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GROUP:Sector
AGE:36 yrs old
HEIGHT:6'9"
GIFT:Body Hardening / Super Strength
OCCUPATION:Probationary Trainee
WRITTEN:6 posts
POINTS:
Post by Billy Bush on Jun 9, 2024 0:26:15 GMT -5
“Until you are picked up by our contact at The Sector you are still property of the California DOC. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” grunted Billy.
“Yes what inmate?”
Billy scowled. “Yes sir.”
“That's better. Until you are handed off you will remain silent, you will remain still and you will do what you are told when you are told. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“I've been briefed on your special gifts. Sounds like bullshit to me but just in case it isn't, you should know that the men escorting you are all armed with a high caliber, semi-automatic rifles that have been loaded with armor piercing rounds. If you speak without being spoken to they will shoot. If you move with out being told they will shoot. If you so much as fart in a way the smells suspicious they will shoot. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, you're not as stupid as you look.”
It was 4 am when the armored prisoner transport vehicle pulled up outside the barbed wire gates of Sector HQ before the sun had even risen. Hours earlier Billy had been yanked out of his cell and, after a strip search and a pleasant little lecture from the warden, stuffed into the back of the truck.
The upside was that he'd been given a freshly cleaned, bright orange jump suit. Somebody wanted him to look nice for his meeting he mused. The downside was that the new uniform came with some jewelry.
Solid bar cuffs were shackled to his ankles and wrists and a metal collar was slapped around his thick neck. A heavy metal chain was then attached from the bar on his ankles to the bar on his wrists. Then another chain was run from the top of his wrists to his collar. Combined the chains had just enough length for the massive man to stand up as long as he hunched over and bent his knees a bit.
Billy Bush had no idea how far they'd driven from the prison to get to the HQ or how long the trip had really taken. He was too tired from sleep deprivation, and too lost in thought with too many mixed emotions about too many things to worry about the unimportant details. They would tell him when they got there.
Besides, even if he wanted to, it wasn't like he could look out the window to see where he was going. The nervous looking nineteen year old with the twitchy looking trigger finger had explicitly told him to keep his eyes on the floor. All he could see was the dull gray, diamond patterned platting beneath him.
As the truck slowly came to a stop and steady rumble of the engine ended Billy heard the driver call someone over the truck's CB radio. He figured it was the Sector agents who were supposed to pick him up. There were only two words Billy could make out clearly.
“He's here.”
LAST EDIT: Jun 9, 2024 0:45:07 GMT -5 by Billy Bush
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It's okay not to be okay. It's just fine to be out of your mind.
GROUP:Sector
AGE:35 yrs old
PRONOUNS:he/him
HEIGHT:6' 1"
SEXUALITY:Closet Bisexual
OCCUPATION:Detective of Gifted Affairs
WRITTEN:130 posts
POINTS:
Post by Ferris Felwinter on Jun 30, 2024 12:35:22 GMT -5
The detective wasn't usually at the office so early in the morning, as he was usually the one who pulled morning shift with the kids, waking everyone up and making sure they got to school. But last night, he'd been told he was to help with a special assignment, given a file, and told to be at the office at 3am.
Considering he was just a detective and a very unGifted one, at that, he wasn't sure why he was here. But when the boss waved a bonus and consideration for more interesting work and maybe a promotion, he wasn't about to say no. Especially when she used his request for active cases as blackmail. Never mind that request was about field work. He needed his job more than he needed to like it.
He'd read the file on Billy Bush last night and wasn't sure what to make of why he was here. Ferris' only guess was because someone wanted to embarrass the both of them. But he also supposed, if they were really worried about this guy, Ferris was probably the most expendable. It was such a comforting feeling.
The truck arrived at 4am almost on the dot, a massive, armored thing that could have been out of an action movie. He pushed himself up from the wall of the gate post, nodding when the kid manning it looked to him at the radio call.
"That's the 'delivery' you're here to pick up?" The kid asked.
"Yep."
"You know that truck says DOC on it, right? You know what DOC means?"
"Documentary Organizations of Canada," he deadpanned. "No shit I know what it means."
"Your package is a prisoner? You're joking."
"It's a little funny. Come on, I'm on a time crunch."
The kid turned back to the radio. "Scheduled delivery, gate is opening. Park in the drop off area." Ferris panted the young man on the back and stepped out of the booth to meet the truck at the front steps, hands in his dark dress pants and fixing his matching tie. He hated every day that wasn't casualwear day at work.
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