Dramatic Death Scenes!

T.Mor:

Ok. So...I was useless with picking things...And just kinda gave a 'gotta wait' gesture to Peter. Waiting made me anxious. Like...Super anxious. And I like...practically flipped out in relief when Cricket came back not dead.

I took the mask, and while Cricket was working on the locks went ahead asn slipped it over Peter's face. "Pardon my...erm. gore hands." I muttered as I did so, noticing I was still covered in blood a little bit. Nothing incriminating..Mr.Face knew I was socially awkward in the worst way. That's why he called me in. I was...funny or something to him. It made me a bit sick inside.

Cricket
I stepped aside with a nod, cocking my head in what I hoped resembled a 'what now' gesture. I glanced at the door and back at T.Mor.

Peter
I gave T.Mor shrug to show him that I didn't care about the gore. Well, I might've cared under normal circumstances, but I was beyond that by this point. I climbed out of the tub, giving Cricket a nod of thanks and holding out my hand for my tools.

T.Mor:

So far so good. No one had said anything worse than my name...Worst I'd get at this point was a particularly brutal set of acid burns. I could handle that. I mean...I didn't say my name. So...I couldn't be executed for it. Things were looking good.

I crept over to the door, careful to be as noiseless as I possibly could...Didn't need to trip or something stupid. I swung the door open, mentally noting that the hinges needed oiled--

Oh crap.

"Mr.Namechov...Care to explain what I see before me? And...the...notable...Dissappearance of My Hostage?"

I was a dead man.

Peter
...Oh...shit.
Not all was lost. We could run. I could fight. And as long as I didn't say anything and nobody said my name... And we had to get T.Mor out of here. I didn't even want to think about what they could do to him...

Cricket
I'd just finished handing the tools back to Peter. Farewell, sweet puzzlesolvers...oi my my. That voice. Shit. This, was bad. Plan, plan, first thing that comes to mind! I walked up to Mr. Face, muttering along the way, "Cover your ears and run." I was as close as I could get and as close as I ever hoped to be to Mr. Face's unface. I took a breath, and sent a screeching whistle cracking through the air in a beautiful strike of ear-splitting sound.

T.Mor:

" I...uh...That's I was...It and ..." I rambled incoherently."There it wasn't...I don't...And..." And now I was having a full on social awkward breakdown. Then...I heard Cricket mutter.

Maybe...All was not lost? I just had time to throw my hands up before I heard a whistle. Mr.Face was not pleased, At all. He threw his hands to his ears immediately. He was in more pain than I'd ever seen him. Two words left his mouth. "SIEZE THEM." He shouted...at no one in particular, still making a hideous crunched up unface at the sound.

I was running.

Peter
Ow.
What a beautiful, beautiful sound...the sound of an escape route.
My tools secure in my boot once more, I bolted for the doorway. I made a punch at Mr. Face without breaking stride, continuing on my way. We had to get out of the prisons... We could easily lose anyone who tried to follow us in the maze of hallways above. Once we'd done that, we'd be in the clear. Then I could rejoin my team. After that, two people on the team could take Ana and T.Mor and shift them out...because there was no way that they were going to be safe in this city anymore.
Who was I kidding? They weren't safe now!

Cricket
I continued to hold the glorious note as I ran...the only problem being that I, being mortal, had to breath...and that's very hard to do when hitting such a high note and running for your life. I could hold the note about thirty seconds before I had to slip in a breath, and the numbers were decreasing. No time to think! Just whistle! C'mon!

T.Mor:

I heard a gunshot. Which was a bit of a miracle over the whistling. Oh crap. Should I...I glanced over my shoulder for confirmation...still running. This hallway was longer when you were trying not to die in it...I noticed. It wouldn't have been lethal. Not at all...

Peter
A gunshot. That was a sound I was familiar with. I looked over my shoulder. Gods, I felt so useless! If it weren't for the Sybek in this city, I'd be suppressing gunfire with my heat control. No combustion in the barrel, no shot. ...Hell, I'd be setting so many people on fire already! Guns wouldn't be a problem...but no. The Sybek had to screw that up.
It was always the Sybek.

Cricket
Something slammed into my leg, and suddenly I was collapsed on the ground. I hadn't heard anything...my ears were still ringing. For a brief moment everything was muddled. Well...the ground felt nice and cold. Ow...Agh! A cinder-hot pain blossomed up near my knee, and red was seeping out...I was no longer whistling. I wasn't...shit! I looked ahead. The two were still running. A million emotions hit me at once. I was going to die! But maybe they would stand a chance. But maybe this really hurt! I'd made it this far, so what was another bump in the road? "Run, damnit!" I winced and started whistling again.

Peter
I halted as I looked over my shoulder at him. I couldn't just...! I couldn't leave him... He'd helped me! It briefly crossed my mind that my protocol demanded that I put the lives of civilians before my own. Did that count when the enemy wasn't the Sybek? Bah, this was stupid! It wasn't like I could leave him behind, protocol or not!

T.Mor:

"Peter...What...What do?" I said, unsure if Peter could even hear me at that point. I had stopped running with the stop of the whistle.

And I knew what would be going on with Cricket as well. Several guards would wrestle him into a cell, and shackle him up. The mask would be confiscated. He would get no choices. I would get no choices either. Forfeit by action, Mr.Face would say.

I heard the whistle start back up.

Peter
"I don't...I don't know!"
I turned around and ran back for Cricket. I had to get him out of here...there was no getting around it. But I didn't run in a straight line like an idiot; I did everything I could to make myself a more difficult target. Almost to Cricket...I'd haul him onto my back and split. Just had to make it to him, then make it up to the main floor...

Cricket
I almost subconsciously shook my head as Peter ran back, and stopped whistling just to say, "What are you--? Go!"

T.Mor:

Another shot. Crap just got...er...More real. Guards were quickly closing on Peter and Cricket, and I just stood there. Totally...baffled. I wanted to run. Every fibre of my being screamed 'HECK. YOU ALREADY ARE IN FOR TREASON, WHY NOT GO AWOL TOO?' But then...I knew those people...They weren't just...faceless victims...And I mean...I didn't really deserve to escape. I just killed someone tonight even. Did not deserve the chance.
I walked back down the hallway. "I...I'm not...Erm." I managed before I was siezed as well.
Fantastic. That...was absolutely useless. I looked at the ground as they peeled my mask off. I'd just been fired. That was a hollow victory.

Peter
I clenched my teeth and grunted as pain blossomed in my leg. I fell to the ground, but I scrambled to my feet again. I started limping...and realized how useless it was. There was no way...
That hope from before? Long gone.

Cricket
I took my own mask off before any of the guards could, my final statement of 'aye, I know I'm in for it, you don't have to tell me.' Some anonymous hands pulled me to my feet. I found it a bit hard to look Peter and T.Mor in the eyes. They didn't have to...if it weren't for me...I settled on letting my hair fall into my eyes so I could look at black.

T.Mor:

I was pulled into a cell, and I figured that this was going to happen to everyone else as well. Pulled into seperate cells, with the PVC piping to tell us whether the others were alive or not.

This was not the case. I found myself back into the tub room, which had been quickly outfitted with a set of shackles as well as the tub. They were still SHINY these shackles. I think Peter was dragged in after me...Followed by Cricket.

Oh god. This was going to be awful.

Absolutely...Awful.

Peter
We all had our masks off now...but I didn't want to meet anyone's eyes. I was glad that my hair covered mine if I tipped my head down. Kinda like Cricket's...
Oh damn. The water...

Cricket
I raised my eyes a little in surprise when I saw Peter dragged to the same cell as T.Mor. Weren't people normally put in...? How did I know this, anyhow? It was like I'd been here before in another life or something. Ah. Oi my my. This was bad...the guards weren't gentle getting me chained to the wall yet again. I just stared down.

T.Mor:

I got the duct tape treatment. Ok. Fine. I watched them pull Peter back into the tub, and shackle Cricket to the wall. They gagged him, to try and stop the whistling. It ran like clockwork. Absolutely seamless. Someone even opened the spigot on the tub. I was not entirely sure what was going on there.
I realised, like a rock hitting the bottom of my stomach, that I was not just here to notice the excellent choreography. My duct tape bindings rubbed...and I wondered if the shackles had been prefiled or not. If they hadn't...I felt for Cricket's wrists.
"I am fascinated...as to what made any of this appear to be a good idea." Mr.Face asked the room as a whole, slamming the door. "Mr.Namechov...care to enlighten me?"
"I...it...I'M....Those...are my friends." I managed after a moment.
"Invalid. Anyone else care to take a shot at it? Or shall I just start?" He asked.

Peter
I didn't even bother trying to struggle against the shackles this time; I knew it wouldn't work. I felt my heart drop into my stomach as the tub started to fill with water.
"Would you want to be in this position?" I asked Mr. Face in the most defiant voice I could muster.

T.Mor:

"Accused and convicted of treason, aiding and abbetting, and well...I suppouse an arguement could be made against it...but mutiny? No. I would not like to be in that situation." He looked at me pointedly. Unlooked. Whatever. "I do not envy...any of you. BUT THAT DOES NOT ANSWER MY QUESTION, HOSTAGE."

He was angry...Oh god.