[b]Jackdaw Missouri
Refugee Living Quarters
Tagged;; Hostile Refugees & Vault Security[/b]

Jackdaw solidly refused to cry out or utter any sort of pained grunt was he was thrown against the ground, officers swarming around his body. His back was quite sore from the landing, but he had dealt with so much worse, and so, the only thing he did in retaliation was glare viciously at the 'main honcho' of this clear case of security brutality. He did [i]not[/i] want to lead a bunch of toxic-blooded [i]cowards[/i]. [i]'Fuck them. I'm getting another job.'[/i] He thought as he twisted his body, his torso constricting as he used the dense muscles in his midsection and ankles to throw himself up into a stubborn half-kneeling, half crouching position. [b]"I didn't do anything."[/b] His lips scowled even further, even as the voices of other Refs began to pick up very loudly, the discriminated-against populace making their anger and disapprovement, very, very well-known. 

Although he had to fight back a small, very slight smirk at the rebellious attitude, his eyes slowly narrowed once he saw people reaching for objects and weapons, along with the screaming turning into roars of outrage. [b]"Shit. Stop!"[/b] It was too late...bloodshed wasn't necessary for this. Jackdaw's amber eyes widened, before practically glaring, his voice rough and hoarse as he struggled against his bonds, pushing and headbutting security officer's away. It was wild now;; Blood was flying, gunshots flew through the roof...the Refugees had guns now. This was not good...not good at all. As the head man pulled him away roughly, talking into his speaker, Jack growled and roughly, yet 'accidentally' slammed his head backwards as a guard pushed into him, sending the hand-held walkie-talkie splattering across the cold metal grounds. All of the Refs were gonna die in this shit. He needed to get these damn cuffs off, and do...do [i]something[/i]!

[b]"Are you happy now, [i]Commander[/i]?"[/b] He hissed harshly, watching another Ref get gunned down. A familiar man ran across the corridor, a massive sledgehammer in hand, and eyes wide in rage. He was practically frothing. His name came instantly, and ripped through Jack's lips before he could help it. [b]"Devon! No!"[/b] He wanted to flinch away...but his dark golden eyes could only stare in shock, and anger, as the large man's body was torn open by a heavy spray of rifle lead.

[b]"Devon!"[/b] A female voice screeched above the sound of gunfire and grunts. A red-head ran out into the open...more lead fired.

His wife, Cassidy...dead, falling on top of the man's body. No...Tears didn't escape. His eyes had been dried way too much after his father's death, to the point where he found it painful to cry. But this...He didn't realize his shoulders were shaking, or the fact that his fists clenched so hard that the knuckles popped. He did, however, realize that his heart was constricting. His last two friends...the only two he could call family. Dead.

God damn it.