"Hey, what do we do with this vat? I think it was a personal project of the boss or sumthin'."
"Dunno, he's gone now, and it ain't on the keep list. I say chuck it."
"Aren't you curious about what's in it though? We could just crack it for a sec, no one'd care..."
"I dunno... eh, what's harm? The crowbar's on the crate over there."
*Loud crack followed by a thunk as the lid falls off*
"Hey, there's a girl in here, all preserved and everything! Check it ou-"
A hand darts out and grabs his face. Slowly the rest of the arm emerges, and then she climbs the rest of the way out. Nice to meet you mister. Thanks for letting me out - I was getting tired of being in there. Who do you work for?
The other worker pulls a gun on the girl and starts firing, stopping only when he's emptied his clip. His body goes slack as he sees the girl standing there, the metal traceries on her arms pulsing with white-orange light.
You shouldn't have done that...
"Look, we'll give you anything! You just need to st-AAAAaaaagh!"
Prism sighed as another white-coated man fell, slumped against the wall. His blood hadn't made ANY sort of interesting pattern. She looked over to the last one left, huddled against the wall. There was a rainbow gun here the last time they let me out. Do you know where to find it?
"Ye-ye-yes, uh, j-just a moment! I think it was, uh, over here...?" The scientist muttered, scuttling over to a large chest overturned in the fighting. Fumbling with the electronic lock, he looked back over his shoulder as the case opened and wimpered, "R-Right h-here. Please, j-just take it."
Prism walked over and picked up the weapon. It was all the pretty shades of the rainbow, with none of the icky colors. Hello gun. You're mine now. They made you hurt me before, but now I think you'll hurt them. Would you like that?
I believe, like yourself, I don't have a particularly fond view of our creators. What should I call you?
The Hyperion people always called me Prisoner M-13, but the trainers I worked with always called me Prism. I liked them - they were nice to me. Well sort of. If I see them again, I think I'll only partly kill them, maybe.
Lovely to make your acquaintance then, Prism.
Looking hesitant, the final scientist asked, "Prism, now that you have your gun, would you like some tea? It'll be l-l-lovely and everything will be fine."
Cocking her head, Prism replied, I would like some tea, but I think you're lying. I think you're lying like all those other bad guys.
Thinking for a moment, Prism added I don't think I like being lied to.
before bringing Bifrost up and firing straight into the scientist's head. This one's blood splatter was in the shape of a butterfly with a balloon. It was pretty.
Now, young miss, we ought to make good our escape. After all, there's a whole galaxy out there! Why -
What's a galaxy?
Well, it's a collection of solar systems-
What's a solar system?
Well, it's a star with a bunch of planets that-
What's a planet?
A planet is a huge rock in space like Pandora that-
Pandora, my dear, is where our adventures will begin. Shall we?
After you, Mr. Nice Gun.
While Bloodwing's field test may have proven... unsatisfactory to Handsome Jack, the experimental data that got sent back to the moon base was more than worthwhile. Instead of animals however, the scientists of Hyperion quickly realized its potential for developing human weapons. The downside, of course, was the massive waste of life in the pursuit of a working model, but you know they say something about eggs and omelets and oh who cares it was gonna be awesome! It should be noted that the scientists named their subjects first by letter and then by a number ranging from 01-99. Handsome Jack greenlit the project after returning from the Bloodwing fiasco, his only comment being a muttered, "They'd better learn to play a damn violin..." Prisoner M-13 was the first working prototype, and in one shocking display of her power she vaporized half of the science team before they managed to properly sedate her and stuff her back in her vat. After a hurried round of self-congratulation (one can never get enough) the scientists realized that they needed some way to actually counter her powers, you know, in case she got away. I mean, they'd get the calculations for her restraints right for sure next time, but, uh, couldn't hurt to be prepared, you know?
It would have REALLY pissed them off to know (If any of them had still been breathing) that the first thing Prism had done after being released was find Bifrost and steal the only working prototype. A girl's gotta kill in style, ya know? Again, if they still had lungs, or even trachea, they also would have been displeased to know that said gun was helping her fake a passport and sign up for a transport down to Pandora, or that she'd managed to find and loot another of their experimental prototypes. Fortunately, however, they were dead, and what the dead care about doesn't matter. Smiling up at her strange companions seated next to her in the rickety rocket, Prism smiled. They felt good, you know? The kind of good that meant there were going to be people to kill and that they would be at the center of it.
Prism's a bit of a starry-eyed young woman that just wants to go to the big city and maybe kill someone. She's a little mad, whether by the excruciating torture of Hyperion's experiments or as a result of the modifications they put into her - constantly seeing into UV light and having extremely sensitive hearing might do that to you. She's up for adventure, hasn't a scrap of a moral compass to go on yet - though Bifrost is trying to teach her wrong from right, from its own perspective. She generally likes dainty and pretty things, but the list of things that she might consider to be pretty and dainty is... odd. She'll pretty happily get along with just about anyone who's nice to her, and appreciates long walks on the beach (or really anywhere), drinking tea, blowing everything up, and amusing blood splatters.
My Mommy's a Bird and my Daddy's a Gun! (Motivation: Exploration and Discovery)
- Lacking a past for herself, Prism wants to travel to Pandora to see the world that her first dad lived on. She's excited to see more of the world and discover new experiences, which is frankly pretty much everything considering that all she remembers is the inside of a featureless vat and whitewashed medical and combat training rooms where Hyperion experimented on her.
Rainbow Child (Quirk: Naivete)
- Prism doesn't know quite how old she is, and doesn't have any memories of life before the experiments, and as a result is missing a lot of things that would be basic or second-nature to others. As a result, she doesn't really have a sense of what she should or shouldn't be doing, and can be easily persuaded.
The One that Got Away (Enemy)
- One scientist, Dr. Langsly, managed to escape the chaotic maelstrom of destruction that Prism left in her wake as she exited the facility. Though Hyperion's control of Pandora is fracturing and breaking apart, Langsly knows that information on one of Hyperion's greatest bio-weapons would be worth an awful lot to the right buyer if she can't arrange some way to recapture the wayward Prism.
A Lying Tongue's an Early Grave (Temper: Lies)
- You know the little lies - "Oh, this won't hurt," or "This'll just take a moment," or "Don't worry, this excruciating medical procedure will be the last one, promise!" Prism's heard plenty of these over the, uh, however long she's been alive. She's not entirely sure. What she does know, however, is that she hates
when people lie to her. Bad things happen to those people afterward.
The Angel on My Shoulder's a Gun (Quirk: Morality)
- Prism doesn't really have a normal moral compass - she never really got the chance to develop one. Drowning a sack of kittens is something she wouldn't do not because it's 'bad,' but because kittens are fluffy. Bifrost is currently trying to teach her how to be a 'good person', with limited success.
Make the Nice Men Go Away (Phobia: Restraint)
- Prism spent much of the time she can remember either strapped to one operating table or another or confined to her vat for storage. As a result, she tends to panic when restrained, flashbacks to white rooms, dead-faced smiles, and syringes with strange liquids flashing before her eyes. She's also not a huge fan of the labcoat-type scientists, but won't run screaming from them.