Oleander Eshel | 19 | Male | Mind Control&Regen|M:NA

Ollie was perched on his bed, the lights overhead already shining bright. Like every morning he knew the scientists would be coming by soon to let him out. His fingers scrunched into the thin sheets on his bed in anticipation. After years of being here he still hated it, there was no calming his rage against the facility that held him captive. The only reason he was settled or not causing problems most of the time was Arthur. When his friend wasn’t around though, there was still a likely chance Ollie would get himself into unneeded trouble. Placing his head on his knees, he let his mind wander. Drifting thoughts fluttered through his head, mostly those of boredom. A few about cooking, or taking away dishes as they distributed the meals to their captives.

Ollie’s meal was at the end of his bed on a small tray, and his muzzle was with the scientist who had taken it off. One of the only free times he had to talk aloud was always in isolation. Unless they drugged him and sent him outside. Those times weren’t as often, and frankly he hated it. He barely remembered what had happened or who he interacted with while he was drugged. Regardless of him hating it, he knew he was always well taken care of. Arthur was always nearby, and when he wasn’t, Deacon was.

Picking at the food in front of him Ollie ate until he heard a knock at the door. Followed by two scientists entering. In one of their hands was the muzzle. The other scientist stayed close to the door, but was obviously ready to close it at any second. As the scientist closed in, Ollie decided it was too early in the morning to start being a brat. He did as they asked, brushing his teeth and washing his face before sitting on the bed once more with his back facing them. The muzzle was slid underneath his jaw and then pulled up to cover his mouth. The leather straps were tightened and then locked shut.

The scientists left just as soon as they came. He’d have the opportunity to get dressed before heading outside. His hands brushed against the back of his neck where the collar and straps lay. He always checked, just in case to see if anything was unlatched or loose. Like always though, everything was secured and not coming off. Rolling his eyes, Ollie stood up and began to get changed. Gray cargo pants and a thin navy shirt, were his go to, which was what he found himself dressing in today. He didn’t bother with the mop of hair on his head, just let it be. Settling back onto his bed, Ollie waited for the doors to open again.

Deacon Beckett || 20 || Male || Illusions/Lie Detection || Mentions: N/A

“Oo, baby, do you know what that’s worth?”

Every morning, 6:45 a.m. promptly, Deacon quietly hummed to the same song. It’s far from being a song he actually enjoyed, but he found a sick sense of humor in it.

“Oo, heaven is a place on Earth.”

The song looped in substitution of his thoughts, blue hues casting to the clock in his room. It was a simple request when he first transitioned to the ‘Young Adult’ group, and one provided. The male had already peeled himself from the clutches of the large, hideously beige comforter resting currently in a small heap on his bed. Being up earlier provided a better chance to take the time required for Deacon to complete his sacred morning routine. So casting one last glance to the clock, 6:55, quiet steps then carried him to his shower. At least the water’s warm here. A refreshing peppermint fragrance filled the cramped quarters amid the 10 minute shower. Deacon is a creature keen on retaining his personal hygiene and overall cleanliness, thus the morning routine being so sacred, and religiously practiced every morning.

“They say in heaven, love comes first-”

Shower aside, the male garbed himself in a charcoal gray T-shirt, an open black hoodie, and black jeans with a few smaller, stylish tears in the fabric. Deacon may not be a fashion guru, but he knew what complimented his figure best. Threading his fingers delicately through the dampened brown-blonde ombre locks of his hair, taming it into his preferred slicked back style, the sound of his door being opened echoed in his ears. Just as quickly as they had come, the scientist exited, though Deacon knew what the individual left behind. Removing himself from the mirror, blue eyes met the tray seated on his desk. Does anyone enjoy these pitiful excuses of a breakfast burrito? Distaste ensnared his features, a slight scrunch of his nose given as the food overshadowed his peppermint scent. A dissatisfied huff of air pushed past Deacon’s lips as he ultimately walked to the desk, leaned against it, and began eating. 7:35, what a time to be alive! His thoughts chorused in a mockingly cheerful fashion.

“We’ll make heaven a place on Earth.”

If he wanted to torture the ears of surrounding entities, Deacon could easily give the illusion of the song pouring out from his room. A tempting thought really, though he wasn’t looking forward to an influx of his ever present migraine to envelop him this early in the morning by practicing a larger scale use of his ability. That’s what the collar fitted beyond snugly around his neck was good for, inducing a steady headache to forever break his concentration. For so long Deacon had found the sensation maddening, and now? He bitterly accepted it as a part of his everyday life. Sourly he could mutter strings of curses should his headache worsen, though such dampened moods he saves for solitude. Drawing a breath of rehearsed positivity, Deacon finished the last of his meal before shuffling back to the location of where his bathroom amenities resided so he could bathe his mouth in a peppermint cleaning of its own.

Ending his morning routine with making his bed, his tidy endeavors were short lived as he dramatically laid himself back on the bed covers, slapping his forearm over his eyes to shield them briefly from the lights that shone brightly above. If heaven is as bright as this room, I’m shooting for hell. Surely such a place has pockets of serene shadows amid it's never ending flames. It’s best for Deacon to cleanse himself of lingering pessimistic thoughts, knowing his otherwise optimistic, radiant personality would be beaming on display in the Freedom Zone shortly. The youngest ones seemed to appreciate his willingness to indulge in a childish nature though, especially with Deacon taking pride in bringing some children’s fantasies to life with his illusions. It certainly makes playing ‘the floor is lava’ with Deacon interesting. ‘Zombie tag’ as well.

“Oo, heaven is a place on Earth.”

Removing his arm from his eyes, Deacon sat back up with a theatrical sigh. Well, currently he was bored. It shouldn’t be too long now until he was released into the Freedom Zone. With his “favorite” song releasing him from its catchy chorus, he stapled his knuckles beneath his chin in patient wait. Glancing down to his feet, he hummed as he came to the realization that equipping himself with socks and shoes might prove beneficial in his leave of this room to come. Simple white ankle socks and black high tops were the last of his attire, leaving Deacon to boredly busy himself with redoing his white shoelaces. “Who decided velcro, light up shoes were just for children,” Deacon scoffed to himself as he continued in his task to redo his shoelaces, “I’d kill for a pair.” Envy isn’t a good look on most, but Deacon has made it very clear for a solid year now that he’s a firm believer in light up shoes for adults. And that he desires a snazzy pair for himself. He has yet to see his request be fulfilled though. Rude. Can't a man have a boast worthy pair of shoes?

Kenzington Elrod | 25 | Female | Therianthropy/Stun | Mentions: N/A

Trees came into view as a small feline ran into the forest. Her paws kicked up fresh soil and her fur brushed against bushes. The air was cool and crisp and birds chirped overhead. Free, the small feline was finally free, free from her worries and fears. She stopped at a pond and drank the cool liquid feeling refreshed as it slid down her throat. Lifting her head she heard a faint sound in the distance growing louder and louder.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP!” Kenzie groaned, rolling over to shut the alarm off. She felt a sharp pain shoot through her head as she rolled onto her side. Great a headache Groaning the young adult closed her eyes and placed the pillow over her head in hopes of falling back asleep and into the dream world again.

Unfortunately Kenzie soon found those hopes were in vain as the headache and the sound of the alarm constantly replaying in her head were enough to cause her to get up and start her morning routine.

Opening her eyes once again, Kenzie let them adjust to the light before she looked around. The cell or more of a cage as Kenzie felt it was, seemed fairly bright for it only being around 6:30 in the morning. On her drab concrete walls hung the all too familiar posters of animals, forests, and another of her favorite band “Rascal flatts”. She stared straight ahead of her at the long dresser covered in Knick knacks and all different kinds of books she had read before and still read over and over. The cage-like bars on Kenzie’s cell reminded her that she was not free and in fact still a prisoner to this dreadful facility.

Sighing she climbed out of bed, folding up the ancient grey comforter and laying it at the edge of the bed. Half asleep Kenzie walked into the cramped bathroom and turned on the shower. The smell of Burt's bees baby shampoo filled the air, yes Kenzie enjoyed the stuff even if it was made for little children, after all it was about the only request she could get filled.

After her shower Kenzie changed into some navy blue ripped jeans and pulled on a black t-shirt with a calico cat imprint on it. Lastly she pulled on some ankle socks and her beat up sneakers. Checking the time Kenzie saw it was now around 7:15 and assumed the scientists might arrive at any moment to deliver her breakfast and potentially take her to testing, although she hoped the testing would come much later.

While Kenzie had been going through her morning routine her headache seemed to disappear but she soon found that it came back once she had time to actually sit and think about something. With a sigh of displeasure she curled herself into a ball hugging her knees to her chest and soon found herself in her favored form of a calico cat.

The sound of the door rattling caused the calico to sit up, looking at whoever had entered. As always it was one of the scientists bringing her food. She stifled a laugh as she saw a young man walk in dressed in protective gear leaving nothing uncovered but their face. Clearly the scientist was scared of her, as he should be.

The calico waited for him to leave then walked up to the tray, which was left at the edge of the bed. Sniffing the food she hissed her displeasure. Who even likes these disgusting things anyway? She asked herself, shoving the stale looking breakfast burrito away, there was no way Kenzie was going to eat that foul stuff.

Curling herself into a ball once more she closed her eyes and waited for the scientists to come back and take her to the freedom zone. Quite frankly Kenzie didn't feel like going there, she would have to wear gloves in her human form and probably be monitored the whole time because apparently stunning someone was “dangerous” as if. Nevertheless it was what they thought and it wasn't easy to change their minds, not after her little episode the other day.