Post by Sinister on May 17, 2011 13:19:40 GMT -8
The lab itself, housed within the stone structure that was the base of Apocalypse's Hand, was, in its own way, a representation of science throughout the last two hundred years. What would have been thought of as "Steampunk" to some, was actually genuine pieces of equipment from the 1800s, modified and refined to work with modern technology. This was the laboratory of Nathaniel Essex, known to few as Sinister, himself defying classification as much as several of the pieces within his laboratory.
Sinister himself stood, his skin as white as the coat he wore while he mixed what he believed was a new version of cholera that could stand up to rehydration and antibiotics. Apocalypse had always wanted him to come up with a virus that would destroy the weak, and if Sinister succeeded in tailoring this bacteria to certain ethnic groups and DNA markers, then he will have succeeded.
The opening and closing of a distant door was heard, but Sinister did not react at first, expecting visitors. They were expected, though, to come bearing gifts. When the visitors darkened his door, Sinister looked up, his slightly blackened lips creasing as he smiled.
"How very thoughtful George." Sinister said, speaking to one of his lackies, a mutant with a body resembling a slick, viscous substance.
"Welcome boss." The man replied as he stepped forward, the light finally revealing that he had a young woman over his shoulder.
She was unconscious.
Placing her on the table slash examination bed in the middle of the room, George stepped back, letting Sinister in to examine the young woman. She was quite beautiful, her slim figure complimented by her Samoan features. She was also a mutant; one with the ability to teleport herself across hundreds of miles. Tracking her down had been difficult to say the least, but it hadn't stopped Sinister sending his men after her.
Fastening the restraints and gagging the girl (to deal with the screams), Sinister set up an IV.
"Leave us." Sinister said to his servant, and George wasted no time in leaving.
Sinister presumed he wouldn't want to see what happened after she was woken up. Not that the gagged screams wouldn't haunt him for the next three hours while Sinister went to work...
By the time Sinister finished, he was covered in blood, though he didn't mind; you didn't make an omelet without breaking some eggs...
Sinister himself stood, his skin as white as the coat he wore while he mixed what he believed was a new version of cholera that could stand up to rehydration and antibiotics. Apocalypse had always wanted him to come up with a virus that would destroy the weak, and if Sinister succeeded in tailoring this bacteria to certain ethnic groups and DNA markers, then he will have succeeded.
The opening and closing of a distant door was heard, but Sinister did not react at first, expecting visitors. They were expected, though, to come bearing gifts. When the visitors darkened his door, Sinister looked up, his slightly blackened lips creasing as he smiled.
"How very thoughtful George." Sinister said, speaking to one of his lackies, a mutant with a body resembling a slick, viscous substance.
"Welcome boss." The man replied as he stepped forward, the light finally revealing that he had a young woman over his shoulder.
She was unconscious.
Placing her on the table slash examination bed in the middle of the room, George stepped back, letting Sinister in to examine the young woman. She was quite beautiful, her slim figure complimented by her Samoan features. She was also a mutant; one with the ability to teleport herself across hundreds of miles. Tracking her down had been difficult to say the least, but it hadn't stopped Sinister sending his men after her.
Fastening the restraints and gagging the girl (to deal with the screams), Sinister set up an IV.
"Leave us." Sinister said to his servant, and George wasted no time in leaving.
Sinister presumed he wouldn't want to see what happened after she was woken up. Not that the gagged screams wouldn't haunt him for the next three hours while Sinister went to work...
By the time Sinister finished, he was covered in blood, though he didn't mind; you didn't make an omelet without breaking some eggs...
