Thompson recovers
He leaned against the door post, looking across at the figure of Agent Thompson lying restrained on the medical table. His body was held down by metal bands around his wrists and ankles, another looped across his waist. His pale bare torso looked almost white under the neon lights, Jon ran his fingers over the tranquilliser gun he held in his hand.
The agents shirts and long trench coat lay neatly folded on the medical table next to him. There was a white bandage around his neck and there were a couple of long red cables which stretched were attached to his chest and led to a beeping machine which measured his heart rate. It was beeping steadily sounding loud in the empty room, why did he have to guard the stupid guy ... he was supposed to be spending the evening with Joan.
Don't frown, you never know who might be falling in love with your smile
He was back in Lost Angels "its only a scratch, you should recover in no time" johnson stood over the concrete slab upon which he lay, his leg bandaged from the knee to the ankle, another bandage round his lower back. A few hours before they had discovered nest of demons in a cave off one of the tunnels of the sewer system, their attack had been sucsessful, clearing out all of the unholy creatures however during the battle Thompson had been thrown into one of the supporting columns, causing a minor cave-in, he now lay unable to move the lowr half of his body due to damage to his back.
as the memory of the event played through his mind he remembered he was not in Lost Angels, he was prisoner in the Initiative, either that or dead. his eyes opened, he could see a ceiling with lights, perhaps he was still in the cells, but no ... the lights were different there. The pain in his neck was evident when he tried to move his head, it rushed down his right side stopping him instantly, he settled for moving his eyes around. as his eyes flitted around the room they alighted on the figure of Jon guarding him, he did not know why he was surprised, he had felt the guy as soon as he woke up.
ignoring him for a second he looked down at his arms, they were restrained, he could also feel the cold steel around his waist as well, he looked at what he could see of his chest, surprised at what it looked like, he had never really noticed the muscules before, though a tan would probably shown them off better. As he studied the cables attached to his chest he remembered with alarm the pendant he kept within his shirt pocket.
forgetting about the pain for a second he moved his head to the side, his eyes frantically searching the pile of his clothes, sure enough the pendant was lying neatly on top of the pile, they must have removed it from within the shirt, its silver chain glinting underneath the bright lights of the medical room. it was an intricate silver cross inlaid with small unknown gems with a large one running down the long beam of the cross, supposedly a source of magical power when worn, he had never worn it though and it virtually lived in his shirt pocket, it was the only thing his parents had left him before they died and he was afraid that by using it he might damage it in some way also he was unsure of what it did, apart from glowed in the dark, he was unaware that when worn it near doubles the wearers physical or magical abilities. next to it was a set of battered dog tags, he was not interested in them, returning his head to its former position he looked towards Jon
"any chance of removing these restraints?" the words were forced out, his voice dry and throaty, he sensed that the young agent had a dislike for him "look" he said before Jon could reply "it is taking all the energy i have just to speak to you right now, i couldnt escape if i wanted to" he paused "what with the bloodloss and all the drugs you lot have invariably pumped into me, the chances of me causing you any trouble are slim" talking was beginning to hurt, he looked back to the pendant, it meant a lot to him, and he couldnt bear to be separated from it.
He extended the fingers on the hand nearest to it, concentrating hard on making it float towards him, it was no use, he was not strong enough to move it at all. he sighed, looking back towards Jon "you could at least give me back my cross" his words were slow "please" he wished he was back in the cell, even though it was tiny and he ran the risk of giving in to his claustrophobia and having a panic attack, if the truth be known it was probably that which caused him to break out in the first place.
Edited by: gunfielddan at: 9/13/03 4:03 am
Re: re: Thompson recovers
Jon eyed the agent who lay restrained upon the bed looking dubiously at the metal bands which encircled the man, after his escape from the glass prison he’d been secured in, Jon wasn’t sure the restraints he’d been placed in would do any good. He shifted his position uncomfortably, maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t spending the night with Joan, he would be surprised if he could have slept with her after what Thompson had done to him earlier.
Jon glowered at Thompson, his fingers running down the barrel of the gun as if tempting the agent to try and break out “no chance at all” he said rather grumpily “wouldn’t want you running round trying to let cat out now would we?” he paused as the agent continued “I’m not taking any chances thanks”
Jon’s eyes flicked over to the cross which was lying upon the pile of Thompson’s clothes, he casually moved over to pick it up, dangling the beautiful object from the end of its chain “what this old thing?” the cross turned catching the light, he smirked, dropping it back onto the pile of clothes “you can have it back when you’re told you can”.
Re: re: Thompson recovers
The news that he was not going to get unrestrained and that he was also not going to get the pendant either did not sit too well with the agent, he instantly began to plan his escape, at least from the table. “Of course” he said in a sarcastic manner “how stupid of me to forget that you have no authority at all” he was attempting to wind Jon up to distract him from the fact that he was wriggling his right hand free of the restraint round his wrist but it would be a slow painful task due to the restraints being so tight.
“You’re just an insignificant brainless zombie really” he continued sounding as serious as he could through the pain of his hand squashing through the steel band “perhaps you should get your girlfriend, she seemed more authoritative” his hand was nearly through as he quickly squeezed as much information he could from the boy’s mind “does she make you call her Sir?” he added in the most innocent tone he could muster.
His hand nearly popped out, he tried to conceal the fact that it was moving “perhaps you should just shoot me with that thing and save a lot of hassle, that way you could go have your fun with your little tart, and I wont have to lie here looking at you and having to listen to all your thoughts” he spoke quickly, trying his best to remember a paralysis spell he could use in a short space of time “I guess you weren’t important enough to get one of those chips either, pity, if I have to see you and her any more I may have to kill myself, perhaps you could think of something else for a change” it was true, with Jon being the only open mind in close proximity to him, there was little in the boy’s mind that he didn’t see or hear, he wished secretly that he could shut his powers off sometimes.
Re: re: Thompson recovers'You’re just an insignificant brainless zombie really.' Jon wasn't good at taking personal put downs and not to this degree. He slammed the gun down onto the nearby counter, his face angry.
'Will you just keep your voice down mate.' The words weren't that nasty but there was a note to his voice that said he wasn't too happy with Thompson. He gave something close to a growl and picked up the gun again, stuffing the weapon in his belt. Why did he have to get stupid guard duties when he could have been training or with Joan. He glowered at the restained man and slouched over to the other side of the room dropping into a steel chair that was positioned against the wall.
ooc: Sorry only short Dan but I'm not very well and I'm hungry I'll try and do a better post next time
Don't frown, you never know who might be falling in love with your smile
Re: re: Thompson recovers'Will you just keep your voice down mate.'
the restrained agent turned his head towards Jon, watching him slouch off "why should i?" he said calmly "i mean, i'm tied to a table with a hole in my neck and god knows what drugs running through my system" he paused looking back to the ceiling "so tell me, why should i care about what i say, and how loud i say it?" he drummed his fingers on the table, hoping it was annoying to the boy on the chair
*perhaps i should talk like this then* he spoke directly to Jon's mind, it took some effort in his weakened state but he couldnt care less *so what are the initiative going to do with me then, you do realise that till you undo these restraints i am not going to stop talking*
he paused and once again tried to remove his hand from the restraint around his wrist *look, i will give you my word that if you release me i will not attempt to escape for my recovery period, that gives you at least half a day of peace* he exaggerated on the recovery time, he healed fast but half a day was too little time for him to be fully recovered.
*you do realise that to break my word would bring great dishonour, that is not something i would risk, there are codes of conduct that i must follow to retain my knighthood, something which i spent years earning* the boy was beginning to annoy him now, he wished he could fight something to calm himself down, maybe Jon would get so fed up with him that he'd make the mistake of challenging him to a one on one fight in the training rooms.
ooc: soz its so short but theres little for thompson to do, aftert all he is tied to a table unable to move (need to do something about that, perhaps drag him back to cells or somewhere for interrogation)!
Re: Thompson recovers
OOC: ok, bored now, I’m moving him myself cos I have nothing to post while he's on this table
The door to the medical room opened to reveal a large figure of a man, not dressed in initiative uniform, the only indication as to him being a member of them came from a small label on his shirt. "Oh great, more soldiers" Thompson spoke sarcastically "looks like you are going to be relieved after all"
T1 walked slowly into the room, ignoring the captives words, he turned his head mechanically towards Jon "i have orders to return the prisoner to the cells" his voice was slow and emotionless. Without waiting for a reply he walked to the centre of the room where Thompson was restrained to the table.
The agent lay quietly now as T1 slowly removed the restraints, he was surprised that this new soldier was releasing him without sedating him first, quietly he planned to himself. His eyes drifted towards a equally surprised looking Jon as the soldier removed the band around his waist, his arms and legs were now free, as the final restraint came off he forced his tired muscles to move. Quickly he slid sideways off the table, his legs hitting the floor running, grabbing hold of the pile of clothes with his hands as he landed.
T1 took a step back as the man ran round the table, his processor quickly adjusting to the sudden movement as the man evaded a dart that flew from where Jon had been sitting moments before. With a surprisingly swift motion he blocked the mans fist as he tried to barge past, deflecting it away then grabbing around his throat.
Feeling the robots cold gloved hands close around his throat Thompson began to struggle, he lashed out, his fist making a horrible cracking noise as it connected with T1's metal head. Ignoring the punch T1 lifted his arm till the mans feet were off the ground and held on till the struggling stopped. "He’s not dead" the cold metallic words directed at Jon as he picked up the clothes the man had grabbed with his free hand.
"My orders were clear" he seemed to speak only in short sentences, giving information as if answering questions, he turned and walked out of the room slowly, Thompson’s unconscious body hanging limply from his right hand, his feet dragging slightly on the ground, by some miracle his wound had not re-opened and the bandage was still in place.
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