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Dawn OOC

Session 1: The "Funvee"

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The regular clack of wheels on a rail drummed their way into the drugged minds of the unconscious bodies on the hammock. The slings swung softly as the train rolled down a long hill. The rough wool of army blankets covered their bodies, staving off any cold air from the unconscious bodies. Warm air, tinged with the scent of woodsmoke, drifted over exposed skin. The smell of warm bread drifted through the room, and a soft orchestral piece drifted through the air, muting the rhythmic clatter of the train. Occasionally, cool air crept in from somewhere outside the comfortable train car, bringing the slight smell of wood rot. Rough toilets had been installed at the back of each cell, with curtains that could be pulled as needed. Folding chairs hung on hooks on the wall, ready for when someone wanted a seat.

The scent of bread didn’t help with the hunger as each of the women in the room woke up. Their shoes and boots were on the floor at the foot of the pole holding one end of their hammock, but all their other clothing was intact. The second red flag (the first being no idea where they were) were the needle marks and bandages on their arms, the latter covering two small stitches. 

The car was bisected by iron bars with a door, and four men in Nazi uniforms reclined in their own hammocks, their shiny black boots at the base of the support pole and their hats hanging neatly on hooks. A small wood stove provided the warmth in the air. A table had been built into the bars, milled so that the wood fit around the metal perfectly. Fresh loaves of bread in a basket sat on each side of the bars, with two coolers zip-tied to the table’s legs. Inside were chilled deli meats, sliced cheese, fruit cups, and fruit-flavored fizzy waters.

Siobhán woke up in the first hammock on the right side of the car. Her purse had been tucked in under her arm, but she could feel it was thinner. One of the Nazis stared at her from his hammock, his expression glazed with confusion. He was young, white, and dark haired, and with a severe Jersey accent, he said, “Hey, I know you.”

Morgan was in the second hammock on the right, and she woke up with a jerk, ready to continue her fight. There were no combatants in her reach, just a young brunet in the third hammock, wearing a Northface parka who had started to shake and cry. “What’s going on?” parka girl asked hoarsely, her eyes darting around in fear. 

For Teagen, consciousness also brought the pain of a corset digging into her sides. When she’d been grabbed or moved, the garment had shifted and never been moved back into place. Her gown was otherwise unmolested, with it’s layers of silver-white and ice-blue draped over both sides of the first hammock on the left. Her cloak lay over her under her blanket, leaving her a little overheated.

The women in the remaining two hammocks hadn’t woken up yet.

Another character, Vivi’s, will be joining us when she finishes with creation and is one of the unconscious women. Until then, feel free to talk amongst yourselves; I’ll input with the men as needed. They are willing to talk, and happy to say hi, so feel free to have them doing the basic (flirty) interactions. Your wallets and ID are missing, but the rest of your belongs are with you, including cell phones. The phone don't have a signal. 

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Teagan woke up and then went still. Terror raced through her, but her mind quickly clung onto to the tactics and sort-of skills she'd picked up from role playing adventurers. She glanced around the car as much as she could without actually moving her head, then slowly pulled herself under her blanket and cloak. She took stock of herself, noting the groggy, fuzzy-headed feeling in her mind and the sting around the puncture holes. The stitches sent her heartbeat through the roof again and had her gulping in humid, hot breaths. She prodded at the wound, wincing at the pain but pushing through - there! She felt a lump that wasn't supposed to be there,  She pulled the sutures out, hissing at the painful tug on sliced flesh; once that was done she took a deep breath and pinched down on the flesh, trying to force it out. It didn't work. She pinched again, then poked, tugged and shook, all to no avail. Whatever the hell these people had put in her - probably a tracker - it wasn't coming out. Which probably meant they attached it to something. It was going to to take tools and someone with specific medical knowledge to get the damn thing out.

She cradled her bleeding arm, tugging the blanket down and using it as an awkward bandage to soak up the blood. She hadn't made a sound yet, despite tears streaming down her face from the pain. She laid there for several minutes, letting the cut clot and her eyes clear up from the tears. When she cautiously poked her head, she noticed the five other women in cells like her. Then there were the men. Her eyes widened and her mind spun. "What the hell?" she whispered, staring at them without realizing she was staring. "I've been kidnapped by Nazis." 

Her brain, ever a perverse imp, added That's so last century.

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On 9/13/2019 at 5:44 PM, Dawn OOC said:

“What’s going on?” parka girl asked hoarsely, her eyes darting around in fear.

Morgan turned her head and looked at  the weeping girl then raised her head slightly and observed the uniformed men on the other side of the bars. She wasn't a hundred percent sure but she didn't think any of them were gun-boy or Bob. She looked back at the brunette  

"shhh, calm down," she whispered at the brunette. She moved to sit up and winced at a pain in her arm. Examining the hurt limb she found the small stitches and needed mark, well shit, she thought then pushed herself into a sitting position.

On 9/13/2019 at 5:44 PM, Dawn OOC said:

One of the Nazis stared at at another woman in the cage from his hammock, his expression glazed with confusion. He was young, white, and dark haired, and with a severe Jersey accent, he said, “Hey, I know you.”

Morgan glanced over at the girl, she did look familiar sort of. She noticed another woman on the other side of that girl whose arm was bleeding rather profusely. The adventurer rose to her feet there was a moments wobble, she wasn't if it was her or the train though, then she steadied. 

The 'nazi' looked at her when she stood but didn't say anything as Morgan walked around the hammocks to the bleeding woman. "Hey, my name is Morgan, let me look at that," she said as she crouched down so as not to tower of the hurt woman.

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Teagan kept her arm out of sight of their Nazi (or at least neo-Nazi) train car companions. "It's fine," she said softly. "It's clotted, I just don't have anything to clean it off with."

True to words, Morgan could now see that the arm wasn't bleeding much anymore, but mostly just smeared with drying blood. The small incision was still wet, seeping a little fresh blood around the forming clot, and lacked the stitches her own arm had. There were several small pinprick holes where the thread should be. Teagan gave their male carmates a glare, and asked Morgan in a near whisper, "Any idea what the hell is going on?"

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"Wha?" was the sum of the eloquent response Siobhán managed as she raised a hand to her head as tried to shake out the cobwebs.

Where was she and who were these guys? Was she being "Punked" or something? I mean.. Nazi's? Really? Can you be more cliché? And the coolers and fizzy waters were a nice touch. Totally period accurate, she though, mentally rolling her eyes.

"Oh shit!" she blurted out as she found her last memories.

"Those guys! They were German or something! What's going on here? Where's Juno?" she asked as she struggled to get out of the hammock and to her feet, taking a determined step toward the 'guards' only to find that her legs were not on board with the idea. Her knees buckled and she stumbled, falling forward to her knees with a lack of coordination or grace, barely catching herself in time.

"What the...? What did you...?" she stammered out as she felt the pain in her arm and looked at it with widening eyes.

"That's gonna scar you..." she exclaimed weekly before her head fell forward, landing on her arm.

"What's going on..." she quietly sobbed to herself as she lay in a heap on the floor of the rail car, uncertain of anything at the moment.

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“Hey, whoa, are you okay, lady?” The deep voice belonged to a tall, built young man who staggered to the bars, looking through with worry. The concern on his face went poorly with the Nazi uniform. He reached for the latch to enter their area, only for it to not move. Frowning, he started to search his pockets. “Hey,” he said to the other men, “anyone got the keys? She needs help.”

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Morgan checked her movement toward the woman that had collapsed, sobbing, before she even started , her first instinct had been to go to her aid, but when the guy had come to the cell door she knew this was a chance to learn some thing and maybe just maybe get some leverage.

Waiting she studied the man to see if he were armed. It surprised her some what the uniform didn't look like a cheap costume which is what she had thought it was when she saw them. She didn't know  alot about militaries but she did know that dressing a s a Nazi was pretty much a big no no everywhere.

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The man wasn't armed; he hadn't put his shoes on yet. None of them were armed in anyway, and one didn't look old enough to drink legally yet. They stood up slowly, complaining about being groggy but checking their pockets. "Naw," the Jersey Nazi finally said, "they didn't give us the keys."

"Why not?" the kid asked, straightening his sleeves and picking lint off them.

"Don't trust us yet," the blond guy stated evenly and looked back through the bars. Seeing Morgan staring at him, he said, "Hey, can you check that woman? See if she needs help or something?"

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A train whistle screamed shrilly ahead of them, and the floor leveled off beneath their feet. "Are we almost there?" the kid asked.

"Who the hell knows?" Jersey grumbled, moving to the table and tearing into the bread. "We're gettin' the mushroom treatment." He peered into the cooler. "Pineapple Mango Fizz? Did we get some faggot's cooler by mistake?"

The blond guy just looked imploringly at Morgan, who sighed and turned to Siobhán. "Hey, lady, hon," the massive redhead said as she crouched next to her, touching her gently on the shoulder. "Are you okay?"

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Teagan looked over at Siobhan and Morgan, making a note that something weird was going on with the men. Is this some weird hazing? I'm a senior! She sighed and looked down at her arm. Hazing doesn't usually involve surgery and trackers

She moved over to the other women, crouching down next to Morgan. "Deep breaths," she said as soothingly as she could. "In, count to five, and out, count to five. It'll make your body calm down so you can think. Then you can tell us who Juno is." And maybe we can all make a plan. Train whistle. We could really be anywhere. Don't panic! In, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

 

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Morgan knelt down beside Siobhan, "Are you hurt any where," She asked? As Teagan joined them, Morgan glanced at the boys in uniform.

"I don't know what is going on," she whispered tot he two girls, "my name is Morgan, I was kidnapped in Times square by some weird guys that spoke German. But it wasn't these guys, I'm not even sure these guys know what is going on."

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The platinum blonde nodded to Morgan. "Me too. Apparently I dressed for the wrong costume party." Her voice was level and dry, motioning to her gauzy high elf dress and wildly impractical knee-high heel boots. "I'm Teagan."

She looked at both of them, her brow furrowing. "Do I know either of you? You guys seem kinda familiar."

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The blond sniffled a few times, trying to compose herself, then lifted her head and rose up to a side sitting position on the floor of the rail car.

"T-thanks." she said, sniffling once more before continuing. "My arm. It's gonna scar and ruin bikini season for me..." she said, still clinging onto the life she knew. 

"And I'm.. I'm Siobhán. I was playing the Time Square Rockin' New Years Eve. And Juno is.. was.. is.. my bodyguard. Well, one of them. She.. she was the one I got away with, after I finished my performance... Or at least we thought we did." she said, her voice trailing off. 

"Then there were more scary German guys, and she told me to run, and she tried to hold them off, and so I ran like a coward, and the park was dark, and then there were more of them there, and they were chasing me, and I just could run any more, and they caught me, and they stuck me with something and now I'm, heeere." As Siobhán continued to talk, she back to speak faster and faster in one, long, run-on sentence as she grew more and more panicked, ending in a whine.

Siobhán tried to compose herself again, picking something to focus on as she looked at Teagan. 

"It's cute. I mean, a little cliché, but cute. I have some eye shadow that would really compliment the colors and make your eyes pop." she said, pointing to her bag. 

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Teagan blinked at the make-up advice mid-kidnapping, but she managed to place the woman's face and gave the benefit of the doubt for coping mechanisms. "Well, high elf wizard is a bit cliché in the nerd world, but it's fun." She smiled, a gave the make-up bag a nod. "I might take you up on the eye liner, but once we're out of here, okay?"

"Okay, so you two are famous. My family has money. Maybe that's what this about? Ransom or something?" She glanced at the men on the other side of the bars, dropping her voice even lower. "One of them said that they aren't trusted yet. Maybe it's like a hazing thing, the uniforms? They could be some sort of...neo-nazis, but like trying to be even more like original Nazis? Since those running the actual show all seem to be German, or at least playing at actually being German."

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Seeing Siobhán looking around and talking caused the blond Nazi to relax. He moved away from the bars and joined the others going through the food. As the women whispered among themselves, and the young girl in the parka cried herself out, they made sandwiches and chatted excitedly about being accepted by the true Nazis.

The blond woman resting next to Teagan slowly opened her eyes and moaned. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and was vaguely familiar to the captives. She wore warm clothing: jeans, sweater, and down parka.

The teen Nazi moved to the bars and called, "Ava? You okay?"

She lifted her head and looked at him, smiling sleepily. "Oh, they did put us in the same car. Cool!"

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Teagan lurched towards Ava, rage and murder clear on her face. Morgan managed grab Teagan's arms and lean in front of her. "Not now," she told the tempestuous blonde in a low tone. She could feel Teagan seething, muscles clenched tight and the incision on her arm seeping blood again. 

She finally sat back, ripping her eyes away from the woman who'd just identified herself as a collaborator with the enemy. "What. the. hell. is. going. on?" Teagan hissed through clenched teeth, her words not so much an actual question or meant to carry past Morgan and Siobhan. 

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"Lets see if we can find out."

Morgan let go of Teagan and still crouched moved to where Ava lay, keeping an eye on the teen Nazi. "Hey Ava, right? You know him?" She gestured with her chin at the uniformed youth beyond the bars, "Do you know whats going on? Where we are?" 

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Ava stretched and smiled at Morgan. “Hi! That’s my little brother, Chase. We’re joining the real Third Riech.” She rolled out of the hammock and grabbed her shoes, sturdy hiking boots. As she pulled them on, she said, “I’m not sure where we’re going, exactly. They’ve been incredibly secretive about it. Which, given the way that the Zionist media machine has blinded the world to the truth, is completely understandable.”

“Hey, you do know that the other women aren’t here voluntarily,” Jersey said, wincing as he took a sip of the fizzy water. “Know whaddimean?”

“Of course I know that,” Ava said, shooting him a frown. “But they’re here with us, and they’re going to become part of the great future!”

“What Felix is trying to say is that maybe you shouldn’t tell them everything,” Chase said drily.

“What are they going to do, tell the police?” Ava glanced at Morgan. “I know you’re probably scared and confused, but we’re going to become part of something great, and you’re going to be fine.” She patted her on the arm.

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"The real Third Riech? What?? I'm not even German. I'm Irish!" she proclaimed as she scampered over to her shoes and slipped them on when she noticed the other girl doing so, lacing them tight with irritation. The fact that the force from a good stomp, focused on the end of the slender heel, could do some serious damage to an assailant's foot was something that she had just recalled from her self defense instruction, but she hoped it would not be needed.

"Wait... You're.. with them?" Siobhán asked, her voice equal parts surprise and outrage. "Then wh- Why are you in here, with us?" she asked  before closing her eyes and balling her fists.

"None of this makes any goddamned sense! I'm done! This isn't funny. So just reveal your hidden cameras, get your produce here out and have your laugh. I am done. This is seriously not funny." Siobhán ranted, clearly thinking this was some sort of hidden camera show like Punkd.

She then turned and saw her acoustic guitar hanging on the wall and her eyes widened. She turned around to glare at her 'captors' and pointed back at her guitar without even looking at it.

"And who the hell did this? Don't you have a single, competent PA that knows how to properly handle an instrument? That had better NOT be my guitar hanging there by the strap banging against the wall for who knows how long. That had better be a knock off with my real guitar safe and secure in my green room or something, because if I take this off the wall and see a specific mark on it telling me that it's mine, there is gonna be hell to pay!" she unleashed at them with ever bit of Diva attitude and entitlement she had cultivated over the years, even to make even the most veteran and hardened producer cower.

Siobhán then reached back, picked the guitar up off the hook it was hanging on by the strap, and spun in in her hands, looking at the back of it as her eyes widened. 

"Oh hell no..." she growled. "Somebody had better get me your Producer, and a chai mocha latte... Right now!"

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“She’s going to be a handful for some lucky guy,” Felix said with a laugh.

The blond man backhanded him on the arm. “Don’t be a jackass,” he chided. “Can’t you see they’re scared?”

“What are they scared for?” Chase asked with a smirk. “It’s not like one of them’s gonna have to marry Felix.”

“Ha ha, asshole,” Felix mocked. “One of them might be my wife.”

“We’ll be earning our stripes for a few months yet,” Chase said. “They’ve got other soldiers to marry this lot off to.”

“I want the Producer! NOW!” Siobhán stomped up to the bars. “Or this show is getting cancelled! I will see it dead and buried if you don’t stop this idiocy now!”

Ava stepped forward and said in the voice you use to soothe small children with, “This isn’t a show, Siobhán. This is a train bound for… wherever the Third Riech has thrived. I know you’ve been brainwashed by the Zionist media, but you’re going to be part of the great Ayran race.” She leaned closer and murmured, “But you might not want to advertise being Irish too loudly. White is great, but let them think you’re German-descent. You’ll land a better husband.”

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Siobhán turned to look at Ava wide eyed. Her blue-gray eyes had a wild look in them as all her irritation, frustration, confusions and everything finally came bubbling to the surface. The knocking of her proud, Irish heritage and the suggestion that she was going to be forcibly married off to some wannabe Nazi lunatic was the last straw and it call came bursting out as she reared an arm back and punched Ava right in the face.

Spoiler

4d Brawling roll. Going evens.
Details:[4d6 (4 1 6 1)] = 2 sux

"No!" she said shouted at Ava as the girl staggered back from her, clutching her nose.

"NONE of this. I have a meeting for my Spring line in the morning, a hair appointment with Raul, yes the Raul, and I am supposed to begin promoting my new album. I have no time for any of this! So you can just turn this... thing right back around and take me home. NOW!"

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In the shocked silence after the hit, Teagan giggled. Chase gripped the bars and shouted, “Hey!”

Ava’s hands went to her face for a split second, then anger clouded her features and she drew back her right arm, her hand curling into a fist. Morgan and Teagan both moved to intercept her, with Teagan managing to grab her arm. Ava still connected with Siobhán’s jaw, knocking her backwards into the wall of the car. 

The singer bounced off the wall and collapsed to the floor. Chase whooped in support of his sister, while Felix shouted, “Rip her shirt off!”

“Any of you other race-traitor bitches wanna take me on, then come get me,” Ava growled at the conscious women. The still-crying woman looked at the unconscious Siobhán and quickly shook her head.

 

The rolls for above post.

Teagan’s attempt to block the attack on Siobhan: [2d2 (1 2)] = 1 sux

Morgan’s attempt to block the attack on Siobhan:[3d2 (1 1 1)] = 0 sux

Ava’s attack on Siobhan:[8d2 (2 2 1 1 2 2 2 2)] = 6 sux - 1 = 5 nonlethal damage

Siobhán is Knocked Out for one minute. 

Top of a new round: Morgan is up.

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Morgan lunged to grab Ava and choke a bitch out. She got an arm over the other woman's shoulders, but Ava spun awkwardly and dodged away from the grab.

 

Ava and Morgan both got one on their rolls, no damage, just a close call.

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"Just leave the stupid racist bitch alone," Teagan glared at Ava, but she'd moved over to Siobhan to check on her. "She's clearly a waste of carbon and oxygen. Not worth it." And the other one's a diva that's going to have a second breakdown on us once she realizes this isn't the latest season of Survivor: Nazi Edition. Great.

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Ava didn't attack again, turning her angry eyes to Morgan to see if she was done or ready for more.

If Morgan is done with the combat, it will end.

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Spoiler

Combat's over.

 

Ava stepped back cautiously from the other women, moving to the bars. Chase found a cloth and passed it to her, looking at her nose. “I think you’ll recover,” he told her. “Nice punch. Dad would be proud.”

“Dad wouldn’t like me hitting another white person,” Ava sighed. She felt her face. “Ugh, I’m going to meet potential husbands with a shiner.”

“Probably two,” the blond man said before pointing out the supplies on the women’s side of the cage. “You make a sandwich while you can see.”

Grumbling, Ava went to make herself a sandwich.

In the distance, the train whistled again, then lurched as it started to slow.

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Siobhán stirred with groan as consciousness gradually returned to her. She had never been knocked out before and so this was a startlingly new experience for her, even though she did not recall that she has just been knocked out. Her head was foggy, or full of cobwebs, or a fog made of cobwebs. Thinking was difficult, but gradually improving while she felt strength slowly returning to her limbs once. 

"Owwww! Wha- what happened?" she groaned and then instantly winced, lifting a hand to cradle her jaw as the dull, throbbing ache that was taking its sweet-ass time to fade.

Slowly her blue eyes fluttered open as she rolled from her side onto her back, still holding her jaw, and she could see a blond in some sort of costume, leaning over her.

"I- owwww! I have some eye shadow that would really compliment the costume and make your pretty eyes pop." she said, repeating herself from earlier, though she did not realize it, as her mind latching onto something safe, familiar and comfortable; fashion and cosmetics.

"Where... where are we?" she asked as she lifted her head, her gaze shifting from the blondes face and began to take in her surroundings, gradually growing wider.

"Awww come on!" she whined, shutting her eyes and laying her head back as her pretty face twisted into a mask of disappointment and frustration.

"This is bullshit." she groaned as she slowly lifted her hand from her jaw to her head.

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The train lurched once and brakes squealed. The uniformed soldiers and the brides-to-be alike stumbled at the sudden movement. There was a long moment of deceleration, then the train stopped. “Finally,” Ava said, grinning widely and missing that the door had opened while she was talking. “I can’t wait to meet my husband! I hope he’s a hero of the Reich.”

“All of our soldiers are heroes of the Reich,” the newcomer said. He wore a Nazi uniform, and all of the men snapped to attention. He was older, with a number of medals and rank markings on his shoulders and chest. “At ease, Schützen.”

The soldiers relaxed into parade rest. Warm brown eyes turned to the women, and he was almost pleasant aside from the uniform. “Hello, I am Major Friedrich Gerst. I understand that you are alarmed and afraid. You will come to learn that you need not be. You are a treasure of the Third Reich, and will be cherished as such. 

“In the past, we have had violence from the Brides when transferring them from the train to the elevator.” He smiled benignly and continued, “In the past, we have sedated women who have been violent. You are allowed to say what you wish to any member of this expedition but you are not allowed to commit violence on anyone, soldier, other Bride, or slave. Do you have any questions?”

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Teagan turned hostile eyes on the Major, crossing her arms. "So, since you apparently have to kidnap your 'treasures,' I assume 'cherish' means put out or we'll just rape you anyways? I mean, I get it. No one wants to fuck a Nazi, let alone willingly marry something so sub-human. Other than head-case with the shiner over there." She made a rude gesture towards Ava, her opinion of the woman quite clear. "And the Third Reich? Utter embarrassing flop. Read a goddamn history book."

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Morgan reaches out and gently touches Teagan's arm when the other girl looks at her Morgan gives a little shake of her head.

"What do you need us to do," she asks the Major

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"Okay. Okay." Siobhán said as she grabber her purse and guitar.

"Okay. So the cameras and everything got to be waiting outside for the 'We got you!' moment or whatever. I am so done with this, so let's get this over with so you can get your little video clip or whatever and then my agent can ruin some careers," she sighed as she pulled out her compact and checked her makeup and hair in the small mirror, preparing herself for the inevitable 'gotcha' moment that she knew just had to be forthcoming

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Major Gerst Ignored Siobhán, and nodded at Morgan. “Stay close to the Schutzstaffel while we travel, and do what you are told. It will all be for your safety.”

Turning to Teagen, he stared at her for a long moment before stating, “Many come here with bold declarations of never being a Nazi’s wife. They curse and flail and scream, and after a while, those denouncements fade once they see the world they are in now. Honestly, if you truly don’t wish to be wooed and become a mother of the sons of the Reich, then don’t. Once we reach Helleberlin, you may become a slave if you don’t wish to become a wife. Before you joyfully flip me off and skip off to be chained with the others, you will wish to see what life would be like for you. ”

He smiled but this time there was an edge to it. “As for history, Fraulien, I would suggest that you learn what is the true history of this world and the false history planted by those who fear the power of the Aryan Race.” As Teagen rolled her eyes at that, he merely pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. “Ladies, regardless of how you feel at this moment, you cannot stay here.”

His statement was punctuated by two gunshots from somewhere outside the train. The four soldiers who had ridden with them jerked at the screams that erupted, but Gerst didn’t react. “Come along, we have a three day walk to the Elevator, and no time to dawdle.”

“Fine, let’s go,” Siobhán growled, pushing past him and storming through the door he’d just opened. She found herself in a room full of supplies -- foodstuffs, raw ores, and more. A door to the right was open and flooded with light, the kind of bright lights that you find on a sound stage. Forcing a good-natured smile for the camera she presumed would be on the other side, she stuck her head out the door. 

There were bright lights on girders overhead, but that was the end of the scene matching her expectations. A cavern ceiling arched high overhead, with an archaic train station in front of her. Stepping off the car and onto the platform, she saw that the engine was to her left and to her right was the line of cars. The platform didn’t extend very far, and most of the other cars were offloading their people using wooden boxes as steps. 

“Hey, get yer ass in gear, hot stuff,” Chase grumbled from behind her. Siobhán automatically stepped to the side, moving more out of an ingrained societal response than any desire to follow Chase’s orders. As the others filed off, she could hear screaming down near the end of the train -- screams that ended suddenly.

Noir, you may roll Perception to spot Juno in one of the chained groups.[/i]

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