Becoming the Monster

TheGreenerGrey

TheGreenerGrey

Self-proclaimed everything expert.
In the middle of the south pacific ocean lies The Watchtower. The Watchtower, a name taken from old comics, is to this date the second most advanced piece of technology in humanity's arsenal. A truely titanic station, the central building shines a metallic grey and is rounded and smooth on the top, as if someone had pressed a sphere.

Ten large circular landing pads branch off of the central building, below each of which are three rectangular attatchments that spin at a blurring pace, blue lights giving the feel of small tornados.

These attatchments are responsible for keeping The Watchtower hovering above sea level, a development gained from a Kaiju that was capable of doing the same (the physicists managed to get their hands on it just before the RIEP crew came).

The Watchtower houses enough facilities for one to live there comfortably. There is a mess hall for employees, comfortable dorms, leisure facilities, weapons rooms, training rooms and enough other distractions that one could be raised here and still not know everything about it.

Now you may be wondering what the purpose of The Watchtower is, or how this is the second most advanced thing humanity has achieved. The answer to both?

You.

The Watchtower was made initially for the purpose of housing Walker Pilots, but with the introduction of the RIEP has experienced some major overhaul in order to accomodate more organic tastes. Due to The Watchtower's close proximity to the Rift, both Walker pilots and Shifters are able to catch Kaiju before they reach the walls. Usually.

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Currently you are in the Mess Hall for your assigned lunch. Some of you have been here for weeks already, and others transferred in just hours ago and have only now escaped the clutches of the generals and scientists that swarm the building in order to be introduced to the rest of the Shifters, who you will work with until you die in the name of humanity.
 
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Blair was growing tired of the voices shouting around her, all fighting to communicate with whoever they needed to. She was the subject of quite a few shouts, but that was a given because of her new 'Shifter' reputation. She wasn't entirely pleased with her situation, and her face showed a faint, displeased scowl. That seemed to be enough to deter at least a few people from their incessant yammering. She sighed, realizing that maybe she shouldn't be so harsh. After all, this whole thing was a huge breakthrough. She would get to help humanity, and most people considered that to be a huge honor... But she honestly didn't much care anymore. She didn't exactly have a place in the world, so maybe doing this would help her achieve that. Deciding that that would be her reasoning, she blinked a few times and tried looking above the crowd of bobbing heads.

Her eyes curiously glanced around, easily tuning out the rambunctious clamor around her as she focused. She scanned her surroundings, intent on finding some form of refuge. Her eyes quickly stuck to the words 'Mess Hall', where she knew some solace might be found. It was better than this crowd, and besides she remembered that right about now would be the time for lunch. Making her way there by slipping past people calmly and not acknowledging those who approached her, she managed to arrive unscathed. She quickly pushed open the doors, trying to be silent, and carefully closed it behind her. Wow, she made it unnoticed... Relieved, she sat down at the nearest table and collected her thoughts. She couldn't help but look around with intrigue, seeing very few people in the room with her. Maybe she'd talk to them...
 
Vincent had left his room early, he didn't like to have to get through all the hustle and bustle, so he had gotten to the mess hall a bit before lunch. As lunch got there he had grabbed his food and picked a seat wherever, he wasn't picky. As he ate, he thought back to his first day here, meeting everybody, meeting the start of the team he'd be working with. They were an odd bunch that was for sure. He, ate silently simply enjoying the food, for what is was worth, they got decent food, but in the world they lived in, that didn't say much.
He finished his food and leaned back, closing his eyes, he still had a bit before they had to clear out, so he was going to enjoy it. With his eyes closed he could still see everyone around him, well that wasnt exactly true, he 'saw' them, as in he could see their nerve impulses and the electrical currents running through their bodies. He took note of when one of his squad entered the mess hall and go their, no her, food. He could distinguish his squad as their impulses acted differently than normal people's, they were shifters after all, and their biology differed. Opening his eyes he decided to greet her, after all this was some of the time were they could be social. He got up and started walking over to her.
 
Even though she may not care about what the public thinks of her, Sanda still very much preferred to lay low. Sometimes a girl just wants to have lunch in peace and quiet. Or at least in as much peace as one can get in a busy mess hall like this. Having run out of things to keep her occupied and not wanting to spend her time idly bumming around in her room, Sanda had came down a bit too early for lunch. Now she was taking her time munching on the last meatball on her plate as she gazed at her surroundings.

The prospect of getting to know the other shifters was starting to appeal to her - even if it was just to keep her busy for the time being. It wasn't boredom that was eating at her though, she had just been restless ever since her arrival at The Watchtower a couple of days ago. She got up to return her empty plate, maybe she would sit down next to someone else next. Right after getting herself something to drink, that is.
 
Even though he had only been here for a week, Dylan found himself not wanting to get out of bed from some stress. For the most part he was just worried about his brothers, but they were pretty much the only friends he had, how could he not be worried? He did get out of bed some time before his scheduled lunch however, enough to get himself together before heading to the mess hall.

When he arrived at the mess hall, he quickly got his meal then sat down mostly by himself, but he ended up at the same table as Blair. He was pretty far from her though, hopefully enough that he wouldn't catch her attention. He could be social later, right now he wanted some time by himself, with only his thoughts to hopefully clear them out.
 
With heavy footsteps announcing her arrival, Emilia shoved the door wide open and stepped into the mess hall. She was in her exercise clothes, which were soaked straight through with sweat and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The German giant collected her sizable meal and set herself down among as many of the others as she could. As ate she took a good look at her fellow shifters around her. Having not only been flown in late last night, she had only just managed to free herself from the prying doctors and their damnable machines earlier this morning she hadn't had the chance to meet anyone yet.

After a moment of observation she noticed something a little strange. "Hey," She asked the room, "Why is it only us handful eating right now? This place is huge." Perhaps not the greatest conversation starter, but it would give her a chance to see how the others looked at their new positions as Shifters.
 
To be honest, Antonio thinks his life is pretty good right now.

Sure, he's now able to become a Kaiju and the task to ensure the survival of humanity has fallen upon him, but retrospectively, it could have been worse. At least he's doing something good for the people out there, right? He's fighting so people like his family won't have to. To Antonio, that counts for something that he's willing to fight for.

Living in the facility has been lonely, but nothing Antonio isn't used to. Everything seems quieter here in the Watchtower, from the footfalls of officers and scientists to the workings of engines. There's a strange muted sense to everything that's going on here, like how Antonio imagines space will be. The hallways always feel a tad empty despite most of them being narrow and usually occupied, like there's so little life here. He makes nice with most of the people he meet, but he misses his parents and his siblings, and he hasn't gotten the chance to speak with the other Shifters just yet. Perhaps, he thinks, pushing open the door to the Mess Hall, he'll find someone to befriend and stick around with in the future. He's never been too good on his own and it's always nice to have someone to listen to.

Antonio received his tray of food soon enough, and as he scanned the Mess Hall he noticed some shifters scattered here and there amongst the tables. Trying not to seem overeager, Antonio made his way to a table where two of the other Shifters sat. Perhaps this will be a good time to make some friends.
 
Sanda , now with a can of pepsi in hand, returned from the vending machine. She recognised more than a few of the faces as fellow shifters, while others seemed only vaguely familiar. But then again, remembering faces wasn't her forte. She decided to take a seat by the tall young lady who had just spoke up.

"Maybe because everyone else has better places to eat at?"Sanda replied with a shrug."Or....they've got better things to do, unlike us....or maybe it's just me."
 
As the girl spoke Emilia let her eyes wander across her body. She leaned back in her chair and let out a chuckle. "I highly doubt there is any better options than this on a military base floating out in the ocean. And I wish I had something to keep me busy around here." She emphasized her appearent boredom with a drawn out yawn. "They treat us way more like civilians than soldiers capable of transforming into giant monsters." As she said it aloud realization hit her. With how few people had the potential to be shifters, they were probably counting their blessings to find one with any military training when she tested positive. "Short Stuff, do you have any combat training at all? Do any of you?" She looked quizically at her fellow shifters. Her usually chipper appearence exploding with barely contained ecstasy at the thought of being the most capable fighter in the room.
 
Sanda nodded and sipped on her soft drink as the blonde spoke. Relatable tall girl is relatable. "Well, most of us are ...ok, were just civilians before all this." Herself included of course. She raised a brow at the question. Nevermind whatever the other just called her, she's already very well aware of her height. Can't help it if the other was just stupidly tall.

"Nah, not really. Unless you count kickboxing but that's more of a sport to me," she shrugged, "Can't say for the others though." The sudden change in the demeanor of the blonde girl, from boredom to excitement, was quite frankly weird.
 
As Vincent walked past the group he heard the question, and stopped. He slid into a extra seat by the group, "My father taught me Krav maga, never had to use it, but I do know how, I usually put it into my morning routine usually, just to stay in shape" he commented to his teammates, and it was true, training like he had helped improve his physical condition considerably. He wondered though why she asked, after all, it's not like it was a completion, they were in this together. He hoped she wasnt one of them holier than thou art kind of people, he couldn't stand them, their arrogance irritated him.
 
“I’m an Entomologist ” Clyde added as he walked towards the group meekly. His accent was rather strong, leaving no doubt to where he was from but it did not make it difficult to understand what he said. He had just barely left his room and despite his preference of being alone, after several days of being almost alone except for the scientist that had been working on him, a more social situation sounded amazing. Subconsciously he shoved his hand deep into his pockets, not sure really what else to do with them. In all honesty he’d rather not sit down with the group, a table to himself sounding much more appealing but as he had already pulled himself into the conversation he didn’t really have any other choice. Grabbing a chair as well he sat down and attempted to look casual, yet all this did was make him look more awkward.
 
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Emilia raised an eyebrow at Clyde, first taken aback by his incredible height then excited by his accent. Though Emilia's English was near perfect down to common colloquialisms, she very naturally transitioned back into her mother tongue. "Jemand, der deutsch spricht! Endlich. Ich war bereit aufzugeben, jemals wieder die Sprache zu sprechen. Die Amerikaner scheinen bei diesem Projekt wirklich einen Würgegriff zu haben." She attacked the poor man with a rapid barrage of statements, all of which left him little room for response. After a moment she seemed to remember something and turned back towards the others at the table. "Speaking of which, I would love some new work out partners." Her eyes hungrily set themselves on Sanda as she continued. "There's not too much to do here besides train anyway. It'd be nice to actually have a spotter, not to mention sparring partners." She finally ceased her verbal volley and left space for the rest of the group to get a word in.
 
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“Warte, du sprichst Deutsch? Mann, das ist unglaublich! Aus welchem Teil kommst du?” Clyde replied, his face taking on a shocked look before becoming equally excited. After a pause he added, “eigentlich vergiss es. Ich heiße Clyde, Clyde Koch. Wie lautet dein Name?” waiting eagerly for her response. He quickly realised that the others would have no idea what they were saying, and his eagerness disappearing becoming a bit more of embarrassment before he said, “I’m uh Clyde, Clyde Koch” He said once more this time in English. Squirming a bit in his chair, Clyde turned his gaze down before standing up once more and quickly announcing, “I am going to get something to eat.” Before briskly walking off towards a vending machine on the other side of the room.
 
Diana walks into the mess hall, a bit late as she had been in the training room. She was wearing a sports top and jeans, sweat glistening across her body, a towel hung around her neck. She looked around the room with a smile on her face, and when she saw the group at the table, her smile grew and she practically ran to the table, sitting down she greeted them, "Hello! How's everyone doing today?" She was always like this happy and cheerful, even in the early mornings.
 
Dylan perked up a little at the sound of a foreign tongue. He didn't understand a word of it, of course, but he was always interested in other languages and cultures. He turned to face the table it seemed to be coming from, but seeing the group over there his 'introvert' instincts kicked in. What would he even say to them if he went over? The only thing he knew for certain they all had in common was that they were all shifters. Well.... maybe he didn't have to say anything, exactly. He took his tray of food and found an open spot somewhat near them, not too close though, and was half hoping they'd notice him and try to talk to him, and half hoping they wouldn't..
 
Clyde had reached the vending machine and had chosen a pack of trail mix that had cost him $1.30 which in his opinion was a pretty hefty price for such a small bag, but he said nothing about it. As he turned around to rejoin the group he had just left, he noticed that someone else had just sat down in his spot. Giving a sigh, Clyde starting towards them trying to find an empty seat. Nearby there was another person sitting down all by themselves, and deciding that that was probably his best option he started towards them instead. “May I uh sit here?” He asked apprehensively as he stood next to them bag of trail mix in his hands.
 
Trying to listen to the exchange between the giant and the entomologist was useless. Sanda couldn't understand a single word. What language were they even speaking in? German? Sounds like German to her. Well, at least the tall blonde turned her attention back to her. Sanda smiled.

"Oh, I was thinking about the same thing. Haven't had a good spar in a while."

Their little 'group', if you could even call this gradual gathering that, was joined by a seemingly reserved young man who sat just a little ways from them and a very cheery looking girl. At the girl's greeting and question, Sanda answered. "Uh...could be worse, I guess."
 
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" A voice roars out from the entrance as a man dressed in the garb of captain marched forward into the room, copious emblems shining in the artifical light as the tanned, heavily muscled man of fifty took a moment to look directly at the shifters assembled, who by now would have noticed that all others in the room had disappeared.

Behind him marched six other people, four men and two women, dressed in the thick plating of Walker pilots. A special suit was needed in order to interface with the walkers, as well as give pilots a slim chance of survival in case a mission took a turn for the worst. Grey, thick interlocking plates shifted seemingly at random across their body and over a tight black mesh suit. Their heads were covered in white, spherical helmets with their faces obscured by a dark sheet of black glass.

"FIRST DAY ON THE JOB, AND SOME OF YOU LAZY SHITS COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO GREET THE OTHERS?! WHAT, TOO GOOD FOR YOUR FELLOW FREAKS?" The man continues to bellow before stopping in the middle of the room, his muscled form transitioning from enraged animal to unassailable wall. "SHUT UP AND STAND TO ATTENTION IN FRONT OF ME. NOW. WHICHEVER ONE OF YOU FREAKS IS THE LAST WILL BE RUNNING THE GAUNTLET! THE STATE MAY OWN YOU BUT I AM NOT AFRAID TO BREAK YOU." He, surprise surprise, roared at the top of his lungs.

While on his face there was nothing but the fury of a god, behind him the walker pilots sorted into a single horizontal line behind the unnamed captain, seemingly undeterred. Although, it was hard to tell thanks to the helmet.
 
At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, Dylan looked up to see the older german man. He wouldn't totally mind someone to sit with him, and luckily it was just one person. He was about to tell the man that he could sit with him, then the captain barged in. He seemed unsure what to do, but he started to stand up as he looked around the other shifters for some example. For all he knew, there could be a specific way to do this that he had no clue about and no desire to mess up.
 
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