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LMS - the memories tattooed on his skin



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Tue Mar 14, 2017 1:30 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Eric Braxton

Basics
Gender: Male
Age: 28, about 29
Role: Field Agent Leader

Appearance
Looks: He has a full head of thick, long, black hair and bangs that can cover his eyes if he doesn't carefully care for them. His eyes are hazel with heavy tints of blue and brown but less green on the inside. Generally, however, he wears dark sunglasses over his eyes, especially when he's out on missions. His skin tans easily and he's about a permanent shade darker than most other people. He is a very big and muscular man who carries himself in a dark, almost reclusive sort of way. Most of his clothes come in the colors black, white, or gray.
[Mask: His mask most closely resembles that of a captain, even though his technical rank is about that of a husk. The eyes are a dark gray that look more and more black with less light around. There's a jagged line that stretches over the sealed white lips that goes down the chin and over the edge of the mask, courtesy of Hunter. Also, his mask does not possess the magical properties of the other Splinter masks so it does not enhance his powers and anyone can pull it off if he is not careful with it.]

Personality
Usual: Eric is a calm character who knows how to use the few words he speaks to the fullest. He's one more likely to lead by example rather than inspirational speeches. Overall, he's very serious, sometimes too serious in the context of hanging around friends, but he's not necessarily cold and distant. He always appears and act like he is neatly put together and he keeps his emotions separated from most of his everyday life.
Exceptions: Whenever he's on jobs for Splinter, he's a lot quicker to anger because he's just jumpy and jittery and nervous because he fears getting caught from anyone in DAI and ruining his reputation. Also, he's often more tuned into the energy of himself and others, which makes him uncomfortable. It makes him feel more like Splinter than DAI. On the flip side, around Trinity he's a little less serious and closed off emotionally, even if he's still not a hopeless romantic sweetheart. Perhaps just a bit more caring and endearing.
Habits: Whenever he's unsure of what to say, he pulls his fingers through his hairs rather roughly.

Extra
Possessions: A silver pendant of what could be called "The Life Tree" that is always worn.
Teammates: Trinity, Amelia, Shay, Shawn

History
He grew up in the heart of Splinter's rise. Fortunately for him and his family, he lived in a smaller, much more insignificant town that was never targeted by Splinter in the first few years where they destroyed large cities and slaughtered outspoken activists against influence. Though, a good portion of his childhood was dominated by fear. Fear from his family, fear from himself, fear from the outside world crumbling. It came as a shock that the country managed to hold its own for so long after such a devastating few years.

While he didn't really know it at the time, both he and his father had some semblance of influence. Since he was born with it, it never occurred to him that his slight extra ability to feel the universe around was either abnormal or the evil magic that everyone talked about. But when he was around seventeen, he watched his father being dragged away by some members in Splinter recruiting members. They killed his mother and little sister, but since he'd utilized his ability to sense the attackers, he was able to survive.

He suspects his father is currently still in Splinter, but he hasn't been able to figure out who.

Afterwards, he dropped out of school and enrolled in an academy recruiting for the DAI. It was there that he found a place of his own, a place where he was supported. He never talked much about what brought him there, or much at all, far too scared he was going to say the wrong thing. But he still excelled and eventually found a group that he worked well with. They're his partners to this day.

[last updated: March 21st, 2017]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Tue Mar 21, 2017 11:49 am, edited 4 times in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


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Tue Mar 14, 2017 1:59 am
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SpiritedWolfe says...



The Leader

Basics
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Rank: Leader (Phase Six)

Appearance
Looks: No one, not even admirals, know what he really looks like behind the mask. He never takes it off and he guards his appearance so no one is able to sense it. It's oddly unnerving how anonymous he is, even to his own people. He is always wearing the same dark black suit, which almost looks like a second skin. He wears white gloves and a silky black cape as well.
Mask: His mask is white with golden eyes and big, red lips. The mouth is left opened with a wide, creepy smile and it moves when he speaks.

Personality
Usual: While he is a powerful force, he is not often a cruel dictator of sorts. He is quite responsible with his abilities and can peacefully deal with any issues that come up simply by (fairly) gently reminding a member who is Master. He prefers silent intimidation rather than downright threats when he can help it. Also, the majority of the plans and raids are organized by the Leader, but he works well with his admirals to fool proof operations before acting them out full scale with all the grunts.
Exceptions: He has moments of blindingly brilliant rage. Terrifying moments. When he takes discipline into his own hands, its scarily painful since he has abilities that most people cannot even fathom. These moments are rare and are often directed towards powerful admirals that challenging him or captains who advance too quickly. There are also some members that he straight up does not like, who never last long in the higher positions.
Habits: He has the tendency to sporadically disappear from the base and sometimes reappear at random times/in random places. His entrance is almost never announced beforehand.

Extra
Admirals: Grey, Cobalt, Blaine

[last updated: March 13th, 2017]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Sat Sep 29, 2018 6:29 am, edited 1 time in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Mon Mar 20, 2017 3:31 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



-- 18+ warning for language --

Chapter 2.1 ~ 1,137 words
TRINITY

The walls of my bedroom were rattling, and with my mind wedged in the space between dreaming and consciousness, I could not tell if it was real. My head was throbbing. Though my eyes were still heavy with sleep, I forced them open to investigate the sudden pounding that joined in the cacophony. All that surrounded me was darkness, not even a hint of sunlight struggling through the thick curtains over the windows. What time was it?

The pounding came to a sudden stop, taking with it the rattling and making way for another noise. An agitated voice yelled, “Trinity!” Was that someone at the door? I blinked to adjust my eyes to the darkness, squinting to make out the frame of my bedroom. Strange, the door was wide open despite how I distinctly remembered closing it before I crawled into bed.

Then, the pounding started again, and my mind was finally able to process it as a fist beating at the front door, begging to be let in. I let out a groan before I pushed my covers onto the floor and stumbled out of bed. The voice yelled my name again. In my haste, I slammed into the table that separated the front foyer from the rest of my apartment. I inhaled through clenched teeth and fought back a string of expletives as pain exploded in my side. This better be important.

My hand reached out into the darkness, fumbling for anything to hold on to. But the end of the foyer was closer than anticipated, and my knuckles knocked into the metal door. I fumbled for the knob and threw it open. A flood of lights from the hall immediately blinded me.

“Damn it, Trinity,” a fuzzy figure said, his familiar voice gravelly and tired. “I’ve been calling you nonstop for the past half hour.” I blinked my eyes, rubbing them to adjust them to the light. As my vision cleared, the face of a furious William greeted me.

“What time is it?” I muttered.

He invited himself inside and flipped a switch. Another light burst to life. “Almost 1:45 am. I had to drive all the way over here to drag your ass out of bed.”

Outside, I could hear people from the neighboring apartments grumbling. Some of them shot me nasty looks when I peeked outside. I mouthed an apology before retreating into the tiny foyer, closing the door behind me. William had made some progress into my apartment, turning on more lights in the kitchen.

Agitation seeped into my voice as the grogginess that clouded my thoughts receded. “What the hell is going on?”

He snapped his head, giving me an intense glare as waves of anger just radiating off him. “If you’d f***ing answered any one of my calls, you’d know six agents just died two hours ago.” An electric silence of shock surged through me as I gaped at him. Six? Dead? Two hours?

“What? Who?” The words left my mouth before I could even feel my lips moving.

He turned from me with a cold hardness, dodging the question. “So you just need to hurry and get geared up so we can go to the scene. Now, where’s Eric?”

“Huh? He’s not in the room?”

William walked over to my bedroom. “Hey, Eric, you in there?” When the only response he received was silence, he looked at me with a large scowl sprawling across his face.

I crossed the space to the bedroom and peered into the darkness, only to see the heap of blankets on the floor from when I’d gotten up. No one else was in the bed. I pursed my lips and tiptoed into the room, as if I expected him to be hiding. He was definitely beside me when I fell asleep, and there was no way he got up in the night; he was too noisy, too heavy footed, and he always stepped on the loudest floorboard. Where could he have gone? When? If it was only one am—

“We don’t have all night, Trinity,” William growled.

I spun around to look at his shadowed outline in the doorway. “He was here a few hours ago.” When had I fallen asleep?

“Whatever,” he huffed. “Just get your uniform on and let’s go.” He clicked the light on and left.

Creating my own scowl, I stomped over my discarded sheets and headed towards the right corner of the room. The closet door creaked in protest as I threw it open and gathered a few hangers pressed against the right wall. Then, I ran into the little bathroom connected to the room.

The uniform consisted of a pair of padded tan cargo pants, a pitifully thin white t-shirt, and a bulletproof vest labeled DAI on the back in bright yellow letters. I grabbed my pair of thick artillery boots, worn at most three times and now discarded in the corner of the bathroom. Above those was a towel rack holding my weapon belt. The belt was shiny and new, stocked with two handguns and an assortment of knives. Once I’d suited up, I grabbed a black hair tie from a bowl and charged back into the heart of the bedroom.

I rushed to a desk across the room. My phone and earpiece were set on the edge beside two half opened boxes of bullets. Without even turning on my phone, I shoved it into my belt and stuck the small device in my ear, pressing a tiny button to hear an electronic voice say, “16 missed calls from William.” This was why I typically slept with my earpiece in. Why did I decide to take it out tonight?

I didn’t have to check the ammunition in my guns; I knew they were still loaded.

William waited in the living room, shifting his weight and fidgeting with his hands as he moved them in and out of his lab coat pockets. The moment he saw me, his face gave me a look that said, “Took you long enough.” Once I was in reach, he grabbed my hand to pull me to the door. As I was dragged out of my apartment, my last thought was that he left all the lights on and the front door unlocked.

After a few steps, I gained my footing and joined him in jogging to the door marked “Exit.” The stairwell echoed with our violent footsteps as we sprinted down two flights. When we burst through the lobby, the doorman snapped his head in our direction and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Probably more complaints, or maybe something about the fact that William’s car was flashing its lights brilliantly in front of the door. But he didn’t have a chance as we ran past.

Chapter 2.2 (Trinity)

[last updated: September 29th, 2018]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Sat Sep 29, 2018 6:56 am, edited 4 times in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


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Sun Mar 26, 2017 2:41 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Chapter 2.2 ~ 1,301 words
TRINITY

Once we’d slammed the doors shut and William shifted the car into drive, I asked, “Okay, what is going on?” The siren blared to life with a high pitched wail as he slammed on the gas and turned around in the street.

“I sent you a brief with a video in it,” he said. “I’ll explain more after you see it.” His voice was tense, mimicked by his white-knuckled hands as he gripped the steering wheel. His eyes concentrated on the road blurring past him, but traffic was minimal at this hour.

I did as he instructed and pulled my phone from my belt, powering it on with a quiet click. A sprawl of messages invaded the screen as it lit up, half of them more notifications of the missed calls and the other half frantic messages from William. I scrolled up the lockscreen and found an email with an attachment titled Important.

The scanner read my fingerprint, and the same voice as earlier chimed in my ear, “Welcome, Agent Axali.” Then, the contents of the file faded into view. There was a video that appeared to be surveillance footage and several documents on a woman named Margaret Boyd.

“Who’s Margaret Boyd?” I asked. The files were what I was used to seeing when dealing with a particular civilian: personal history, criminal background, some health records.

“Forber needs you to interrogate a woman,” he said, bluntly.

“Is that why you’re not wearing a uniform?”

His scowl deepened. “Just watch the video.”

I tapped on the video, and the screen dimmed significantly, settling on an image of a dark cellar with a large mass of people crammed into it. My heart sank. The resolution wasn’t great, but from the white splotches contrasting against the dark room, I noticed that every person on the left of the screen was wearing some form of a Splinter mask, most of them Class One. It had to be some kind of rally, from the location to the people down to the masks.

“Ugh, more Splinter creeps, again,” I groaned. “We haven’t had an incident with violent rallies in a long time. How could they take down six of our guys, thought?”

William didn’t comment on that, instead giving me more instructions.“Just pay attention to the empty space.”

Two people stood out in the crowd. One was a man wearing a Class Three mask on a raised platform against the wall, making him a likely candidate for the leader. The other was a young woman standing just on the end of the audience, teetering on the edge of the wide empty space William was talking about. On the other side of it, three agents hovered over a dead man’s body and guarded the only apparent exit, each raising their guns into the crowd.

The video started. The center agent stumbled backwards for no apparent reason. Her finger brushed against the trigger and the gun fired, bullet barrelling toward the young woman. The video was slowed so I could see each frame of its journey into the room. Three other guns went off, the sound of their shots warped and distorted in my ear. I counted four bullets.

Another frame later, and there were none.

A brilliant light flashed in a fraction of a second, and those four shattered into hundreds of individual shards that moved ten times faster than the whole projectile had. The shrapnel tore through each agent’s bulletproof vest like they were made of cloth, fatally impaling them. The footage stuttered as each person crumbled to the ground. The young woman stood motionless in her position, unphased by the gruesome display that occured before her.

My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn’t remember what relief felt like. I couldn’t recognize any of the bloodied faces through this tiny screen, but I just kept staring at them. Like that, so easily gone.

But the video wasn’t over. Movement fluttered in the screen, a precursor to the burst of motion displayed by the man on the platform. He leapt from his position and charged through the crowd. His destination was a faint outline in the back wall, which was apparently a disguised exit intended for a quick getaway in a situation like this. The young woman turned around, but before she had the chance to give pursuit, a third person charged after him. Within seconds, the three of them were gone, leaving a completely bewildered crowd.

My heart was racing, and I was experiencing a fear I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the kind of fear that curled up in my chest and shriveled up my lungs so that I could only breathe darkness, something so deep and severe that even after months of feeling safe, I felt like I couldn’t be comforted again. Splinter was on the move again.

I looked out into the dimness of the car again. “Who?” I managed to mumble, the words almost drowned out by the sound of the siren.

“Hmm?” William swerved into the opposite lane to get around a taxi driving too slow and refusing to move aside, making a mental note of the license plate. The passing streetlights highlighted his serious facial expression, the heaviness of tonight’s case sinking in.

“Who was killed?” I repeated.

He took a shaky breath. “The party was made up of Miller, her team, and two from Jayden’s. It’s awful to lose them so suddenly.”

That was all six?” My eyes flashed back to the video, trying to refocus on the lifeless faces still lying in the entrance. “There were four bullets, and I only saw three–”

“Miller was the first to fire, a mistake, and her three followed. Jayden’s were still lingering in the back of the hall. I couldn’t tell you why they were so clumped. They could’ve been out poking around the warehouse or just keeping watch in the alley.” My stomach was already upset with the insane driving, but the frustration emanating from William and the heavy news only added to the issue.

As the shock subsided, I moved through the video frame by frame in hopes to get a good look at her mask, but all I could see was a while blob and closed eyes, the inherent characteristics of Class One. Only that wasn’t possible.

“She was pretending to be in the rally,” I concluded, “but she couldn’t have been.” I tapped my nail against the screen, momentarily forgetting that William was too preoccupied driving in order to see who I was referring to.

But he caught on anyway. “I say she’s a Class Three with a lower lackey, but there’s so much we don’t know from just this snapshot. Like how platform guy knew they were coming for him next.”

“The way she shattered those bullets to kill six at once tells me she must be Class Four, which means bad news outside of tonight.”

William nodded. “Which leads right back to what Forber is putting you up to. We rounded up some witnesses from the rally, most of whom were unhelpful and clueless. But one woman, who is particularly uncooperative and aggressive, seemed to know a lot more than she was letting on. Somehow.”

My mind felt like it was spinning. This was all so sudden with so many unrelated threads spinning together that lead to even more unanswered questions. How did a sympathizer know anything? Why wasn’t anyone notified of the bust to get there sooner?

And there had been no mention of Eric in all of this. So where was he?

I forced myself to swallow. “What do I need to find out?”

“Forber wants to talk to you about it first and he’ll better brief you on the task,” he replied. “Something about the other two I think.”

Chapter 2.3 (Trinity) - TBE

[last updated: September 29th, 2018]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Sat Sep 29, 2018 6:56 am, edited 2 times in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Mon Apr 03, 2017 3:48 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



NOTE: There was a tiny change to the events of chapter one. It's been indicated in the Chapter One Summary.

Chapter 2.3 ~ 1,006 words
TRINITY


Yeah, this is going to be rewritten too. Don't bother reading it.
Spoiler! :
There were more awkward moments as people cast us hostile glares and tears continued to stream down my cheeks. We were still taking up the middle of the sidewalk and both of us had a place to be. I struggled to control my frantic breaths, but eventually, I managed to pry myself away from the warmth of his embrace.

“So do you forgive me?” His voice sounded sad, as if he had so much more to say, so much more to explain, but he only had these five words to offer. I don’t hesitate as I nod.

“I just wish you could have told me,” I muttered, fumbling to wrap my fingers around his hand.

His arm tensed when I pressed against his side and tried to put my arm around his. Then, he pulled away, barely holding on to the tips of my fingers before walking a few inches away from me. The mixed messages tore my heart to bits.

He held his head down before he said, “Well, I didn’t want to worry you.”

The rest of the walk was largely in silence as I tried to collect the pieces of the conversation that had just occurred. I didn’t understand any of it. Eric, who had mysteriously vanished last night with a curt text of Got a mission tonight. See you in the morning., had just gone from affectionate from distant in the span of a few seconds. There was almost a sense of shame about him, guilt still dripping off of him like the sweat trapped in the fabric of his long sleeved shirt.

I couldn’t understand.

After making some turns and a few well known shortcuts behind buildings, we ended up at the place. It was obvious, since the road was blocked off with a group of agents in the middle of the street, directing any cars trying to get through to the detour just down the road. Some people were swarmed around, held off by a short, wooden fence. The majority of those people were reporters, who screamed out questions and concerns.

I tried to keep my head low and hustle past one of the agents who let us through, a woman who I barely recognized as a new member.

Just down the street, another collection of agents stood right outside the entrance of the warehouse, but as we approached, one of them saw me and broke away. “Trinity!” she yelled, bouncing over to me and throwing her hands around my neck. Eric moved away from us.

“Good morning to you too, Ame.”

“Oh thank goodness you two are okay!” she said through rough breaths. “Eric was down here earlier, but you just never know, right? Splinter’s around.” The last part was said as a whisper, a breath trying to convey the shared thought between all of us.

I pulled away from her and gazed at Eric, who looked rather uncomfortable and eager to get inside. From behind, Shay and Shawn both waved for Amelia to go back and join them. With a warm smile, I said, “Yes, we’re okay. But we’ve got things to do, alright? Go back to guard duty.”

Her face went instantly red as she turned around. She adjusted the extra weight around her waist as well as her uniform before nodding and rushing back to her post in front of the alleyway. Eric led me inside, his expression hardening in preparation for the people inside the warehouse.

William was just inside the entrance, glaring at the door as we entered. “What took you so long? You called thirty minutes ago.”

“I stopped her along the way,” Eric answered for me, casting a heavily apathetic, yet intimidating, gaze in Will’s direction. At that, he completely left my side and walked towards an open door across the room without so much as another word to me. My heart sank.

“Yeah, I tried to come as quick as possible.”

Will’s face softened. “You’re here now. Forber and his guest are waiting.”

My gut wrenched as confusion sprawled over my face. Forber? Here? And he brought a guest too? While it had seemed important with all the alerts and calls this morning, I hadn’t thought it was serious enough to involve Mr. Forber.

Will looked at me as if he wanted to take my hand and drag me down the hall to our left, but he just took off and expected me to follow on his heels. That I did. If Forber and someone important enough to be a guest and be present here were waiting for me, I was in some hot water.

There were two thick doors in the way, one of them propped open by yet another uniformed agent. It seemed as if the entire DAI branch in the city was here to guard the scene. I still had no idea what had occurred and why those agents had died or how anyone knew there was an admin on the loose, but it probably wasn’t important for me to know. Not now at least.

I nodded a thank you to the agent, whose face I couldn’t see, and stepped inside.

Both of them were standing there, watching me as I walked in: Kaleb Forber and Vanessa Reich, the creator of DAI in our country and the agency’s most valuable asset in the government. Without her, I wouldn’t be able to stay on the team as a researcher. I felt the sudden urge to bow.

“Mrs. Axali,” Forber said in his deep voice, “I’m glad you could finally join us. Vanessa, this is Trinity Axali, head of research for the particular device you had questions about.”

In her hands, Reich held a tiny, circular device that looked no larger than a circular battery. It was blackened around its center, with frayed wires coming out of its center. “You are the designer?” She asked me.

I felt like I was on trial. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Reich.” She gave me a disgusted look, obviously unimpressed with my nervous response.


//editing notes
Spoiler! :
~ to be added ~
I'd love some feedback ^^

LOCKED DATE: April 26th, 2017
[last updated: April 2nd, 2017]
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





User avatar
639 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 13700
Reviews: 639
Sun Apr 09, 2017 3:57 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



This is a place holder for chapter 2.4 when I come back to it. For this week's submission, I will be writing 3.1 instead. (My plan is to rewrite chapter 2 completely and then write the ending of it. However, it does not directly lead into chapter 3 so I feel comfortable skipping it and moving on to something I'm more interested in writing.)
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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639 Reviews



Gender: Female
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Reviews: 639
Sun Apr 09, 2017 4:01 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Place holder for the chapter 2 summary, which I will be writing up when I have more time. Just so it doesn't get lost in the middle of chapter 3.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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639 Reviews



Gender: Female
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Sun Apr 09, 2017 4:04 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Because I'm obsessed with organization, I felt it would be important to put the profiles of characters that showcase in chapter 2 before chapter 3. I just don't have the time to write them up before I write 3.1 tomorrow. This would be for Trinity.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Sun Apr 09, 2017 4:07 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Explained in the post above. <.< This would be for Forber. (I'm going to try to have this up by midweek next week!)
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Sun Apr 09, 2017 4:09 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



And this will be William's spot. Eventually (sorry, I'm obsessed with organization.)
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Mon Apr 10, 2017 3:49 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Chapter 3.1 ~ 1,051 words
ERIC


You know, some day I'll stop writing these at midnight. And they'll stop sucking.

Spoiler! :
The tide lapped at my feet, seeping deep into the hour-old cuts and stinging as the water receded again. An ache pounded in my head as sunlight bled into my eyes, and I quickly squeezed them shut again. I heaved a deep sigh and quietly rejoiced as I realized the blood cooling in my lungs had long since drained away. Even my back only throbbed, rather than screaming with the share stabs of pain, pain and more pain.

Still, the memory of last night was seared into my mind and in those brief seconds of consciousness, I was reliving it.

They came in flashes, images that would pop into my brain, wreck their terror, and make way for the next flash. But every flash came with the experience, the bleeding variety of pain that would accompany the event. It started with a knife being buried deep in my back and the sensation of drowning in blood, the taste of it filling my mouth as it overpowered the salt in the air. The flashes moved fast and almost blurred together, until finally lingering on one last image, one last sensation.

The knife had already been coated in my blood at that point, but it all boiled off when that man in the mask, that captain, scorched it with his magic and pressed it into my hand. After that, I couldn't get his voice out of my head. I couldn't push him away.

After trying to hold my back for most of the night, he finally tore down my own barrier and wreck what order I tried to maintain. He knew where to go, what areas to push to get me to lay the glowing, red hot knife against my own skin. He played with my guilt, my memories, my emotions and convinced me it could right my wrongs. I branded myself a traitor in big, painful letters against my left arm.

The memories repeated, the flashes growing more and more dull against the sound of waves pounding around me. The water line now more fully submitted my feet and brushed against my ankles.

Considering I could breathe fine and my arm was no longer on fire, Admin Grey must have healed me enough so that I could live another day. I tried to pry my eyes open again, fighting against the rising pains in my head. The muscles in my shoulders ached and protested as I moved my left arm above me. The word "TRAITOR" blocked out of the sun, scrawled into my skin as a series of burn scars.

I wanted to scream and throw up at the same time. No. No, that couldn't still be there. They couldn't leave me with this scar; they couldn't just expose me like that.

Traitor. I was a traitor to the agency and now anyone could see it to know I was working for Splinter. What would Trinity say? No, what would Forber do to me when he found out? Surely they couldn't let me live, since they'd know I have magic or influence or whatever the terrorists called it.

Panic and terror crammed themselves down my throat and I had to force myself to swallow it. I couldn't be thinking about that now. First, I had to figure out where I was or what had happened or even simply what time it was.

I tore my eyes away from my arms and dug my fingers into the rocky sand around me, some of the more jagged rocks cutting my fingers and clicking against my nails. With the strength I could muster in my groggy state of mind, I heaved myself up into a sitting position, prying my bare skin off the sharp rocks I was laying on. It was both painful and freeing.

The ocean stretched out in front of me, small waves crashing against the beach and swelling up to me. Was this still the dock from last night?

The sunlight still made my eyes ache, but they were slowly adjusting to the bright lights reflecting off of the rocks. It had to have been late in the morning, since the sun was still behind me, but it was already over the horizon and breaking through the tall skyscrapers. As I looked around, I looked for anything the group might have left with me, since my memories still seemed to be intact.

When I saw my tattered gray t-shirt, it clicked in my mind that I was currently shirtless. It was still stained with my blood all around the cuts through it. Of course it was no longer wearable, since it has quite literally been sliced off me as the captain had messed up my back. I tried to remember if the shirt had any meaning to me or if had been one issued by Splinter.

I decided the latter with pursed lips and a bitter attitude.

The longer I sat there, the more strength returned to me and eventually I was able to determine I really would be okay. Despite the brand still obvious on my arm. At that, I reached over and wrapped up my left arm in the t-shirt, trying to best hide the blood stains, which was difficult since just about all of it was still sopping with blood. I swore under my breath.

As I pried myself off the rocky beach, I began to ask myself how I got into this position in the first place. How was it that I, a perfectly capable team leader for the very thing trying to destroy Splinter, got roped into being a double agent for a bunch of terrorists?

Then I would remember when their Leader approached me, armed with his numerous threats that I knew full and well he could (and would) fulfill if I didn't meet his demands. At least I was able to keep Trinity safe, but it still annoyed me that he knew I already had some magic in me. That was something I'd tried to keep hidden from everyone and surprised at every chance I got. Still kept suppressed, even after coming to a deal with him. It gave me a feeling I never liked.

I swore again as I stood up and walked off the beach.


[next chapter link when it's posted]


//editing notes
Spoiler! :
~ to be added ~
I'd love some feedback ^^

LOCKED DATE: TBA
[last updated: April 9th, 2017]
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


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Mon Apr 17, 2017 3:32 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Chapter 3.2 ~ 1,064 words
ERIC


I'm questioning why I'm still writing this ._.

Spoiler! :
From the rocky beach, there was a steep incline that led to the abandoned parking lot of the pier. Luckily, it had stayed abandoned overnight. The only possible sign of life was a drawstring backpack hanging from a rusted, tilted sign, just slightly swaying the salty ocean breeze. My brain feels fuzzy, and I can’t tell if it’s was always there or appeared just now.

The second option seemed most likely when dealing with Splinter.

I moved over towards it, sweeping my gaze across the parking lot and up to the entrance a few yards away. No one was around or coming and even the street just outside was void of cars rushing past. I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

The bag held a change of clothes, some nice ones at that, a spare shirt, and my record journal. I threw on the extra white shirt, despite the fact that it was long sleeves and it was almost ninety out. If it hid the scars and the brand, then it would have to do until I could figure out my next step.

Then I pulled out the journal and threw the bag over my shoulder. I flipped through the pages, skimming to see that the first part was left untouched. Those missions shouldn’t need to be affected by what happened tonight. When my fingers reached the new pages, freshly creased, I knew there would be something written on it. I had a habit of predicting, seeing if I could somehow use my magic to read the book’s mind and spill its secrets before it was even opened.

It was a bad habit that only normalized the sick and twisted abilities I possessed, so I stopped myself after sense an address. I just opened the pages.

As I thought, there was a random address scrawled at the top of the first page. It was a summons of some kind, that I knew, but I thought I was done with the whole “meeting with the higher ups” crap. The brand on my arm burned and itched at the thought.

Just below it was a fantastic reminder of the events of last night, with extra details on the portions I may have slipped in and out of consciousness during. I made a mental note to personally thank Grey when I undoubtedly met her again.

After skimming through the summary, I got to the final portion of the journal, which wrote about what happened to Eric the agent last night. Where he was, what he was doing, and why he was unable to be contacted from the hours of 11:00 pm to 1:00 pm the next morning.

A lump of guilt caught in my throat. That would be one more lie I would have to pull over everyone’s eyes again, exploiting their trust in me. Not to mention Trinity. She’d already put so much faith in me and I repay her with a stab to the back. There couldn’t be a better word to be scarred into my arm at this moment.

I slammed the journal closed and shoved it into my back before heading down to the road. The address was just a block or two away from here. The magic told me it was an old house that had been up for sale for almost a decade now with no interest from any potential buyers or even the owner.

As I walked on the road, the hill to the rocky beach felt dangerously steep, and I found myself edging closer to the center of the road. No one was here anyway.

Finally, I reached the slightly more urban area, but most of the houses seemed dim and empty. This beach was much less favorable to the white sands just a few miles down the road. Or at least the beaches with less jagged rocks.

The house was a tiny, sun-bleached brown structure that looked as if it could fall down any minute. The porch had a rickety old rocking chair in the corner and a set of graying stairs leading up the door, which so happened to be propped open. So someone was expecting me.

I slipped up the stairs and pushed the door closed, just so any possible person passing by wouldn’t be tempted to look inside. As I take a few steps inside, I call out, “So what’s this for now?” My voice echoes in the dusty, rotting house, since it’s almost completely emptied of everything but the basic furniture. No one replied.

My lips pressed into a fine line as I examined the rooms branching out of front foyer. No signs of life; no sign of anyone from Splinter; no sign of Cobalt. I let out a loud sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation. “Fine then,” I mutter. “I’ll just take a shower then.”

I stomped up the stairs, not bothering to mask the obvious creaking that occurred under my weight. The bathroom happened to be right at the top. The floor had a thin coating of dust and sand and the paint was chipping off the walls. Still, I threw off the shirt and pull off the tattered t-shirt I’d wrapped around the brand. I tried not to look at it as I stepped into the shower and let cool water run down my back.

Once I’d finished, I dressed in the spare clothes I’d been given and turned around to examine my back’s scars. In the mirror, I could see the thick lines, like sickly veins, running in every direction. The most prominent scar was a thick line that ran along with my spine and was an ugly mesh of skin that healed too fast. I scowled as I threw my shirt on, another long sleeve gray in color.

After another moment of panicking about the word branded on my arm, I shoved my discarded clothes in the bag and stormed downstairs. At this point, I had little regard of leaving no traces. If Splinter brought me here, they’d certainly take care of it.

As my hand fell on the door knob, preparing to allow me to leave, a voice echoed in my head. You’re not even going to say ‘hello’ first?

My blood froze and I turned around to see Admin Cobalt, in his fully masked glory, lounging in the doorway to the kitchen.


[next chapter link when it's posted and doesn't suck]


//editing notes
Spoiler! :
~ to be added ~
I'd love some feedback ^^

LOCKED DATE: TBA
[last updated: April 16th, 2017]
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Mon Apr 24, 2017 3:47 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Chapter 3.4 ~ 1,007 words
ERIC


This may be a direct contradiction to last part but I'm kind of very meh right now. Just three more weeks.

Spoiler! :
At that, Cobalt slid his feet onto the floor with a loud thud, pushing himself off the back of the chair, which had managed to keep from collapsing so far. It was likely his magic. His grin turned into an amused smile as he snatched his mask from a counter a few steps away. He didn’t fit it on yet, but he gave me a look that t old me everything I needed to know.

It was time for another lesson in acting like a member of Splinter.

I pulled the bag from my shoulder and rustled through it, throwing the excess clothes onto the floor. Neither of us was concerned about secrecy or leaving any traces, since he walked over to the door and heaved it open. As the wooden door was pried from its frame, the board let out a loud screech and creaked as Cobalt leaned against it. Anyone in a twenty mile radius could have heard it, but he didn’t care.

Once I found my mask, he nodded at me and together we fit them into place.

My head spun, the world suddenly shifting, aching, buzzing in my mind and the branching out. I was so much more acutely aware of the feel of the world, the feel of energy crackling against my skin, begging me to mold it and shape it. It was electricity, waiting to be harnessed but I was too inexperienced. I didn’t know how to hold electricity with my bare hands.

Without moving his body, Cobalt pressed against me, his hands grabbing my arms and giving me a place to root myself. His words bounced across my skin, beat against my chest as he said, It’s different today. Was that from Hunter? I nodded slowly, careful not to move too fast and lose my anchor.

My voice was muffled, far away sounding as I replied. “What do you mean?” My stomach felt as if it lurched up into my throat as a rogue wave of energy pressed up against me. Caving, I pulled off my mask. Why was it so much harder this time?

Cobalt watched me behind those glowing teal eyes. The streaks, across the face. You know they’re there, right?

I nod again, glancing down at them in hands. “But that doesn’t mean anything, does it?”

He shook his head and motioned for me to join him as he went outside. If you’re not the one to shape the mask, it changes the balance and the meaning of its energy. It shapes you differently and it means everything. But there’s nothing you can do now but adapt. Put it back on.

Before I followed his order, I hesitated a moment. Cobalt always said with acute enough magic, you’d be able to feel the energy without the help of the mask. It only serves as a tool to focus and tune the energy to your fingers so you might shape it easier. I closed my eyes and waited.

In those few seconds, I tried to imitate what it felt like to wear the mask. In those flashes of darkness, I could almost feel the buzz rushing up my arms, flushing my skin with heat and energy. The crackling sounded in my heads and it was as if I could mold it like clay in my hands. For only a second.

Eric. We don’t have all day.

At that, I bound outside and put on the mask again. It was the same sort of feeling, the constant changing and shifting of the world around me. I couldn’t even see anything yet; it was too hard to make an image out of the jumbling signs, strings, energy being tossed around me.

Then, Cobalt pressed up against me and wrapped his hands around my arm. He began to talk into my ear, whispering things about the world, helping me piece together a picture in my head so I might not be so blind anymore. First he helped me sort out his mask so I could see it so prominently in my mind it glowed. From there, things began to fit into place. His outline, then the shades of colors and shadows around his body. Then his shadow against the ground, blocking out the fading brown wooden planks against the ground.

He was patient and gentle, a quality of his that rarely shown through, but I was grateful for it. Without him by my side, I felt like I was in an overwhelming storm that threatened to tear me away from my body. After however long like that, I had a very static filled – yet stable – image of the yard behind the house. It was very loud.

I’d hoped you’d been spared this, but now we can’t do much with your frazzled influence. This just means we need to focus on a little more physical aspect.

When he lifted up his hand, the image of a knife popped into view in brief flashes. First it appeared, then his fingers curled around its hilt and sunlight glinted off its sharpened metal. And finally, it was really there.

You know how to fight with one of these, right?

I nod. “I’ve done it once or twice,” was the reply from my muffled voice.

Behind his mask, he frowned. You can use your thoughts, Eric. It’s faster that way. But I wasn’t really sure that I could.

He walked over to me and pressed the weapon into my hand, summoning another, equally sharpened one for himself. As he distanced himself from me, he assured me it would be safe to practice this way. Since he was an admin with incomprehensible powers, I wasn’t sure if that was true or not.

What should I do? I thought into the space, hoping he’d catch onto what I said.

His reply was instantaneous. You defend yourself with the piece of metal in your hands. Remember to use your influence to your advantage whenever you can. It’s good practice.

At that, he threw himself towards me at inhuman speed.


[next chapter link when it's been rewritten]


//editing notes
Spoiler! :
Editing Notes

LOCKED DATE: TBA
[last updated: April 30th, 2017]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Tue Sep 18, 2018 10:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Mon May 08, 2017 12:04 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Chapter 3.3 ~ 1,008 words
ERIC


I just realized that I accidentally overwrote this part with that of last week so I'll just post this again. Not that it's any good.

Spoiler! :
My first instinct was to pull a mask over my face, to try and hide or shrink away even a little bit. But I knew mine was below layers of clothing in the worn, stringy bag I’d adopted, and even if I could reach it, I probably shouldn’t. It was marked, scarred like I was last night, with the gray streaks across it, no longer pure. So I just stood there, staring at Cobalt with my naked face and trying not to let the shame show.

He just continued to stand there, examining me and what had happened. Questions barraged my brain until I couldn’t even form the words to speak one and silence dominated the space between us. The feeling made my skin run cold.

Finally, his words drifted into my mind like the soft whispers of my own thoughts. You’re not a husk today. I’m shocked. They rang with cynical mock, despite the playful meaning behind them. I was confused, unsure of his intensions here now. Was he the big Admin or just old Cobalt?

The mask continued to stay perched on his face. I’d demand to know what happened, but I can already tell. Your guilt is so palpable, so real and vivid I can almost remember it. You messed up, Eric.

I bit my lip. “I did what I had to.”

I’m not here to argue with you. I’m not here to pin down what happened, who’s at fault. We already know. Another chill ran down my spine at the use of ‘we’. Splinter was a unit, a well-oiled machine and all the people inside were just parts to make it run. Sometimes I forgot about how robotic they all could be.

“Then what do you want? Why are you here?”

I felt the strain, the sudden surge of anger and emotion that clawed at my mind as his message was etched into my mind. He made sure to be extra forceful. I’m here to make sure you don’t do that again. So that you get it through your thick-skull that this isn’t games. You have three days to get your sh*t together, Eric.

The pressure soon moved to my vision and my balance swayed. I barely caught myself on the wall, my hand straining to grip the wood that felt like it was melting away from it. I felt the weight of the message, the weight of the expectation crushing me, stealing my breath from my lungs, and sapping the strength from my legs. I wanted to collapse and give in.

But then a tiny ringing sound began in my ears, moving slowly through my body and pulling me back to the reality. I still stood in front of the door, and Cobalt lounged against the entrance to the kitchen, just watching me. I felt fine.

He let out a chuckle, and pulled the mask from his face. “Don’t make me do that to you, Eric,” he said with a sigh. “You know I don’t like putting on that mask with you.”

And just like that, the Cobalt I’d grown to like appeared. Whoever that person behind the mask was vanished in an instant. After a moment of looking over his face, I visibly relaxed. “Where were you last night?”

He motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen and disappeared into the crumbling room. As I went after him, he started to speak. “You’d think Sir would let me be the one to ‘discipline’ you? Please. I may be the longest serving Admin but he knows our roles are less… defined. He needed someone stronger, some more ruthless.”

“I guess he chose well,” I muttered, bitterly.

Cobalt laughed as he settled into a rusting metal chair at the table. “So you met Hunter. Figured you’d get a tattoo like that from him; he’s got a thing for knives and burns. But hey, one of the best Captain’s we’ve got.”

I twisted my lips into a scowl. “He’s one of Grey’s?”

He propped his legs up on the chair and nodded, extremely comfortable among the run-down appearance of the home. “To be fair, he about makes up for the two you killed. Him and Raine.”

“Yeah well… whatever,” I grumble, reluctantly pulling up a seat beside him.

A smile stretched wide across his face, illuminating the grey flecks littering his blue eyes. Brief silence flashed between us before he spoke up again. “You’re like a blank slate today.”

Of course he’d been sorting through my mind. I pulled away mentally from him and shut myself off a little more. “There’s just a lot to process right now.”

“So you process it by pushing it away? I’m not the definition of healthy, but I know how to keep a mind going.” The other meaning behind his words felt like they stung.

“I just don’t know where to begin, what to do, what to say.”

He still managed to pick out the missing gaps in what I said. “Don’t worry about Forber. He’s got the run down and the rest is in your journal. But you need to set things straight with Trinity. Come out perfectly clean: you’re not a double agent and nothing illegal is going on.”

I roll my eyes. “Your advice is so useful.”

“I do what I can,” he said, eyes gleaming.

What was I thinking? No matter how lax Cobalt seemed, it wasn’t like he could understand, or even try to fain understanding of how complex relationships worked. He was still robotic, just like everything else in Splinter, fed lines from their Leader himself.

“On a different note,” I began, “what do I need to know for the raid?”

Cobalt smiled a toothy grin. “Now you’re asking the right questions. But sadly I can’t tell you right now. You’re a good guy, Eric, really, but your screw ups have put a tighter seal on my lips. At least you know the dates.”

“Well, do I have to march?”

“You’re a part of Splinter. Of course you have to march.”


[next chapter link when it's posted and doesn't suck]


//editing notes
Spoiler! :
Editing Notes

LOCKED DATE: TBA
[last updated: April 23rd, 2017]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Tue Sep 18, 2018 10:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  





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Mon May 08, 2017 3:41 am
SpiritedWolfe says...



Chapter 4.1 ~ 1,001 words
HUNTER


I'm still counting down the weeks until I can finally rewrite all of this and make it actually good! But, just a small warning that the content of this may be a bit iffy. It's not graphic or particularly mature content but it's darker. Proceed if you wish (or don't because it's not even good and probably not worth reading until I rewrite it.)

Spoiler! :
After living here for over ten years, I got used to the silence. We were always commanded to not speak unless specifically ordered otherwise; for a grunt, that was never. They don’t mind it, but then again, they’re not capable of minding it. By that point, they’re still too young, still too far gone to comprehend anything beyond what they’re told to do. Which means the base is almost always silent.

The only sound down the entire stretch of blank, white hall was the soft click of my shoes against the tile. Even that could only echo to my ears before it died away, smothered by the oppressing silence that surrounded everything.

It was just me in the hall, passing the hundreds upon hundreds of doors that all looked identical. None of them had any special indicating markings, and for anyone who didn’t know what this was, it would be confusing, like an endless maze with only one path. But as my mouth was clamped shut by the lips of my mask, my mind roamed against the doors as I singled out which one was mine.

Some of them were empty, but the vast majority was filled with one single inhabitant. Each of those inhabitants was at a varying stage of induction, some greenies still armed with their names and identities and others just husked stuffed full of their new life, new purpose, just waiting to be set free. The thought put a smile on my face.

After a time, I found who I was looking for right where I expected him to be. Before I entered, I tested his state of mind and was disappointed with that I found. He had since recovered from last visit, but in more ways than physical. For the fourth time, he’d rejected the number and managed to scavenge for a scrap of a new identity. He had a name again.

It wasn’t a matter that would be difficult to deal with.

Hunter.

I spun around, finding Grey behind me as her voice rung in my head. Her mask shone brilliantly in the bright luminescence of the hallway as she waited for my response. Grey.

It’s almost been three weeks, Hunter. How far along is he?

My gaze skittered towards the door behind me before I replied. He’s coming. All he needs is the number and the impression and the real training will commence.

Her frown ebbed into her voice. It’s been three weeks and you’ve been saying that for two.

He’s been easy to consciously mold but his deep subconscious is a bit tougher, stiffer and set in its ways. Whenever I pull out the name, he keeps scrounging together for another one. He won’t keep the number.

Then either kill him or get rougher.

He’ll be worth it, Grey, I assured her. He doesn’t respond to roughness; trust me I’ve tried every knife trick I know. He doesn’t care about the stars, but when he’s crumbled, he’ll be worth it. I’ve got the same feeling like Raine.

She didn’t seem convinced, even fazed at my pathetic excuse to explain why this one pathetic normal was holding me up so long. But she left it be, sending me one last order to meet with her in the housing lounge whenever I was finished with this one. I assured her it wouldn’t be long.

As soon as she was finished, she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, leaving me in the stunting silence alone again.

With that, I adjusted my mask on my face and held the light surrounding me with my fingers. It took some adjusting, but I was able to twist the light into small threads between my fingertips. I sorted out colors and lengths I didn’t need and quickly began to fasten the threads together to form a long stretch of string. All the while, my mind was at work to create the desired illusion to assert myself in the victim’s mind’s eye as the one he would fear.

Only in these situations was I allowed to feign the appearance of our Leader. It was solely for training, I assured myself. Once the disguise was completed – the only difference the absence of the face on my mask. I purposefully left it blank, an uncertainty that would only be fulfilled once the man was shaped into a fine husk.

At that, I opened the door and entered.

By now, my inductee was past the point of needing restraints. His conscious mind was so cooperative whenever I was around to strongly suggest action and he obediently slept whenever I commanded it. But his subconscious wandered too far and tried too hard to repair whatever damage I had done. On anyone else, it might be considered commendable that he was able to hold himself against the horrible person of Splinter. But it just annoyed me, just delayed me to keep me from adopting another inductee.

If anything, it was pitiful how he, a broken man, still clung to the smallest sliver of identity that he might fabricate.

The air inside was a depressing, oppressive atmosphere that stemmed from the center of the room, a continuous sense of hopelessness and dread thrashing against my walls. I wanted to chuckle, to let out some release of tension, but I knew any shift could cause it all to snap, and more of the life would return to this man.

His breaths were shallow as he lay on his side, his eyes practically sewed shut. He would only wake when I pressed my mind against his and forced him awake to begin the day. That’s all there was for him in this current state: me, this room, and the possible endless prospect of sleep, haunted by nightmares of what happened.

He still continued to breathe as I watched.

Then I walked over to him and gave a single, stern voice command. “Up.”

There was no hesitation or resistance. His eye flashed open and he scrambled to his feet.


[next chapter link when it's been rewritten]


//editing notes
Spoiler! :
Editing Notes

LOCKED DATE: TBA
[last updated: May 7th, 2017]
Last edited by SpiritedWolfe on Tue Sep 18, 2018 10:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I was once Wolfare1


"People need to have personality guides so others know how to interact with them... People would get offended and life would be a better place." ~Wolfare1, 2015


I promise I don't bite. Unless your name is Noelle.
  








Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.
— Martin Luther King Jr.