The Break-Out

[Dante]

The room was empty other than the wooden bed with only three legs and the two wooden buckets that sat in the opposite corner, one filled with water and the other filled with the excrements of the prisoner. The walls of the room were solid concrete and the door was about a foot thick of pure titanium. The ceiling was twelve feet above, it had previously been smooth, but four small holes had been made in it and there Dante hung, two high for an ordinary human to have jumped to, but Dante was not an ordinary human, in fact, he was not a human at all. Today was the day they would open the door to replace the two buckets. Food came in through a sliding catflap-sized door at the bottom of the actual door - for a while Dante had thought about using that to escape but it was much too small.

But today was the day. After an hour of waiting, the door finally opened, a man moved in, holding a Desert Eagle in one hand and a bucket in the other. Startled at the aparant absence of the man who should be in the room, he dropped the bucket and yelled, "He's not..." the rest of the man's sentence was cut off as the fourth leg of the wooden bed dropped from the ceiling and hit him a heavy blow on the head. The other two men, who had been waiting outside charged in, M16s, easily recognisable even from twelve feet, pointing in the room - the wrong direction. Dante dropped from the ceiling, falling down and landing, one foot on the back of each man's head, breaking their necks. Dante quickly closed the now unlocked door and changed into the guard's uniform and body armour, taking an M16, two Desert Eagles and a few flashbang grenades with him. Now there was just the small problem of making his way up and out of the half-mile deep, most heavily guarded security prison in the whole of the UK without being detected. Easy. Dante shot himself in the leg and started running out, whilst screaming, "Break out, Prison Floor LG82! He's armed!" Soon hundreds of guards started running below, none even thinking about stopping the guard who had been wounded in the prevention of the break-out from getting medical help - he had been shot and needed treatment as soon as possible. When Dante reached the top, the reception area where new prisoners were welcomed and told that their captors hoped they would enjoy their stay, he was asked to stop so he could be taken to the Facility's doctor. Five seconds later all three humans in the room were dead and Dante ran outside, stole a car, drove a while, dumped it in a nearby river and started running. He should be back in London in less than a day.

[Max]

Unaware of the impending trouble headed to London, Max perched high atop a building. It was dusk, meaning that for now she was safe from sighting. On the corner of the old church, she looked rather like a gargoyle. But a rather unusual one, were one to look closer. Crouched, one hand on her knee and the other balancing her weight by resting atop the cool concrete edge, Max gazed out on the city like some strange angelic guardian. Max was far from an angel, though her appearance would suggest otherwise. Bred in perfect genetic conditions, the girl was pretty, her face smoothly symmetrical and unmarred. Her dark blonde hair was swept back in a loose braid, a few halfhazard strands wisping around her face. Her stormy gray blue eyes were comfortable in the dimming light, for she had better night vision than normal humans. Tall for the age of sixteen, she was slender and wiry. Now, not having to worry about curious eyes, she let her most remarkable trait spread free. After decades of genetic testing and millions of mutated embryos, Max was created. Supposedly the next link in the human race, Max was bred for strength, intelligence, and most remarkably, flight. For Max had wings, large and long, black as the night that loomed on the horizon. And now, silhouetted against the purple dusk, the dark outline of the winged girl looked like some renegade angel escaped from the cathedral below.

Sighing, Max sunk back on her heels, waiting for night to fall completely. Her life was one of secrecy and constant running. However, all the running had to be done under cover of night. Max was constantly hunted, and for that reason she had to be especially careful of flying. The thing about creating a human who had the capacity for far more intelligence than any normal human was that eventually your test subject would escape. And escape she had. But the scientists who had spent so long on her success would not let her slip away so easily. They had begun to hire professionals to hunt her. Assassins, mostly. Though they never tried to have her killed. No, a multi million dollar girl was too valuable to just kill. If they caught her, they would no doubt put her under harsh conditions for the rest of her miserable captive life. She didn't want that. So now she waited, waited for night, waited to be free again. There was nothing of real interest going on below; just people wandering on the streets, scurrying to their cozy homes to escape the looming night. The night life was about to emerge. From the alleys, the bars, and all corners of the dank and dirty people emerged. At least, most of them were people. Max knew from observation that there was more to most of these night people than met the eye. Soon she would be one of them, restricted to true life at night, unable to emerge under the sun. It was a hard life to be on the run like a common criminal.

[Dante]

Dante arrived in London in the evening, despite running miles he was not particularly tired, but his legs were starting to ache. The City was mostly dark, but many windows cast light out into the streets and the street lights cast an eerie orange glow over the pavements and roads. Dante had lured and killed a man in an alleyway, taking his coat to hide the two DEagles and the M16 as well as get some money. As he passed by a house, he looked in and saw his own face on the television, as well as the CCTV footage of him killing those in the reception area. Dante smiled and laughed, thinking about how he was even more famous now. Apparantly he was now third on Britain's Most Wanted list and eighteenth on the world's Most Wanted list, not high enough.

Dante had to find somewhere to stay where his host wouldn't care about hiding a fugitive, either that or sleep on the roof. Dante decided it was easier to sleep on the roof, and stay there during the day - going out in public during the day was too dangerous and he needed to rest now. He looked around him, checking that nobody was following him or even looking at him before he stepped into an alley, walked to the end of it and began to climb the wall, jumping from crag to crag, window to window, wall to wall until he reached the top, rolling over and sitting up in a crouching position. Dante looked up, there was somebody else on the roof. On impulse he grabbed the M16 inside his coat, but stopped before he drew it. The other person was a girl, a fairly young one, but there was something un-human about her, then Dante saw what it was - she had wings. For a milli-second Dante thought she was an angel and so he began to draw his gun, then he saw that her wings were black, not the usual white of angels. "Who are you?" Dante asked, standing and finally deciding to draw the M16 but to leave it pointing at the ground, he could aim and fire in less than a second and this was just a human girl, even if she was an abnormal one - there was no danger.

[Max]

Hearing a strange scraping sound, Max turned, pinpointing the noise at the side of the house, wings flaring slightly if flight was necessary. No worries, she told herself, just a cat climbing up to yowl at the moon. Who would be out on a roof at this time of night? But her reassurances died in her thoughts as a man emerged, rolling combat style into a crouching position, mirroring her own pose. Before Max could hide or fly, he had spotted her. His hand flew to the inside of his coat. So he had a gun. What else would you reach for inside your jacket? A knife was kept on your belt or your pocket. By his eyes, she knew he had seen her wings. He stood, taking a defensive role as he kept the gun pointed at the roof of the house. By his poise, she knew he was primed for attack. This was no novice around guns. He knew what he was doing. For now, it would be best if she made no sudden movements, for someone like this would shoot her and ask questions later. But ask questions he did.

Max had decided that he was no doubt an escapee or convict of some kind. Who else would carry a loaded M16 around? Considering that he was on the roof, he did not want to be seen, meaning that he probably had stolen that gun. He was not after her, for then he would know who she was and attempt a capture. His look at seeing her had been of genuine surprise; he had not known she was here. And it worked in her favor that he apparently did not view her as a threat. A wise choice on his part, albeit an unknown one. When Max was challenged or treated as dangerous, very perilous did she become. That was what happened when you attempted to take on someone who had a unique fighting style consisting of almost all known forms of hand-to-hand combat. For now she stood as well, tucking in her wings a bit more. Her slender form was wired for fight or flight. Considering that he had a gun, she would more than likely choose the former if it became necessary. "I am nobody, just on the run like you," she finally answered, her eyes on his warily, her body stance ready for attack yet unchallenging, "Who are you?" No need to aggravate an escaped convict with a gun.

[Dante]

"I'm the one who's face is being broadcasted all over the country because he broke out of one of the most secure prisons in the country." Dante said, "But you haven't answered my question; Who, and more to the point, what, are you?" Before the girl could answer, Dante picked up a sound, a distant whirring, like a fan but louder and faster and therefore very likely to be bigger. His head shot around, searching the land for the noise, when he heard it was not coming from the ground, but from the air. Dante's eyes flicked up, scanning the sky but the clouds were in just the wrong position.

A blast of light blazed through the clouds as a searchlight swung over. Dante flattened on the rooftop, the slate pressing against his face. When the light went, he looked up, momentarily forgetting the girl on the roof with him. Dante swore as the Police Helicopter flew off, passing another one as it did. "Are you running from the Police too or do you think I've been seen?"

[Max]

Somebody was rather proud of the fact that he had broken out, Max deduced. After all, it was rare to just go broadcasting that you are dangerous and apparently intelligent enough to break out of a top security prison. But then again, Max had done something similar to that feat. She could understand his elation. The whirring noise made her prick up her ears. She had noticed it a small while back, a buzzing in her sensitive hearing, but it had gotten louder. As he began to hear it and look around, Max was already hitting the deck. After being pursued by every means possible, she knew what a helicopter sounded like. And this was where her wings came in handy. As she dropped silently, her arms covering the back of her head, her wings did likewise, sheilding her pale skin and blonde hair from detection with their black shadows. She heard and felt the thud as the man hit the roof as well. Good thing the chopper would mask any noise they might hear in the house. Crouched low, her keen eyes scanned the clouded skies, waiting for more helicopters.

"If you had been see, they would have shot at you and gotten you by now," she said distractedly, still watching the skies. Turning to face the man, her eyes dark gray, she glared at him. "Thanks a lot. Now I can't fly either. And no, they are not searching for me. Helicopters are far too cumbersome and loud to catch me. Tipping her face back to the skies, she assured herself that for now, no whirring searchlights were scanning. If they wanted this man, fine. But Max did not want to be caught in the process. Even if it wasn't the scientists, she didn't want to be seen period. They would know where she was then. They always knew.

[Dante]

"Well, if I've made it so you can't fly, then I'm very sorry, but I didn't immediately take to the idea of spending the rest of eternity in a concrete bunker being fed scraps of left over porridge and sleeping on the floor because it's more comfortable than the bed." Dante said, sarcastilcally. Dante thought it was amusing how far the government took it when he promoted Anarchy, surely being put in prison for life would be slightly over the top but then again, 'life' wasn't very long for humans, but for Dante it was eternity... Probably.

"Don't think of me as a dangerous criminal, I wasn't imprisoned for anything nearly as bad as what everybody else in that prison was imprisoned for, but the Government didn't want it happening again, so they locked me up in a top security prison." Dante said, "The problem is, when they lock up somebody much more intelligent than them, they'll eventually have an escape on their hands, and when the escapee is stronger, faster, more intelligent and more skilled than them, they have a big problem."

[Max]

Finally Max smiled. This was something she understood. "Then you and I are in somewhat of the same situation," she deduced, keeping one eye on him and one eye on the skies. After all, he did still have that gun. Even though she healed faster and could withstand more damage than the average human, she had no desire to be shot. "I understand captivity; at least you had room to move. The only way we differ is that I did nothing to justify my imprisonment. I was not even born," she finished, turning her palms upwards and shrugging her shoulders in a 'go figure' sort of stance. As strange as it would seem, Max wasn't really born, either. She had been in a test tube and removed from support when old enough. No labor, no womb. Which was perhaps the reason why she never had felt true peace. Even from the moment she had been concieved, there was no comfortable snugness in a loving mother, no quite steady heartbeat to lull her asleep. Just machines and clear glass.

"So if you are not as dangerous as you say you are, then how did you come by that gun?" Max asked pointedly, crossing her arms and quirking a single eyebrow at him. "Killed someone to get it, didn't you?" With how comfortable he was with his abilities, she had no doubt that he had to have killed someone. You had to in order to break out of a high-security prison. Unless you were a master strategist and skilled enough to escape detection. Which was how she had escaped. No big noticable plot for her. Max was subtle and smooth, and she had been gone for an hour or two before they realized it. In Max's mind, that was the best kind of escape. "What is it exactly that you did to get in?" Max queried, curious about this stranger. It was not often you met someone intelligent enough to break out of prison. Either that or someone who possessed pure dumb luck. She wished to know as much as she could about this man, whoever he was. Her inbred curiosity wouldn't allow her to do otherwise.

[Dante]

"I did not kill anybody for this gun." Dante said, "I only kill to save." The second part was true, but the first was a lie. "My imprisonment was also unjustified, I was locked away in a top security prison for trying to save people, to save the entire country from their hypocritical Government. They talk of 'Human Rights' and how they are giving people their rights but all you have to do is look down below us on the street and you see violations of it, and then look at what was done to me, and to you. I just told the country that they should not answer to the authority of the Government and the Church, but to something much higher than that. They should answer to the authority that I answer to... The Government didn't like that and neither did the Church."

Dante paused, scanning the skies again, the helicopters had gone, at least for now. "If you don't trust me when I have the gun, you can have it." Dante threw the M16 on the floor in front of her. "Now, what's your name?"

[Max]

Max listened impassively. In all truth, she really didn't care what he had been imprisoned for. The question had been to see how dangerous he truly was, and also if he was mentally unstable. He was not, as she had guessed. In fact, he was quite rational. You never could tell with these escaped convict types. Her sensitive ears were unharassed by the whirring of chopper blades for now. Still, she did not relax her guard for a second. If it wasn't the police, it would be the scientists. They had sent a professional assassin after her last time. Who knows what they would pursue her with this time. She was a bit edgy, for two weeks had passed with no incident of recapture. Something could jump out at any time. So he killed to save. An interesting concept. If you killed a person, how could you then save them? By the way the man talked, it did not sound like he was worried about thier physical safety, but rather their mental and perhaps spiritual safety. Well after you killed them there would be no saving their souls or mind, to be sure. This man thought on a most interesting path. And not for a second did she believe that he hadn't killed anyone. The man's demeanor spoke of imminent death to those who opposed him.

When he moved to throw the gun down, Max tensed, her eyes dialating slightly, ready for attack. But when the sudden movement ended in the gun landing at her feet, she relaxed her defensive movement. She did not pick up the gun, nor did she give it back. It would lie there in neutral territory for now. She could use a gun, and quite well, but preferred not to. To much weight when flying, for the most part. Plus, then you had to worry about bullets and cleaning it. A hassle when you didn't have money or a base of operations. "I am Max," she finally stated, "and as interesting as your reasons may be, they do not quite apply to me. Neither the government or the church has done me any harm. The people I deal with are above both, it seems. What is your name?" Max was still edgy about being on this exposed rooftop with helicopters flying about. She would have to be on the move soon.

[Dante]

OOC: Sorry for the short post, I couldn't think of much to write...

Dante noticed her tension as he threw the gun. "Me saying it probably won't make any difference, but don't worry; I'm not going to kill anybody unless I have to, especially somebody as special as you." He paused, staring out over the city, "I'm called Dante, though officially I have no name. In fact, officially I don't exist." Dante lost himself in thought, wondering about Max. 'Special' was the right word for her, she was definitely not normal, yet somehow Dante thought that 'strange' or 'wierd' were not the right words to use. After a long pause, he finally spoke, "So who is after you, then?" Dante quickly looked around and, hearing helicopters behind the clouds in the distance, spoke again, "We should get off the roof before those helicopters come back. Take the gun." Dante moved, crouching, to the side of the roof before disappearing off the edge, only the small thud as he landed perfectly below gave evidence that he had not vanished.

[Max]

Max sighed, rolling her eyes and blowing a strand of hair off her forehead. Men were so erratic and overly decisive sometimes. Snap judgements could get you into trouble sometimes. But this time she knew that getting off the roof was necessary. Taking the gun into her hands, she spread her wings and jumped straight up. With one hard beat she hovered in the air. There was no need to alarm the people below with sounds of footsteps on the roof. The cool weight of the gun rested comfortably in her capable hands as she cleared the roof and landed next to Dante, rolling once and coming up, gun ready, in a perfect combat move. Fortunately, there was no need for such things. Standing fully upright, she sighed again, her keen vision seeing nothing of danger in the gloom. Shifting her backpack so that it did not chafe against her wings, she folded them tight against her back. If anyone were to spot them, it would be best if they did not see her wings. "I do not exist either, by all rights I am not possible," Max explained in a low voice, keeping her eyes and ears vigilant. "I am pursued by some of the smartest minds in the world, although half of them are recorded as dead. All have one thing in common; illegal genetic testing." Pointing the gun downwards, she held it loosely, ready to snap it up and shoot if anything were to warrent such an action. "We should get under cover," she decided, "or at least keep moving." Staying in one place would kill you. Max knew this for a fact, especially considering the tiny tracking device at the base of her wing. It was best to not stay where they could pinpoint her.

[Dante]

OOC: Sorry... Again... Complete block... Took me about six hours to write this (Exaggeration )... Sorry...

BIC: Dante looked down, staring at a single spot of scuffed ground, lost in thought. "I know a guy who owns a hotel on the other side of London, he's a scumbag but I think I can get him to give me, us, a free room, if you want. You can take my jacket to hide your wings and discard the M16 here." Dante shrugged his jacket off and tossed it to Max, "There are two DEagles inside it if you need them."

Dante thought for a moment before speaking again, "Let's just hope that in this light I don't get seen." The dark clouds that had previously hidden the helicopters was now almost completely covering the sky, making the dim starlight completely disappear. A large shadow was cast over the city, the lights in most windows had gone out and only the glimmering light from the street lamps remained, illuminating the pavement and the roads below them in a futile effort to ward off the invading darkness.

[Max]

((s'okay. Happens to everyone))

Catching his jacket without really thinking about it, Max kept her strange blue gray eyes vigilant. You never knew what lurked in the dark. Everything was suspect, and all the assumptions normal people would make were most likely untrue. Nothing was as it seemed. Such as this Dante. By law, he was a criminal and a murderer. Even if he had not been such upon going into prison, he was now. Yet he was strangely not bothered by her wings, or at least he didn't show it. Of course, the fact that both were on the run and both technically didn't exist helped to stave off any overmuch curiosity or hostility. Taking off her backpack, she set it beside her, the M16 resting next to it. Putting on his jacket, which was a bit large for her, she fastened it tightly around herself. Wings tucked in tightly, she looked every inch the normal girl. A bit tall for her age, maybe, but other than that her appearance was normal. At least until you looked into her eyes. Something else lurked there, wisdom brought by suffering. Never had her eyes sparkled with childlike innocence. Some would say there was something morose about them, a shadow over the blue. Hoisting the backpack, she left the gun on the pavement. Her fingerprints were on it now, but seeing as she had no criminal record and, in fact, was unknown to all people except for the select few that created her, she was safe. It would only serve to baffle law enforcement even more. The solid weight of the guns rested against her thighs. She would not need them, not now. "Well, best get going while it is still dark," Max said in a low voice, keen for any sign of attack. For now they were in a shaky state of safety. It would be best to take advantage of that.

[Dante]

"Then let's go." Dante said, and with that he stepped out of the alley and started walking along the pavement. He wondered if Max trusted him enough to walk next to him, or if she would prefer to follow along behind. They had only just met, but she was the one with the DEagles and all Dante had was his fists. A single drop of water fell from the sky, landing with a soft thud on the pavement behind them. Dante tensed before realising what it was and relaxing again, listening for more. More came, landing softly on the ground, testing it's defenses before unleashing the assault of millions. The rain fell heavily, for which Dante was glad - nobody would want to stay outside in this, which meant that there would be a lot less people to see him and what's more; if the wind got any stronger it would be too dangerous for the helicopters to stay in the air and they would have to land. Dante hurried on, through the pounding rain towards the relative safety and comfort of the hotel.