Daslabor

Even beasts could suffer crappy mornings. Eyes aflame and teeth grinding the dim darkness, the Therion crawled up from its hard and lukewarm waking place. It did not recall when it had shifted- strange, it usually went with quite a bang. The air was stale on this boxy battlefield, smelling faintly of alcohol and iron. It looked to be alone here, yet its nose told it otherwise. The walls whispered. Cowards! The Therion rammed its knuckles into the unforgiving stone floor and let out a bellowing growl that resonated through the room like thunder. Over time, it had grown to these kinds of games. Beyond the walls of the battlefield lay masterminds, hidden from the conquering strength of its claws. Inside was usually a machine or another contraption looking to match its power. It always lost. Today was different though. Holding back its rage, the Therion sniffed the walls and ceilings, hoping to find the entry shaft of their hidden opponent. Its thick, glossy chains clanked and jingled like funeral bells. There was no use in hiding. First the beast would hunt them down and conquer them, and then the whitecoats! All would bow to the Kingkiller!

[ lookin for a scientist and subject ]

💧 Michael Falsone:

The door unlocked and creaked open, an employee in a outfit to protect themself against any attacks if it were to occur, they only opened the door halfway, as if scared. They had been ordered by one of the doctors to bring SE-6560 to this experimentation room for research on both Sprite and Michael.

They tried to carefully push Michael into the room, but he was resisting, with soft whimpers and whines, refusing to talk either. They had to roughly shove him inside, and they quickly closed the door, and scurried to the one-way window, where the doctor was standing watch, and stood beside them. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" The nervous employee asked, not taking the protective suit off, just in-case they had to go back in there to interfere for whatever reason.

Michael looked to Sprite, staring with a teary-eyed horror in his eyes. Michael took a few steps back, watching the beast like a hawk, terrified of it already and nothing had even occurred directed towards him.

Michael was a young boy, he was 14 years old, but looked and seemed to act younger than what he was. He had bright white hair and ice blue eyes, most likely related to a certain doctor. He wore a hospital gown with a few spots of colorful paint dripped on it, and a cartoonish band-aid was wrapped around one of his fingers, perhaps from a paper cut or something.

He didn't seem to have any psychical changes.

Finally, one of the unseen presences revealed itself. A deep, tiger-like rumble echoed through the room as the Therion turned towards the small figure that'd stumbled into the chamber, its rapid eyes fixating on the boy's. That was when the first oddity seemed to strike the Therion's psyche. Normally, the child would already have been rendered to pieces by now. Approaching the small human with menacingly slow steps, a small error of sorts zapped through the Therion's brain, nearly breaking into what remained of its humanity. Therion didn't stalk, taunt, or give their victims any time to run. They were battle tanks. They fought. They conquered. They dominated. So why hadn't it lashed out yet and killed its opponent yet?! There was something in its blood. There had to be. The urge to bite itself and check its veins for chemicals itched across the Therion's body, but it didn't give in. Today, it was lucid. And lucidity was for cowards! Suddenly, the Kingkiller within stepped on the gas and sent the giant monster rushing forward, unsheathing its thick, hooked claws to carve into the child. Within two big leaps it was right in the front of the boy, yet right as it was about to slash its claws down it.. stopped again. What had they done to its battle spirit?! The Therion snarled, and lowered its paw, though proceeded to tower over the kid with bared teeth. Something about it.. something about the kid. The white hair, the same size, the same.. "Zero?!" A singular thought ran through the Therion's brain. Huffing, it shook the thought away. No, no.. this wasn't Zero, even if they looked alike. And even if.. well, they both carried that potent magickal aura. This wasn't the same though. Something about the child was off, very off.

💧 Michael Falsone:

Michael's eyes widened as the Therion grew closer, slowly and menacingly.

The boy's small frame shook, his hands mostly, and his legs felt weak. He looked up at the Therion, and suddenly the beast unsheathed its' claws, ready to rip Michael apart. Michael let out a sharp gasp, taking a step back and collapsing onto his bottom, his legs giving up on him.

Two big leaps, the beast stood in-front of him, Michael's widened, horrified eyes watered and tears ran down his pale face, the boy letting out shaky, messy sobs. And just as he thought he was done for, the claws stopped and did not fall upon him.

Michael was confused, but terror filled him more than confusion did.

The paw was lowered, and the beast towered over him, teeth bared and sharp. As if the beast recognized, or thought it recognized him. Michael cried, staring with a pleading, scared expression on his face. He tried to stifle his sobs, but they still came out, albeit a bit quietly.

Subtly, things in the experimentation room began to move as if a very small earthquake was occurring. Two abandoned ink pens rattled and gently twisted against the cold floor, a clipboard hanging on the wall tapped and vibrated against the wall. The light fixture above moved subtly, the most subtle out of it all, but it still moved regardless.

Michael's eyes also subtly glowed, as if this was.. his doing?

Was he making the items in the room move weakly?

The employee, who refused to take their protective suit off, watched through the window. "I really, really think this is a bad idea.. Are you sure we should keep the subject in there with that.. that... thing?" They shakily asked, as if worried for the subject, a rare thing in Daslabor employees, unless its' Dr. Iceberg.

Huh.. so there was something special about that kid. A deep, earthy rumble shook the room, yet this time, none of that force came from the Therion. There was rattling in the distance, and the light flickered, albeit briefly. Tryin' to use his magick on her, was he? Bah, he was no Beastmage! Its ancestors would look proudly upon the slaughter of such a pathetic imposter! The Therion snarled again, this time regaining more of its conquering senses. Whatever chemical had been injected into its bloodstream to make it less murderous was slowly but surely growing dilluted, with the beast's natural aggression growing stronger with the minute. With a loud growl, it lashed out its giant paw again and grasped the boy by the chest, pinning him up against the wall several feet off the floor. More snarls escaped the beast, still held back from actually striking by its sedative, which instead allowed it to think about how it could possibly use this kill to get out of this sterilized fresh white prison. Even if its meatbag side agreed that they had to skedaddle out of this place as soon as possible, and having been stuck in solitary confinement for so long had really killed its inspiration. Whatever those whitecoats were looking to test, they'd better write down their answers quickly before their futile attempt to make the Kingkiller more agreeable came to fail. That said, though, the small earthquake had definitely drawn some attention.. whether it was good attention at all, was left to be decided..

💧 Michael Falsone:

Michael gasped loudly as the Therion grabbed him and pinned him against the wall above the floor. His heartbeat was quick, and his breathing was at the brink of panicking.

Tears ran down his cheeks, he closed his eyes tightly, his eyelashes emitting the same glow his eyes were, subtly. The shaking of the items continued, quicker, but not stronger, as if he was too weak to actually use this power of his, whatever the power was..

He attempted to kick the Therion, but even if he did manage to strike the Therion, it probably wouldn't feel like much. He did not speak words, but verbally whined and cried, trying desperately to get of the beast's grasp.

Whoever doctor was watching this, was smiling, as if gaining enjoyment from watching this cruelty. But the assistant beside them, in the protective suit, looked anxious and ready to faint at any moment.

The doctor only looked down to write notes on the two's behavior.

Glowing eyes, magick tricks that made the walls tremble. Perhaps.. he was no imposter. Still clenching tight on the little body held against the wall, the Therion's feral grimace weakened as it squinted its fiery yellow eyes. No.. this kid, though vaguely similar, was not their Beastmage Zero. However, as was the case in the age of its ancestors, Beastmages were rarities, but not unique. Could it be that this one simply hadn't formed its tie to Therion yet? Was it one of its own kind? No matter the truth, this idea did seem to calm the Therion again. It put Michael down, chuffing and rumbling in a way that lacked the former aggression, and spoke more of curiosity. Once the kid was back on the ground, the Therion put its muzzle above his head and sniffed. Sterlized air. No one it knew. Nonetheless, its curiosity about the boy's true power remained. Things looked to be less life-threatening now, but the damage had already been done. Wrathful footsteps echoed down the hallway outside the testing chamber, and with a thundering wham, a sharp-faced figure slammed the door to the control chamber open. "And what in Ahj's name do you think you're doing?!" snarled Dr Hartmann, staring the doctor and his assistant down with a death glare that put the Therion's to shame. "Simply because the board refuses to keep SE-0111 within my exclusive juristiction doesn't mean you can do with her as you please. And what is.." Her eyes were drawn by the curious lack of violence inside the experimentation chamber. Brows lowered, she walked up to the reinforced invisible glass, and looked at the Therion standing over Michael, its head tilted. "I suppose the formula works, then. But what utter lack of conscience brought you to bring in SE-6560, of all people?" The small head of white hair contrasting against the beast's dark fur reminded her of the experimentation done back in the WCBL. Yet this wasn't Zero, and this time, it wasn't her in charge of the test. Things were different now, and at least for Sprite, for the better, too. At least one soul saved from Nice Man Blake's brutality..

💧 Michael Falsone:

Michael was put down onto the floor, and the Therion sniffed at his hair. The boy was still terrified, but he did let out a high-pitched noise that could possibly be a giggle, as if it tickled him a slight bit.

👁️ Dr. Smith:

The doctor turned his head to Dr. Hartmann. "I brought SE-6560 in here to research his powers, I'm afraid they are very weak, they'll have to be altered at some point." This doctor was Dr. Smith.

"With Dr. Falsone not here, I shall do whatever experiment I please with SE-6560. And same to you, Dr. Hartmann. SE-0111 is not exclusively your subject." Dr. Smith stated. "Dr. Iceberg needs to get that through his thick skull as well."

Hmm, respectfully scared, though not paralyzed. Few peers were born with the affliction of fear, though the Therion knew better than to abandon a possible battle-brother over a weakness outside their control. Chuffing, the beast took a step back and sat down in a dog-like manner, staring Michael down as its tufted tail wagged across the floor. Its tranquility was unnatural, though that probably didn't strike the local doctors as much as it did Dr Hartmann. She watched with held breath. It worked. It really did. "I.. had not expected the formula to work this quickly," Dr Hartmann said, moreso to herself than her forcibly acquired colleagues. That was about as much moments of calm that she could afford, though. As long as 111 didn't wreak any havoc, she could do so herself. Verbally, that was. "That still does not excuse, however, your blatant ignorance of what we are dealing with here, Dr Smith.." She turned to the other doctor and his assistant again, brows lowered and eyes stern. "Yes, it is by grace of your - well, our - Board's poor management that any and all personnel may experiment on the subjects as they please, but that does not mean that they should. We are here to pursue scientific breakthrough, not entertainment." There was no reason for SE-0111 and SE-6560 to be put near each other. SE-0111's purpose had been clear from the start: Dr Hartmann, and those able to assist, were to perfect the formula and other ways to control the raging bioweapon. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet this, ridiculous as it was, was most curious.. "It appears that SE-0111 sees SE-6560 as someone that he is not. How strange.." Sprite had taken her distance from Michael, only nudging him occasionally with a paw or muzzle. There was no interest in killing the boy anymore. The combination of the kid's familiar looks and his strong magical aura had somehow convinced the Therion that it was a Therion Alpha of sorts- or a Beastmage, as the natives of Konis often called it. It was endearing, really, but Dr Hartmann worried what would happen if the beast found out that Michael was something else entirely..