Daz led the charge for the most part, being the first one on the stairs with the others porting in just behind him. But he was quickly overtaken by several of the faster prisoners. His steps faltered unsteadily as he felt another death, a sickening feeling in his gut, but it wasn't one of the Deviants at least. With every step he cast his mind out as far as it could reach, taking in everything he could find. [COLOR=FF3300][i]There![/i][/COLOR] Daz snatched the stray half-thought from one of their pursuers; [i]"Mr. Whittemore is going to be pissed-"[/i] A name! [COLOR=FF3300][i]Mr. Whittemore... who the hell is that?[/i][/COLOR]

[quote=@Emma]
[color=bc8dbf][i]"Get it together. Survive."[/i][/color]
[/quote]

[COLOR=FF3300][i]Yeah, keep it together. I[/i] will [i]survive this![/i][/COLOR] He mustered as much determination as he could, but he was being buffeted on all sides by quick, panicked thoughts and powerful, erratic emotions. It was hard to keep focused.

Then he noticed a really sickening thought; [i]"Better than cutting them open at least-"[/i] Accompanying the thought was an image of a young girl who had been cut up like a frog in a school lab. [COLOR=FF3300][i]They were going to do that to us...?[/i][/COLOR] Daz felt sick at the mere notion of being dissected, to have it thrust in his in all the detail of a memory- [COLOR=FF3300]"Shit!"[/COLOR] He cursed fearfully. He flinched as another wave of pain and death washed over him. [COLOR=FF3300][i]Seven,[/i][/COLOR] he thought, his anxiety building. He'd never thought it was this bad, he'd been sitting in his cell for three days imagining he was just going to be poked and prodded for blood samples, not murdered!

One of the Deves ahead of him was a dark haired woman about his age, and judging by the sheer damage she wrought on the door her impressive telekinetic abilities far surpassed his own. At least they were out, he followed the flow of relieved Deviants out into the fresh air. It was wet, as if it had just rained, and they were in a field beside a large concrete warehouse. Not far was the treeline, tall, thin evergreens forming a ring around the empty grass. The ground sloped sharply just before the wooded area, going into a steep, rocky incline. Mountains could be seen in the distance, and Daz got the feeling they were at the base of one.

A loud, harsh rushing sound assaulted his ears, forcing him to take note of the large waterfall behind the complex. He'd been avoiding the thought, but faced with this landscape, the accents, and a name like 'Toketee', it seemed they were most definitely in America, Oregon must be a state then. He doubted he could safely teleport all the way home from here, but he was willing to give it a try. His attempt quickly failed, maybe it was too far, maybe not, but his powers wouldn't reach beyond the glade.

Steeling himself to the best of his ability, Daz kept running, moving as fast as he could towards the treeline. [COLOR=FF3300][i]Porting doesn't work![/i][/COLOR] He informed his fellow escapees, [COLOR=FF3300][i]keep running![/i][/COLOR]