Larkin is like a snake. A very gay snake.

Matthias's head snapped upward suddenly.
"I sense a great disturbance in the force... as if a million straight fifteen-year-olds suddenly cried out, as if in pain, and then were silenced."
The guards looked toward him, eyebrows cocked.
"You gotta let me outta here. Somethin' bad is going on. Like, REALLY bad. Things that shouldn't happen. EVER. Not with government, anyway. LEMME OUT!"
The guards scoffed at his request and turned away. Frustration was beginning to eat away at Matthias, now... his neural implants could no longer supress it. Tears began to form in his eyes beneath his thick black goggles as his entire face twisted into an almost unearthly sneer. He jerked forward, rattling the chains as he attempted in vain to break free, and released an aggrevated howl.
SNAP.
Maybe it wasn't so in vain after all.
Matthias blinked rapidly, then looked at his right arm... it worked again. Huh, how convinient... guess the neural implants really were good for something.
Can't let them know, yet...
Quietly, he dragged the shackle's chain around the strangely shaped half-loop protruding from the wall... as quietly as one can manage scraping metal against metal, anyway. He freed it, gaining mobility, and technically a whip attached to his left hand.
Oh yes. It was time for ass-kicking, indeed.
Matthias snuck toward the bars... the door wasn't very big, two feet wide at most, and the bars weren't so much bars as a big metal grid. His boots clomped near-silently against the cold, damp dungeon floor... closer... closer...
He drew back his metallic arm and slammed it into the grid. It broke free of its wearing, old stone frame and launched forward, bringing almost all the guards with it.
Hee hee, human against stone makes funny noises...
The remaining guard spun around and thrust toward Matthias with his electrical staff. The cyborg barely dodged around it, then thrust forward with a quick left jab to stun him. He followed up with a right-uppercut, lifting the guard clear off the floor (that metal arm's got powah behind it, y'know) and flinging him on top of the rest of the fallen watchmen.
Matthias smiled, surveying his work, then a thought crossed his mind; it's cold as hell around here. A very cold hell. A coat would do nicely...
He sat down, scowling, wrapping his arms around himself to try to keep warm (which doesn't work well with a metal arm). He released a sigh... he shouldn't even be here...
Matthias was what one may consider a mad scientist... more of a novice at it, really, but he somehow managed to cook up some inane concept of interdimensional travel. No one quite knows WHY one would require interdimensional travel, but, hey, everyone needs a hobby. After trying to figure it out through equations and then remembering he failed Math in high school, he shrugged and just went with his gut. Evidentally, he had a very smart gut; he did something right in the construction of the machine... he was considering giving it a complex technobabble name, like "Quantam Displacement Field", but decided he'd just call it, "The Thingie". He went to test The Thingie, but found it wouldn't run without the correct amount of power... so, after "borrowing" some resources from his local electrical plant, he tried again. Still no dice. Eventually, he dragged his machine (after minimizing it and installing it in his ever-useful arm) to a nuclear power plant, finally finding the amount of energy required, and dimensionally hopped... at total random. Bringing him to Darkworld.
His eyes widened. OF COURSE!
He punched a few buttons on his arm, then fired it at the wall. It began to spiral and twist, then imploded, leaving a swirling blue vortex... not nearly enough energy for him to travel back through, of course, but maybe well enough for him to get...
He extended his metallic arm, grabbed what he'd left on his counter, and drew back quickly. The portal began to close on him, nearly taking off the object he'd brought through - a black leather trenchcoat.
A grin split Matthias's face. He donned the garment, and was happy for a moment. Didn't last, though. According to the gauge on his arm, he won't be able to store enough energy to bring anything else back through for a LONG time... weeks, maybe months.
Ah well. A coat's a coat... and now he be stylin'.
... But no closer to getting out of this dank hellhole.
He frowned, experiencing sudden nausea (interdimensional travel can do that to you), and sudden deja vu.