Post by Metal Sickle on Apr 30, 2019 22:03:46 GMT
"Sickle wants to adorn his bone throne with your torso!"
| As Sickle sat alone in the small, dingy apartment he was staying in for the next few days, he couldn't stop himself from looking over the documents he had found while with Legemeton days prior. The small coffee table in front of him littered with hundreds and hundreds of documentation papers here or there, some stained slightly with brown colored liquids while others simply were white sheets with long strings of black writing covering their many pages. Changeling eyes darted from word to word as he shuffled his way through the papers trying to uncover their ancient mystery, the reasoning behind his kidnapping in the bunker known simply as 'Facility Seven' and the many other projects and things going on inside of the buildings as a whole. The underground compound contained thousands and thousands of test subjects who were of the Frost Demon race, according to some of the documents Sickle had acquired during his escape, and it was only late into their ownership of Sickle did they discover his 'faulty genetic structure' as they put it so elegantly in writing. He was important to them, he knew that well enough, but he was still confused as to why. He knew very little on the actual business side of the organization known simply as 'CoolTech' that he was being pursued by, and while he sat in the spacious, empty domain pacing around the dirty floor, looking at the walls with thousands of tiny strings connecting multiple groupings of papers together to form a sort of cork-board collage style effort with the hopes of figuring out the entire problem he has been finding. The answer to his question, aside from all of the mumbo-jumbo. He would stop pacing, tracing his finger lightly across a cord to meet up with an extremely fine tipped tack on the wall, piercing the hide of a document entitled 'Project Scion: Header Inc'. His eyes scanned the words below, entranced in the concept. The paper he was reading was far above the rest. It appeared to him as some sort of beginner for the research, the introduction for new members aside from the pamphlet beside him. He read on again and again quizzically as he tried to find answers as to why this was all happening. His dull intellect putting things together as he continued on the path. "The creation of Project Scion comes from the hope of an old generation lost to time reclaiming their throne through the means of attaining long lost potential and power. Director Frig has specified that should any discoveries of great importance arise, immediate information gathering must take place to assure the perfection of the Bio-Strength Serum." The document read, it's words cold and lifeless, yet giving away so much necessary information. Sickle absorbed the words mentally, playing tennis with his subconscious as to what it could all mean. This origins of this Director Frig, this... 'Bio-Strength Serum', and the invention of it, whatever it may be. The Changeling could have cared less, and drug his hand lightly across another wire once more, following the trail as it met firmly with a plate. Specifically, a metal dining plate with a paper stuck to the inside, doodles and drawing painting its surface. However, aside from the weird drawings came words and thoughts. The ideas of the professors and scientists who thought of their progress as they ate. It told ideas of finding random Changelings and gathering their DNA, their imprint on life itself and tracing it as far as they can until they met with a mutant clan member. Find the one with the closest genetic relationship and then work with that one. Tests continuing as they plotted around figuring out the best use of their subjects. This particular scientists told worries of his safety after they retrieved a specific specimen named Kone, a feisty Frost Demon who nearly killed his guards before escaping. They managed to find him once more and execute him before using his genetic structure to test on foreign Earthling life forms. Whatever else was happening the platter did not say, as the doctor ended with exclaimations of his work being highly illegal, and his fears that he may one day be charged for his studies. Small trails of blood were splattered on the paper, revealing a more grim tale for the writer, though Sickle did not care. That worker tested on him as well, and he could not forgive complacency. Finding himself going to another paper, one which detailed testing procedures, to another with a list of names on it, the Changeling was getting sick. Seeing name after name, all brothers and sisters of his species. Those who were innocent aliens caught by a terrible group intent on figuring out who has ancestors from a certain line. Sickle knew well from his own family history that he matched nigh exactly with what the members of this organization wanted to attain. He was born with active mutant genes from his father's side. The Ize Clan being a branch of the Mutant Clan. Sickle was unsure fully as to how, he assumed being a distant cousin of the great Emperor Chilled many many years ago, as the history books told him many times in his childhood, but he was never confirmed. He did not believe he was related to any of the direct mutant hybrids, but he knew CoolTech would want to get to him in any way they physically can, which meant he needed to stay on his guard. "By the Emperor..." Sickle would say to himself as he thought of all of it, piecing together exactly all of it together, taking in everything from all of the papers and leaflets around him. It was clear to him that they wanted to rip him up for his genes, just to test with his DNA. That was for sure. However, what stuck with him most was something he read in one of the papers. A single string of voice clips as an afterthought by the humans, but made perfect sense to the Changeling. It was the death speech of the Frost Demon they were executing, his final words before being shot. "The frozen cliffs would guide you. Do not let them win-" A gunshot stopping his voice, hushed tones from the scientists as the body would thump to the floor, loudly making a hit sound as it smashed into the laminate floors he remembered walking on during his escape. That would explain the cracks he saw while they escaped... "I really need to get the hell back to Frost... I need to figure out more about all of this." He would say to himself, feeling the energy inside boiling with hate and pain. He despised his people, he really did, and his family even more, but this was something unforgivable. He needed to go to the Arctic Wastes of Frost, he needed to see the Frozen Cliffs, and he needed answers. However, he would stop himself before he hyped himself up. He would prevent himself from going to far and stopped. His eyes gliding from the bottom of the wall, where he was laying, reading the most recent document, stopping to look back up at the pamphlet left behind at the very top. Colorful and very 'human', he looked it over and read it's contents, memorizing what the scientists were being given as they entered the care of the CoolTech facilities. |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS
