions sank. for most this information wouldn't matter because emotions could be seen. But to the unnamed inmate within the complex cell it mattered a great deal, because now without the various layers of protection he was able to extend his own abilities, forcing the negative emotion that hung heavy and low to manifest, taking on the form of crackling static noise, which began to slither and move towards the cell.
Deep but labored breathing soon came from the cell, transforming slowly into a maddening cackle. “It's about time.” clawed fingers broke through the cell, renting apart the material as if it were nothing but paper. The figure that stepped out was unnaturally tall and thin, chaotic multi-colored hair falling every which way atop his head, bear trap like teeth shown by an open mouth smile. “Now then, I believe it's time we began the performance.”
Breath of the Sun
Nike - Blue Lagoon Park
As the beast climbed out of the ditch she'd inadvertently dug, a few more heroes offered their own attacks - which was slightly frustrating, because it was obvious none of them had the same level of offensive power she did, so their attacks weren't going to do serious damage and only served to make it harder for her to use her own touch-based powers - so Nike stayed back a step.
She prepared to swoop forward at the next opening, but then yet another person announced their attack, and when she glanced over she realized what was going to happen.
Moving quickly, Nike scooped up the ink-user, pulling her close the moment they touched and flying them both closer to the radioactive boy, so they'd be well clear of the potential fallout.
Just in case, she maintained her telekinetic shield over both of them until the explosion ended, though fortunately it proved unnecessary. She did note a slight resonance - a fellow psionic, maybe? Questions for later.
The monster was atomized. Which wasn't surprising, considering who had blasted it. She set the ink heroine down, and took a deep breath. "Sorry about that, miss. Wasn't sure how much power he was going to use."
Then she turned to the source of the blast. "Atomix." She greeted. "Glad to see you've gotten a handle on things. In the future, though, you should probably strive to coordinate better with the other heroes on scene. No offense. I just had no idea how big the blast radius was going to be."
Maybe that was still a sore spot for him, but given how he'd accepted his suspension she assumed he was at least somewhat self-aware of his own issues and working on them.
"Anyway," She cleared her throat and clapped. "Good work, team. Bit of property damage, but easily fixed. Still need to figure out who released the monster, and it probably would have been better to try and take it alive for study, but other than that, textbook hero work. I can handle the reporters, so you're free to go if you don't want to be caught on camera."
What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?
The Hold
Myrkaan looked about to see more figures entering the impromptu gathering spot - and he regarded each of them with a statement; "And here is Fero'nas, I see my fellow Demon has 'scaped the clasps of his own spherical cell." Crossing one pair of arms in front of his chest, the other behind his back, Myrkaan looked next to the woman who had walked out to speak to them.
"And you must be Spindle. Mmmyes...I do recall each person interred here, thrown into chains by Easton's finest. You're welcome to join what I envision to be our recompense upon them for the audacity."
Glancing at the last to so far join the assembly, the Demon clapped his hands, "And welcome, dear Renegade. The chaos has only begun, because I happen to know more than a little about what's set to go on. The Five, who created this wretched gaol, are returning back from an encounter with my old acquaintance Lord Nihl. They will be coming by here with a shuttle..."
A cruel sneer showed on the creature's constructed face, "And that is where we will strike them. We'll take the shuttle, and commandeer it into Easton City itself, in the midst of the government building. Past their early warning systems and sensors, and with that momentum, crush our hated adversaries under the weight of those they so readily threw away..." He then snickered, "But in case I need demonstrate more of my hand, I know well enough there is an ace in the hole deeper underneath this jail. Something to tilt the scales more firmly in our favor."
The Park
"Aww shit..." Ryan muttered as he watched the form of the creature that had been rampaging dwindle and incinerate, reduced to atomized ash in the face of his blast. He hadn't intended—-dammit! Dammit! He tilted his head to make the sheer embarrassment and shame that had come surging back to the surface less obvious. Doing that dredged up every memory of the incident where—-
Then he heard the kid. Dane came running back out, clearly safe and sound. He immediately jumped, arms in the air, and grinned widely, "Man that was awesome! Just straight up blasted that thing to dust! Dude you're like, extreeeeeme!!!"
Ryan didn't care for being extreme or uncanny or any of that. But what he did care about was that Dane was okay. The kid had been possibly in a lot of danger, and that thing didn't seem like it was the type of monster to care about hurting a kid. So...at least the kid wasn't hurt. At least he didn't fail in that way.
Responding to Nike, Ryan said, "Not Atomix any more, I'm literally barred from that name. I go by Collateral. It's a reminder..." He then nodded, "I'll definitely coordinate better." And that was me trying to restrain myself. My atomic energy's not decreasing with time.
He then looked over at where Windwing was standing behind the protective figure of White Wolf. Yeah. He'd heard what the kid said. Couldn't blame him, really. Ryan had been about a year or two older than him when That happened.
Looking at the others, he said, "I gotta get Dane back to—-"
"I'm not going back yet!" Dane pouted and glared at the others, "I was told I'd hang out with Atomi-Collatera-whatever for another hour. I never get to hang out with anybody!"
Edited by NickTheSwing on May 15th 2024 at 7:44:13 AM
Blood Mage Apologist
The Hold - New Investment Opportunities
______________________________________________________Knows who am I? That's good. Could be bad. Don't like demons knowing who I am. New demon, too. Three demons? Is that wolf thing a demon?
At least the demon used her name- her working name. That's nice.
"I'm not really armed... besides the obvious," she warns, tapping her improvised, single shot firearm. "But sure. Revenge. Everyone loves it, me included. I'm not sure if anyone here is a licensed pilot, but I can fly it. Probably get past any security that it has on board, if you can deal with the heroes."
Ah, heroes. The word elicits a shudder of disgust from her. And a splash of fear.
If these demons want to kill them for her, she's all for it. Less risk of bodily harm. She doesn't suppose they could use a tech whiz? She can certainly hope.
The scientist edges to put the big one-... well, the one that addressed her, between her and the flaming wolf. And to get out of range of the other one's grip. This seems like a nice, talky sort of situation. But it could go badly for her yet.
Though she'd be lying if she said this wasn't an intriguing little soiree. She's never been much on the magical side of Easton, but it's not like she doesn't have time to branch out, either.
Wooze looks at Glass with a 'please take her away' look
Brimsteel - The Hold
"Myrkaan," Brimsteel replied to the fellow demon. "About time I followed the lead of one of my own instead of these mortals."
He listened to Myrkaan's plan. "Whatever it is you need below this prison, it will be easy to acquire." Brimsteel flexed his fingers. "This vessel provides me with extra abilities. With them, I can bend every defense built into this facility to whim. Your path will be clear."
The Light That Blinds
Windwing
Windwing let out a shriek as the monster was suddenly atomized, leaving scorch marks on the ground where it used to be. He stared at where the monster used to be, eyes wide with shock...then realized the fight was over.
"Oh." His voice was a bit small.
He felt a bit useless now.
Still—whatever! Success! In his first superhero endeavor kinda sorta! "Woo!" Windwing cheered, pumping his fist in the air. "Omigosh you guys did it you're so cool omigosh—!"
He dashed towards Nike, stars in his eyes— "OmigoshyouallweresocoolIcan'tbelieveI'mseeingsomanyheroes—" —Paragon— "—I'vebeenafanofyouguyseversinceIwasakidwellmaybenotyouspecificallybutIloveallofyouguys—" —and stopped at Inkwell— "IcosplayedasyouforCapeConlastyear!"
Windwing paused to take a deep breath, then stuck his hand out, bouncing on his heels. "I'm Windwing! The new Windwing! Nice to meet you all!"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
Ryan took aim at the monster, seeing that folks were clear.
His gauntlets powered up, crackling energy flowing through the restrictors of the Collateral gear, and flickering to life. The bright blue glow illuminating his face as he glared down the path of his intended blast at the enraged ape. He had to be careful not to use too much force - or a miss or a hit alike would see, well, just look at his current identity.
"Everybody, get clear! I'm blasting!!"
And that was the warning taken care of.
Ryan unleashed a bright blue burst of force at the form of the rampaging creature - and anyone familiar with the last few years of new probably would immediately know who this guy was.
Kaygogo's jostling of the device did not in fact result in an explosion.
Rather, it resulted in one final burst of loud, near ear-splitting noise from the damn thing...and then it fell silent. The device had done its work, and whatever was left of it was thoroughly unidentifiable. It carried no labels, no identifiers, nothing to point anyone in any kind of direction.
But it did do something.
Something that would change the direction of that day in Easton.
Inside of The Hold, the gears and gyros that kept the machines and dampeners working would suddenly all see a burst of electric force across the mainframe. Crackling force as the initial malfunction roared into an outright malicious episode of electronic malfeasance. Across the entire island that held the Supervillain prison, lights one by one all went out, and cell blocks started to power down.
As if on cue, right when Cap-Storm leaned down to tease Magpie about the likelihood of that happening - talking to her like she was a kid, rather than a kid shaped apparition - the entire block where he, Harry, and Magpie were...
It all went dark, right before the emergency power went on and bathed the entire area in red light.
But even as the emergency power went on, the slow sound of a door sliding open - the first one in that dreaded block - saw Cap-Storm's eyes widen and his throat catch.
He broke and ran.
Not even thinking of his best friend. Such was the panic gripping his mind in those moments. Realizing that the girl somehow—-or was this all just bad fortune? Was this an attack? Was The Hold being hit now? When one of the best Hero Teams was on their way in just a couple hours?
He instinctively ran back toward the so-called loser's lane, and the door—-the door! Just past Dorksword's cell...and he reached Darksword's cell! He was thinking, planning, hoping he could get out of there, into the stairwells and hallways.
He could alert the othe—-
That was the last thought of Cap-Storm's life.
Six glowing swords comprised of a strange dark force ripped through the door, slightly ajar, and impaled Cap-Storm to the wall right by the door leading out to the interior part of The Hold. His slowly more and more milky, empty eyes rolling, blood trickling down his back - and chest, his neck skewered to the wall.
A grinning Darksword staggered out of his cell, swaying back and forth. As if he couldn't believe that just happened. "And that's...that's why—-why you don't—-don't bully me, you dick, now—-now you're just—-just a dead dick. Ya dead dick."
Further down the line of cells, more and more villains walked out, free.
One by one, restrictions and dampeners failed. The inmates were amok in the asylum.