The Return of the Prozen Knight, Prozen Knight Plot 1: Closed

[Orion]

My name is Hanna Hanna. I was once a infamous, highly honored soldier at the height of my skill, at the height of my Empire's power, and at the top of the world. I was corrupted, blinded from my goals, and the world I knew fell to pieces. My story replays daily in my head, my faults, my mistakes constantly made bare and assault my very core. I cringe the light that enters my cell, embracing the constant darkness as my mind comes to terms with the hundreds, maybe even thousands, I have killed. The guards let me be, even skipping my daily meals, just to let me sulk in my corner. I have lost my way to them, become a fragment left of what become a part of the largest terrorist plan against the world does to a being. They have no idea the suffering, the pain, the torment, and the anger that is just waiting for the day to be unleashed. For as I sit here and cry, sit here and come to terms with my sins, I give birth to a brand new Hanna Hanna, a villain the likes of Zi has never seen before. I have a plan, and all that has happened before shall happen again. This time, the plan shall not fail me, and I shall rise.

The white hair woman smiled to herself, repeating the monologue again and again in her head. She was no longer tormented in her wake, in her sleep, she had forgiven her past; and come to terms with her future. All had been set in place by Hanna, all schemes made from her single, solitary confinement cell. Things were already in motion, the gears of terror once again moving throughout the peaceful world of Zi, and an evil even beyond Hanna was about to once again be unleashed. Zi would have its day, its turning point, when the world would pay for its deeds. Hanna would be there, grinning and winning, riding the tides of destruction across the forever plains of peace. It would be a glorious day, and a day worth waiting for.

After all, what was the rush now, everyone will have their day to die.

- - - - - - - - - -

The clouds roared, unleashing their hailstorm of rain upon the foolish ground beneath them. Thunder crackled as the lightning rolled across the valley, lighting it in the strangest of ways, and only adding to the mystery of its inexplicable aura. The Rare-hertz itself seemed to be supercharged as the torrent of the sky unleashed itself, rain flooding certain veins throughout the valley, and the sky opened all hell in the forever fight to destroy the ground beneath it, two unmovable objects that constantly warred with each other for no give.

From his lockout tower, Sergeant MacIntyre took another puff of his cigarette, pulling it from his overly-chapped lips, feeling the ashes fall onto his over-grown facial hair as he let out a deep puff of smoke. He shuffled his body, the rain coat covering him dropping the small amounts of water it had collected onto the ground. His blue eyes shone against the dark and tortured sky, as a slight grin came to his face. He closed his eyes for a minute, as the large searchlights from the Hertz-prison cast across his box, in a vain attempt to blind the guards of the outer wall, before opening them again as the light passed to search for others.

He took another puff, enjoying the sensation and the fulfillment of his lust for the darned tobacco product. With another deep release of breath, and a partial sigh mixed in, he kicked his boots out off the window sill, drenching water from the open air all over the tower floor, as his chair returned all four legs to as close as the ground as they could get. Sitting up, he checked that his rifle was still in the corner, before checking the opposing corner for his mag light. Satisfied, he dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his heel. He gave a grunt as he reached over for his ten gallon hat, checking the wide-brim for any damage from the storm before placing it atop his head.

He stood up, sighing as he reached down to pick up the flashlight, clicking the button a few times before the stubborn piece decided to illuminate the small box. He then turned to his shot gun, but paused for a moment, leaving it to enjoy the cold and comfort of the corner. He walked to the edge of his six by six foot box, nearly forty feet off the ground, surveying the large base and prison built into the side of one of the veins of the valley. Beneath him was a triple layered, moat-included, high-powered electric fence strong enough to cut even a Zoid down from shock. From there a field of grass stretched to the hangar and quarter buildings, with the base emerging at the cliff-side. Behind that, deep beneath at the very least a mile of rock, stood the prison for the most foulest and horrible criminals to ever walk Zi.

How he ended up here, in this horrible position as a yard watchmen, was beyond his logic. He liked it though, working in a place that didn't exist, that manipulated the land to hide from both any radar and satellite system. It was wonderful to have a place to go where one didn't exist anymore, where those whom the world had claimed dead breathed and awaited their time. He sighed, dreading the day one of them made a move to escape. It seemed a small army was stored here, despite the fact that the villain's Zoids were also stored here. It would be a sad attempt, nonetheless.

He turned back, reaching for his shot gun, before sprat kicking the chair he had sat on to a corner. He hated the thing, and the job, but had to deal with it. Reaching for the middle of the floor, he threw up the trap-door at the bottom, smirking at the water-drenched ladder beneath him. There was hope for this place, hope to end his sorry existence in the most interesting of ways. His only hope was that day would come after the day when he watched the elusive Raven get thrown away for good in here. One day the boy would have his day to die, and MacIntyre could die in peace.

- - - - - - - - - - -

General Keitel lead the way down the small corridor, with its merely four foot width, accompanied by two rifle-armed soldiers following him, the senator whose pet project was this prison, and a lackey soldier carrying a stool. He stopped, standing to attention as he relieved the guard in the middle of the hallway as they passed by. He sighed at the sight of the dull grey metal door at the end, at its over-compensating three dead-bolt locks, and single small food tray door. On the other side was perhaps his most interesting inmate, the infamous leader of Prozen's hand-picked elite warriors, the Prozen Knight Hanna Hanna. She had given the Guardian Force a run for their money in capturing her, refusing to even die with her final fight, and being sent away in secret to be locked up for eternity here. She was the last of the Knights to be captured, and with many of the dead and the others locked away in other deep portions of the prison, she would probably be the last.

Still, he was uncomfortable with the whole situation. The Senator had arrived at the worst time, when a visiting Guardian Force officer was present at the base, doing the organization lackey working under the premise of checking in on the facility, but instead just causing more trouble than necessary. It killed his men inside to have to keep up such an orderly and nice appearance around the Senator and Officer, but he knew in a day or two, both would be gone and life could return to normal. It was just these pet visits he had to suffer through. Which lead him to the question of why the Senator wanted to talk to Hanna in the first place, had insisted on it so strongly they now walked down this hallway to her cell.

With out an answer, he paused fifteen feet from the door, the two armed guards behind him stopping and turning with their backs to the walls, rifles to the ceiling. The senator walked forward, a step behind Keitel before the two continued down. They stopped outside the metal door, and the lackey soldier placed the stool, before the door next to the food slot. Keitel flicked it open as the Senator adjusted his overly expensive suit, staring into the darkness on the other side of the slot.

"You talk through here. You talk only, you know the drill. You do not pass her anything, you do not rely outside information. You have ten minutes, and then I return." The Senator nodded, and with that Keitel turned heel and left.

The whole situation bothered him, left him with a bad taste in his mouth, but he had to go entertain that stupidOfficer Diavolo or whatever her name was. He had to keep her from snooping around too much, it undermined his authority.

[Steel Cerberus]

Murphy still wasn't exactly sure what she was doing in this forsaken place. She figured that, being a Rottiger, that she was here for some specific reason, but nobody had told her one way or another. Someone important was visiting, judging from all the activity, but she didn't know what.

"You'd think that they'd feel the need to tell us something, huh?" Murphy said conversationally from where she was resting in the cockpit of the zoid she had brought. Not being told anything, she had picked her newest Zoid instead of something more dangerous.

That and besides, Iris refused to fuse to the thing. Since they were in the Valley of the Rare-Hertz, she couldn't come along anyways. Perfect time to get used to the glowing lizard, as far as Murphy was concerned.

Shame Rework the heldigunner wasn't very talkative, though. At all.

All day Murphy had been prod the zoid into conversation, but he either responded with some vague rumbling or a nod. He understood what she was saying, but seemed incapable of speech.

This time, like before, Rework just nodded. The demonlizard crossed his feet and rested his head on them. Well, that was a 'end of conversation' if Murphy ever saw one, so she popped the canopy and sat on the edge, looking around the hangar. This place almost creeped her out, but she couldn't figure out why.

"Lack of information aside," she mumbled, looking at Rework's glowing eye and getting a grunt in response.

[Aeolus]

Well, after her other job had fallen through, Winter had to find something to do.

Somewhat fortunately, she found it in being a prison guard, albeit a fairly temporary position.

Something unfortunately, it was at a location that provided nothing but landscape to entertain oneself with.

Her landscape at current was the corridor that she patrolled, the atmosphere confined and rather stale for the woman. She just idly wandered with a revolver at her side, letting her thoughts drift, her ears twitching toward any unusual sounds she picked up. Winter had heard something about a Guardian Force officer visiting the place. She hadn't seen the officer, but it made Winter consider why she hadn't taken up the Guardian Force instead.

Right, she reflected, I went for that super-secret organization instead.

She kept expecting windows as she ambled along, her eyes searching the walls for one. Somewhere, perhaps just outside, her own Heldigunner was quietly parked, waiting for her return. Winter had always watched the more animated ones with a hint of envy. New programming or something. Her own Heldigunner was not one of those zoids, almost always stock-still and only vocalizing during battle.

Beggers can't be choosers, I guess.

Along the way, she found a rather important-looking figure crossing her path. Right, something about a senator. Winter stopped for a moment to let them pass, and then slipped the group a curious look, wondering what exactly the senator's business was here. She could not follow them just to find out.

Dismissing it, she continued on her way.




post#1*

[Dragonwolf]

Already, Tobias S. Diavlo was in a bad mood. It was raining in buckets, which was the first thing that had gotten on her nerves. She hated the rain. It ruined tracks, changed the field, changed the plan. It hampered sight and sound. If anything, it was a destroyer.

Well, she was a destroyer, too. But not like the rain. The rain did not judge. It did not decide. It went at perfect random, critical of no one. You could not fight something opponent-less.

Then there was the fact that she was assigned to check up on this dismal chunk of rock. But it was the highest-security prison in all of Nyx, and there was some pride at being trusted on to review it. It most likely did not need it, but even the best prison in the world needed to be checked up on every once in a while. Have one of those "health-inspector" routines.

She didn't want to be there. It was obvious that they didn't want her to be there, either. Tobias was not in a good mood. And if she wasn't in a good mood, then nobody was.

Bloodstone was waiting outside, standing vigilant as usual. He was situated right outside the base, preferring to be posted outside rather than in. Tobias preferred it, too--the further away from other zoids, the better.

Inside, she roamed the halls idly, picking her teeth with a wooden toothpick almost impudently, as if she had more interesting things to do at the moment. Her Guardian Force badge was enough to give her exploring rights, although she wasn't really supposed to go through everything...

But it was so much fun to be able to intimidate the guards, simply by stopping and looking at them sternly. They always went somewhat rigid, having to make sure they looked enough like they were actually working. Not that they weren't, but any signs of slacking could have been reported. It felt good to have that kind of power, Tobias mused, her footsteps echoing past the bolted cells.

[Orion]

(( First of all, I would like to deeply apologize on the wait on this post. Life, writer's block, and an unforeseen situation have pushed this post off and off. Hopefully you'll enjoy it. ))

MacIntyre trudged across the muddy soaked green grasses of the prison yard, not that the prisoners were ever let out of their cells to enjoy the yard, heading towards the nearest hangar of the base. Its doors were opened to the outside, though its design prevented it from becoming soaked inside the building, its light shining across portions of the yard and lighting the way for a lonely watchmen such as himself. His shotgun rifle rested against his left shoulder, adjusting itself with each step to further annoy his shoulder, while his right hand fakery tried to point the mag light flashlight to the ground in front of him. He didn't even bother to check the ground in front of him for the various holes, pieces of Zoids components or whatnot, instead his gaze was dimly focused on the hangar ahead, though he was more staring out into space than focusing on the storage building. He had started drifting off in his thoughts lately, and it was a development that he didn't know what to make of yet.

As he closed in on the hangar the storm kicked its ferocity up a notch, as if angered that the man would soon be free from its liquid warfare. Sighing MacIntyre shook his head slightly, knocking the water from the edges of the hat only to have it quickly replaced by the new downfall. He would have to change before heading to the gym he noted, his Imperial soldier uniform was drenched beneath the large faded black trench coat he wore. It was a disappointing fact, but one he couldn't ignore, it would just mean he would have less time to pump some iron before the weight room closed for the night. Which normally wouldn't be a problem, but since the arrival of the Inspector, the actual rules for the guards were being enforced by the General, much to the annoyance of the masses. They couldn't even take their anger out on the inmates, whom decided it would be best to use the guard's kindness and raise hell while they had the chance, before the inspector left and life returned to normal.

The world seemed to lighten itself as the Sergeant crossed the door lines of the massive Zoid hangar, his eyes noting all the various types of mechanical animals being maintained by the base's short staffed repair crews. His eyebrow perked as he noticed a new arrival though, a Zoid he hadn't seen in this hangar before. He eyed the lizard carefully, taking in its various details and quirks as he scanned it for a recognition factor. It looked to be one of the Dark versions of the oh-so-common Heldigunners, and looked like it had been a very stead diet of Deochalcum; and the only quirk he noticed about it was its bronze-ish gold tubing system, which differed from the traditional bleh grey. Just as he was about to dismiss the Zoid as a transfer of a new guy, a small emblem caught the man's eye, its easily distinguishable design surprising the normal passive Sergeant. So there was a Rottiger at the base huh? While he hadn't ever witnessed the unit before, their reputation was widely spoken about.

More surprise settled in as he realized just how simple of a mechanical unit was being utilized by what he assumed must be a vastly experienced pilot. While the Hel Digunner was an impressive unit against similar sized Zoids; on a planet of much larger and more stumpy things, it was nothing more than cannon fodder. He would've expected more of a Royal Zaber or something dark like a Dead Border to be operated by such a accomplished pilot. Curious as to if he may have missed anything special about the Zoid, MacIntyre continued on his way, this time heading towards the Zoid rather than the access stairs to the underground tunnel system that would lead into the cliff and main housing. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and if he didn't find something impressive or have a smoke soon, he'd be in a horrible mood all through his workout; and that would be unpleasant for the others. He stopped for a moment in his step a good forty feet from the Zoid as he realized the pilot of the Zoid was in the cockpit, her image previously concealed by the color and sheen of the Zoids' canopy cover.

He had already started on his way though, might as well chat up the gal and find out a bit more about the Zoid. It would at least look better than doing a double take and heading the other way, thus in his mind looking like a fool. Not that he didn't look like a fool with his cowboy hat, messy blonde hair, unshaven face or water drenched body. Not that he needed to make a impression he noted, as the pilot looked to be younger than himself, a good mid-twenties he guessed compared to his nearing thirty. Sighing, he gritted his teeth and closed the distance, trying to act obvious to the fact that he had noticed the pilot.

- - - - - - - - - -

The Senator cleared his throat, lowering his head to peer through the small slot and hoping to catch some glimpse of the infamous war monger on the other side. Much to his dismay, it was completely pitch black in the cell, and the small shreds of light from his talking area provided no further details on what was inside. He hadn't even heard a noise from inside, no breathing, no mumbling, nothing but pure silence. He didn't even know if his guest was alive and willing to hear what he had to say. He just chalked that up to one of her many charms, noting her briefness and mysteriousness from the messages she had sent to him, explaining her plan and the furthering of Prozen's. Secretly the Senator was a Neo-Zenebas promoter, using his vast influence and resources to slowly pull together the reformation behind the world's back, and he had nearly leaped at the chance that he now got. Hanna had been Prozen's right hand for many years, before being replaced by Lieutenant Hardin and Raven, even eventually Hiltz wiggled his way into her previous position.

She was still a woman of power, of skill, and of action; despite her aging frustrations and her confinement. She had crafted a wonderful and glorious plan, and the Senator was glad to be assisting it in any way he could. "Ahem. Hanna? Hanna, can you hear me?" He asked politely as he could, acting his best to hide his excitement and nerves.

There was a few moments of silence, and a silent sound that sounded like the wind blowing gently on the breeze, but the Senator dismissed it. "Look, you are a very special guest here at this facility. I figured I would personally come to thank you, Ms. Hanna, for your past crimes. I am a Senator from the Republic, a member of the Guardian Force advisory board, and this place is my pet project; my gift to the planet that keeps criminals and war machines like you locked away." He paused, trying to add a harshness to his voice. "For good."

"I wanted to thank you though, in the most hateful way I could, for every life lost to your hand, both Imperial and Republican. Your name is not household common, but nearly close enough. Your hated, and you'll be in the history books. I find that you are probably proud of this somehow, and that you wait for your death at our hands so you can have your final laugh. I wanted you to know, I pulled some strings." Another silent sound at best, something like a ghostly shuffle that the ears almost always ignored or the brain shrugged away. "Your not gonna die soon. I cancelled your death by injection. In fact, you won't die at our hands at all. Instead, you'll stay confined to this cell until you rot away and die. By nature's hands, and by God, I hope that it takes you a lifetime of rotting to end your miserable existence."

He turned up the acting a bit this time, shooting his hands forward at the slot, making it look like a attempt to shake the door. In this action, he slipped a small packet of C4 explosives and a small detonator through the opening, and was glad to not hear them hit the ground. The soldiers took note of his closeness to the slot, both sprinting over, gripping him by his shoulders and dragging him back from the cell. "You'll rot in hell, you hear me? You'll rot in hell Hanna Hanna!" He had sold his part, now he just hoped that Hanna could carry out hers.

One of the soldiers dragging the senator down the hall noticed another guard passing through the connecting hallway, a female guard whose tag read 'Winter'. "Hey!" He called out to her, helping his partner slowly pull the senator by his expensive tux down the walkway. "Hey, Winters! Go find the General and let him know our guest has broke the rules." For now, he'd have to drag the sorry excuse of a politician back to the briefing room, and he really didn't want to be the one to tell the General that the Senator had acted out.

- - - - - - - - - -

Keitel stormed down another hallway in the maze of the base that was built under the rock of the cliff head, passing through the various security check points and the inmate hallways. His frustration was starting to show through, as he was constantly redirected in his attempt to find the Guardian Force agent. She seemed to be patrolling quite quickly, and nearly all his guards seemed to have been paid a visit and harassed lately. He was already fed up with her, but if he didn't find her soon, he might just resort to confine her to her temporary lodging room for the rest of her stay. Her poking around had gone far enough, and now was the time where he needed to draw the line.

The General passed through yet another security check point, the three guards inside the glass booth jumping to attention and saluting him as he briskly passed by. "As you were." He muttered, pushing open the security door before heading down a hallway full of cell doors. These were the less threatening criminals, people like the infamous Stinger and such goons were locked up in this portion. It shouldn't have interested Ms. Diavlo unless she liked weak bandits to be in this portion, but all leads had pointed this way. As he stormed down the hallway, he glanced at his watch, noting there was little less than three minutes left on the Senator's time limit. This little goose chase had eaten his time, and he needed to hurry up so he could return to entertaining the annoyance of the "powerful" man.

He paused for a moment, noting another set of boots echoing past the bolted doors, and stared far ahead, making out the small figure of a female near the end of the block. She would be patrolling the longest block that the prison housed, Keitel resigned to, much to his annoyance. He doubled up his pace as he started again, hoping to catch up to the Guardian Force Officer before she made it to the security booth at the end, not more than fifty feet in front of her. He'd nearly have to sprint he figured, increasingly his walk to a quick speed walk, closing the distance. But boy did he need to have a word with her.

(( Erm, for MacIntyre's appearance, I hope I got his image across right. Think of Jonah Hex, but with blond hair, striking blue eyes and no scar. ))

[Steel Cerberus]

Murphy was practically doubled over where she was sitting, staring into the dark zoid's uniformly glowing green eye and trying to find some trace of something more. But, no, Rework continued to be as full of life as a brick, even as she reached out and poked the glowing pane.

To her surprise, though, the glow narrowed down to that point, a bit like a camera focusing, and then it turned its glowing gaze up to her.

"Hey, see? You are capable of expression," she patted him on the armored lip of the cockpit.

Rework chittered suddenly, his 'eye' swiveling forward suddenly at the same moment, before expanding back to make his whole eye glow again. Murphy, wondering what the heck he had seen, looked up at the cowboy walking right towards her. She straightened up where she sat, resting her hands on either side of where she was sitting, watching and realizing that he was heading for them.

"What do you think, Rework?"

The Zoid moved his shoulders in a tiny shrug, which was totally not helpful. She just barely resisted the urge to kick his armor plated face, but the cowboy feller was standing nearby.

"Howdy," she greeted without really thinking about it. Hopefully she didn't offend him or anything... not like she really cared, though. She wasn't sticking around here very long, as far as she could tell. Come to think of it...

"Hey, what's going on around this place, anyways?" she asked suddenly, leaning forward where she was sitting. Finally, someone who might tell her something.

[Aeolus]

"Hey, Winters!"

Eh, what?

The woman paused in her rounds and glanced up. She blinked in surprise at what she saw, spotting the important man being handled rather roughly, and immediately she wondered what he had done to warrant such treatment.

"Go find the General and let him know our guest has broke the rules."

Aye? The woman glanced over the senator. That somewhat explained the commotion that had been echoing down the hallways not too long ago. Aye... Broke the rules. Right. Perhaps this was her being judgmental, but something was off about the senator. Winter gave his face one glance and frowned. Her eyes hardened, critically examining the man for only a moment before they pulled away, and Winter nodded to the guard.

"I gotcha," she confirmed. Winter moved off to find the General.

She did wonder where she was supposed to find him. Winter clicked through her head for an idea of where he last was or was supposed to be. She eventually decided to head down one of the corridors and simply follow her instinct and a vague picture of where she thought the man had gone. Winter was sure she'd glimpsed him somewhere, after all. She went at a brisk stride, not wanting to run or trot, and wound around the hallways until she ended up in an area with those minor offenders.

Winter glanced up and caught a quick glimpse of the General. As well as a strange woman at the end of the block.

She seems... What's she doing here?

Whatever the situation was, Winter was not concerned with the other woman (quite unaware that the woman was the visiting Guardian Force member—although she did have a vague suspicion of it). "General Keitel, sir," Winter called out. She gave a quick and somewhat lazy salute as she approached. "Our guest has broken the rules."

She was mostly relaying the message word-for-word, as she didn't exactly know what happened and was in no position to try to detail what she didn't know.
post#2