CATALYST {Super Hero RP} RP Thread

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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border:none; font-size:6pt; color:white; width:370px; text-align:justify; margin-top:15px; line-height:14px;]Sign up; https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2338201.0[/fancypost]
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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border:none; font-size:6pt; color:white; width:370px; text-align:justify; margin-top:15px; line-height:14px;] A wind blew in from the north-east from across the waters of the bay, bringing with it cooler temperatures and dark clouds, signs of a not uncommon summer storm. The early morning air held silence like something precious. The normally busy city streets were not yet jammed up with traffic and cars, and the tall building of the main streets were still dark, not yet occupied with their usual patrons and office workers. Times like these were few and far between for Merridia city, even at this hour. But in a city like this nothing was ever completely quiet.
    On one particular street on the north side of town, not too far from the harbors, but far enough away that the constant smell of fish and other odors associated with the docks weren't quite as strong, there was one particular building that was operating unlike any of the others around it. The five story building was made out of red bricks, and had large church-like windows, covered by blinds and shades so as those walking by could not quite see in, although the glass itself was made in such a way that it was more like looking through cloudy ice than it was like looking through your traditional glass. Lights were on inside, showing signals of life, and the occasional silhouetted figure passed by the windows. Like many of the buildings on this particular street, it was an old warehouse, renovated to be what it was now, but much was kept the same. One such notable feature was the presence of a painted on black logo, faded by the weather and the years, but still clear enough to read: "GREY HOUND SHIPPING AND STORAGE" around in a circle that surrounded the logo of an old looking hound dog. It was a logo of a business that had long since been shut down, but now it represented a whole different kind of organization.
    While the outside might have been unassuming and arguably rather very easily missed, the operations on the inside were of no such caliber. Inside was housed the facility of a very specialized organization, specifically with the purpose to counter the Catalyst super chemical, and those enhanced by it, by any means necessary. No oversight, no government babysitting. And this meant they could do thing that a normal organization couldn't, that included employing agents that they themselves are enhanced by the Catalyst chemical, regardless of background, regardless of pasts. It was very much of the mentality that the only way to fight the beast was to become the beast. They were the hunting dogs used to counteract those who used the chemical to become super. But acted for themselves because of it, who caused people pain, and who used their powers to turn a quick profit off of the chemical. Destroying lives, families, etc. I think you get the idea here. And so they kept the name of the building they inhabited. The organization went by the name of Grey Hound.
    It was on this morning that a group of some such people were being called together. People called because they have abilities, each with their own reasoning, their own agendas, and their own crosses to bear. But there was one thing they all shared. Whether or not it was willingly, they were going to work together to make sure that nobody else's life was going to get ruined by the chemical, and that the drug wouldn't spread outside of the city. In its own way it was like some kind of twisted super hero open house. Except replace the loads of parents dragging their unwilling children around to look at a school with a bunch of super powered people walking around and looking at a clandestine secret agency...


    One such person, although not exactly supered up on Catalyst, was a young woman by the name of Arie Bordeaux. And although the drug hadn't exactly affected her body specifically, it had technically caused her injuries that lead her to be what she was today. Some sort of cyborg with bionic legs and augmentations and even a bionic arm that had more apps than an iPhone (And no free U2 album). Her somewhat short cut hair was a very intense red, swept out of her face and the sides coming down to just barely below her ears, complimentary to her green eyes. Her skin was fair and unmarked on her face, save a small black dot below her right eye which was barely noticeable, her lips were lightly pink and her lashes long. She wore a jacket which was a visible red color for the most part and had a slightly flared collar. Under that second jacket she was wearing a black low cut shirt which seemed rather light, it's long sleeves visible at her wrist. On both hands she wore gloves. The shirt stopped just above her waist, showing about a centimeter of her skin before it became the pants, which too were black, although faded in somewhat odd places, due to the fact her legs were not exactly real legs. The bottom overlapping the top of a pair of olive boots, steel toed. As she walked in the doors into the main lobby she was given a sort of look by the woman behind a small desk, a sort of receptionist that was there to just sort of point the people in the right direction. And that she did, indicating lazily with the pointing of her thumb towards a set of doors to the side that led into a sort of board room, before she resumed filing her nails and noisily chewing some bright pink bubble gum. Arie followed these rather simple directions and made her way into the board room, taking a seat in one of the chairs, which either unfortunately for her, or for everyone else had wheels on it. And Arie, being one of the first to arrive, let there be no wasted time before she began idly spinning in the chair slowly waiting.
    But she was not fully alone in the room against the wall was a woman of a light complexion, her face, describable as somewhat cute and rounded, was dotted lightly with freckles predominantly on her nose and out onto her cheeks, and was accented by a pair of glasses, the frames of which were angular and grey. She had dark brown hair, thick yet short, swept out of her face and kept back by a simple paperclip, the sides curving around her ears, in which was a panda shaped earring, almost brushing her shoulders, but short by about an inch or so. She wore a White lab coat that seemed a size or so too big for her height of about 5'5" over top of a black sweater and a skirt of the same color that went down to just above the mid thigh on her proportionally long legs, which were slender, going down until they met a pair of blue sneakers. She was quickly reading over the contents of a beige colored folder, which she held out in her off hand, the contents of which would have been hidden from view. She looked up from her reading and offered a nice sort of smile to Arie as they saw each other, to which Arie responded with a simple quick flick of the wrist sort of wave.
    It was to be soon that others would start showing up. [/fancypost]


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    track.
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    [align=center][sup][color=transparent]#lightsymadethis

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    "Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to fight?"



    A man, a man who no one knew. He was like a ghost, in and out, and left no trace of himself. The man was named Gage Bailey, a hired assassin who did the dirty work for other people. It wasn't his favorite, more of a hobby that paid the bills, so a plus. But he was heading to a building that he knew very well. Grey Hound, the name made him cringe. He was walking slowly in the streets, the only thing that stood out about him was the pastel blue streaks in his meticulously styled platinum blonde hair. He was wearing a grey trench coat over a simple black tie, and white dress shirt. He was the best at blending in, the Catalyst drug gave him the ability to turn invisible, but not without a price. If he doesn't "recharge" himself, he will have a heart attack. Which is his secret. He hummed a song he knew very well, one that calmed him. As he approached the building, he decided to go undetected. He closed his eyes, and felt himself change, when he looked down, all he saw was the ground. He nodded, and headed into the building the back way.




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    haha thanks. gildarts is my personal problematic favorite. also sorry for the lack of character template, just wanted to get this done first before going to bed. and hidden scrolly warning.




    The city was about as bland as usual, save for the few rumbles of a storm that began to roll in through the north-east. The light through the window of her room was soft and dim from the dark clouded sky, complimenting the shades of whites and grays that the room was colored and decorated with. The walls were an exposed brick painted white due to the sheer fact that the original color was already a bright green color, contrary to the usual classic red of a fireplace on Christmas morning. Beneath a large window sat a mattress flat on the muted brown hardwood, with multiple grey and soft grey-green blankets of assorted textures. Beneath these covers was a young female with dark hair that was tinted with contrasting shades of greens, pinks, whites, and multiple other colors.




    Nora Kid Crawford was her name; nineteen years old and still slept in like a child that refused to go to school. Her first name was purged by herself and she was now only known as Kid, due to a past of torturous treatments and therapy. And that wasn't the facetious type of torture-- this was the kind of torture that you heard about in history lessons during the world wars. Degrading humans of their own naturally born rights and treating them worse than even the lab rats in the most deadly experiments. But enough about the past, this was the present. And she was currently late.




    Late? Kid's body jerked itself up, bringing her hands to rub her eyes. Dark red scars, the kind that you could tell were deep by the way they left indentations in the skin and were the most prominent against the skin, twined around her arms and fingers individually like strings. Black nail polish half chipped off circled her thin nails. Her sparkling green eyes fluttered open, dark circles prominent beneath her eyelids. The oculars had to adjust for a few moments to let her gaze travel around the loft apartment. Her roommate, Dagen, was already off on his own job down at the news station, and had made breakfast for Kid. She stood up slowly, making her way over to the fridge to take out the ham and bacon omelet sandwich Dagen had left for her.




    It was pretty obvious what she would do after eating. A quick shower, taking care of the usual necessities, and giving her room set up a bit of a cleaning was her usual routine in the morning. She made sure to water the plants that lined along the windowsill above her bed, and to take out the camera batteries from charging to avoid overcharge. "Late for some stupid meeting that I probably shouldn't even go to." She mumbled under her breath, throwing on some proper clothes. An old and worn out Nirvana shirt with the sleeves cut off, some somewhat ripped bleached jeans, and of course no shoes was her outfit for the day. In fact she practically wore the same outfit three days a week, since she owned about a pair of the same shirt each. She wrapped her 'floss' around her wrist as she began to take the stairs down. She lived on the seventh floor of her apartment complex in the loft; it was the highest, with the best view, and Kid didn't mind the trek up the stairs too much.




    Arriving at the warehouse, Kid's hair was for the most part dry. She sighed, realizing she had forgotten her mask. "No harm in a little facial recognition." She mused aloud, entering the building. She flashed a charming smirk to the receptionist at the desk before following the directions into the board room. She pushed the door open with medium force, waltzing in casually. She swung out a chair and sat backwards so she could rest her chin on the back of it. She raised her arm in greeting, before letting it drop again. Man was this a bore. Her eyes traveled over to Arie, slowly taking her in. She looked pretty cool, if you were into terminator. The thought made her smirk to herself without realization.
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  • Thomas Damien Wright
    In the heat of battle, one may acquire a peculiar taste...

    A boy sat behind the barrier on a roof, a lollipop switching from corner to corner of his thin, colorless lips. Held to his eyes was a set of military-grade binoculars he had stolen from one of his contacts- a man who illegally modified and imported smuggled weapons. He wore a thick black cloak, the hood now resting on his shoulders as he gazed down at a building perhaps a mile away. Beside him, on the barrier, a plain white mask sat with a slight, graceful smile. A red-painted spade sat on the left cheek, but otherwise it remained simplistic in nature. As a continuation of his new self, its useless position on the ledge made it appear more and more like a severed limb than a mask.


    Thomas took the mask and secured it around his neck, not yet returning it to his face. He glanced into the binoculars again, thinking of the passing moments that may have occurred if this had been held at a less opportune location where nobody ever slept. Would it have been the same, or did the passive recognition extend to the moments of awkward placement? Either way, he couldn't dwell on the specifics of rhetoric. It did, however, interest him on just how little people knew of the world they called "theirs". They laid claim to the lands and seas, and yet the knew not what waited at the near the sea floors, nor did they typically know what heinous acts of human trafficking that had created the ones they should fear the most. Their naivety was that of lambs ready for the slaughter.


    Yet, even then, the true massacre was outlined in the basis of this mysterious "Grey Hound". Every movement against CATALYST hinged on this one organization, but there were so many that would unwittingly fall into an oubliette that their revenge undoubtedly would blind them to. He, however, had prepared himself to abstain from that particular trap.


    As a woman entered the building, he placed the binoculars in a small bag full of a few emergency things in the case that he needed them at any point. He hid them well before moving to a fire escape. He moved down with only slight noise, a hazard of weight, and placed the mask securely on his face as he moved past metal and buildings towards the place he had been called to be at.


    As he neared, he secured the hood over his mask, hiding nearly all signs of his identity as his hands were covered by black gloves. He didn't want to leave any trace that could lead any of the less trustworthy members to where he lived. Already he didn't trust Grey Hound, and these various other CATALYST subjects were even more disconcerting to him.

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    "Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to fight?"



    Gage slipped in through the open door to the boardroom. He wasn't one for sitting down, so he stood in the far corner of the room, not wanting to reveal himself until he felt nessicarly. But he couldn't believe he was here, he only heard briefly why he needed to be here, but he hated helping people. He rubbed the small branding on the back of his neck, a barcode that was used in his torture. He bit his lip, as more people
    came in, he wondered how many would show?




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    First lesson learned today; Its nearly impossible to maintain a low, inconspicuous profile with an 8’’ crescent wrench sticking out of the back waistband of your tattered olive cargo pants.
    Then again, there really wasn’t time to be caught up in the melodramatics of a secret meeting, or wanting to be mysteriously disengaged when you’d barely just made it out the front door. Sabine Lyndel let out a noise halfway between a furious grunt and forlorned sigh, the sound just barely audible behind the stale asiago bagel wedged between her pristine white ivories. The young mechanic had just barely cannonballed out her shabby front door, the metallic “Dromio’s Mechanics” lettering stitched into her navy ballcap glinting in dull morning light. A disheveled mass of tied off mahogany curls swung down her back, tickling the bare caramel midriff just below a baggy alabaster crop-top. You could hardly call the color of her shirt white though,Well, beneath all the work stains and such. Worn red converse slapped against uneasy sidewalks as one very tired woman dashed down the street--dodging cars and bystanders alike in efforts to reach her obscured destination. Honestly, she could have just driven, but in her extreme frenzy to get out and into her gloomy city, she’d forgot both sets of car-keys. Sabine had been up all-night, tirelessly running calculations and banging away at broken cars in her adoptive father’s semi-respected automotive repair shop. Fixing a carburetor here--doing monthly oil checks there. Though grueling--the work had provided ample distraction for what the next day would bring.
    Grey Hound
    Eyes of mixed emeralds and churning hazel hues narrowed, kindling small coals of doubt and suppressed anxiety. She’d received the open invitation weeks ago, barely giving the summonings a second thought before tossing it in the trash. She wouldn’t be made into a weapon by another shady organization; more scrutinizing eyes. But, despite that concrete resolve, here she was now, biting lips of dark brown and flying down city streets. And why? The former CATALYST subject rounded another corner--ignoring the looks given to her and her less-than-professional appearance; the grease smudges on her freckled cheeks and light work-cuts on her calloused hands. Let um’ stare.Sabine had more important matters to convene with. She was nearing the facility.
    Honestly she was rather underwhelmed. Staring at the building beneath the shade of her ballcap, the 20 year old really couldn’t fathom what she’d find inside, or why it was of such great importance. Pristine walls? Syringes? Her head involuntarily shook. Cross-crossing scars along her bare shoulders metaphorically burned--reminding, terrifying, threatening to pull her back. But still, Ms. Lyndel pressed on, skirting to a heaving stop at the cold entrance. Good god she’d just sprinted around 24 blocks! Sabine struggled to suck in what little air she could, doubling over momentarily as she placed hands on her well-muscled sides. This was it…. Well, it would be. As soon as she could stop breathing like a addictive chain-smoker. Sabine placed a shaking hand on the regal brick wall to her right, coughing a little as he breathing slowed. This was ridiculous! I need to run more. She nodded vigorously before straightening to take a large bite out of her bagel. Remarkable how she’d managed to keep into lodged in her mouth the entire run. In her moment of embarrassing recovery (more like substantial stalling) the mechanic had hardly noticed an approaching figure; none other than Mr. Thomas Wright.


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  • Thomas Damien Wright
    A taste not quite for blood or for revenge...

    Thomas silently took the roundabout means of crossing through the vacantly waiting streets and lazily blowing breeze to the brick building nearly a mile away. He moved at a slow jog, hardly making any unnecessary movements. He avoided the main roads and any other path that was likely to home another of the mutated CATALYST prisoners. He knew he'd have to mingle eventually, and honestly looked forward to it, but he would rather meet them in an area of mutual interest and dwindled stress so that they'd be less leery. Perhaps he would be less leery of everyone. He didn't need to distrust Grey Hound and those that should understand what he went through.


    As he came out of the back alleyways and into the a open area before the warehouse, he found a woman leaning against the cool brick in front of him. He stopped short, staring at her from behind his mask as he took in her countenance. She had flawless olive skin, marred only by a discord of thin silver lines peaking wickedly from underneath the fabrics of her crop-top. The ones near her neck and shoulders that he knew were doubtlessly there were covered by her long and lively mass of hair.


    He took a deep breath, centering himself at the same time as alerting her gently to his presence. Despite the fact that she wouldn't be able to see it, he smiled a bit and approached her with a leisurely pace. She seemed out of breath from her run, and the biological energy coming from her was slightly erratic to support his inference.


    "If you need some water, I have a flask," he offered, opening the cloak to reveal dark jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. Attached to a belt loop, a small chain secured a flask in place, a gun strapped around his opposite thigh and a switchblade clipped to the pocket beside the flask. He unhooked the flask, the cloak falling back into place as he held it out to her.


    A little bit of kindness went a long way for people, and he needed allies. Even if he didn't necessarily want to get avidly involved with the matters that would be discussed in this rendezvous, he knew that the knowledge was invaluable and priceless to him. Besides, he really did want to know others like him. The usual group of low-intellect, average humans wore him out, and this crowd interested him very highly.

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    [justify]As Arie wasn't the sort of person who particularly liked waiting around in rooms filled with strangers and the swivel chair was beginning to wear on her, she took out her phone to check the time. With a sigh she figured most of her other future compatriots were not necessarily the punctual type of people. She took note of the one who she could see had showed up. Her smirk in her direction making her wonder what exactly what she was thinking, and her general look about her made Arie even more intrigued. She regarded the scars on Kid's arms, probably caused by whatever the hell Baycrest did to her to get her abilities to show. Just the idea of that made her shiver slightly. Although that said, Arie was kind of envious, mainly of the fact that the other girl had all of her apendages, it was something probably taken advantage of. Still, if she had the choice she probably wouldn't have traded her current legs away. They may have caused pain in the past, when you know, they were blown off, but now she could actually be better than she was before, do something important. Or at least that's what she tells herself to make it seem worth it.
    "So, Doc." She started, looking up at the woman in the labcoat who had been standing in the room the whole time. She looked back, giving Arie her attention and a friendly look. "How much longer are we going to wait until this thing gets underway. I mean not to be rude but... You know." 'Doc' closed her folder that she was reading over and set it down on the table beside her, looking at Arie and Kid, and she would have look at him if she could see Gage, sort of thinking for a moment.
    "Well, there are other people who should be arriving any minute..." She looked down at the watch on her wrist and then back up to the two that she could see in the room. "I'm sure they'll show up soon but I guess we can sort of get started, at least to a degree. Why don't we start by, uh, introducing ourselves. Red. why don't you start?"
    "Really? Introducing ourselves? That's how much stalling we have to do?" Arie said as she then looked at Kid. "Plus it's just the three of us in this room, there wouldn't be much more to it than, hey my name's Arie, what's yours, oh that, cool nice to meet you."
    The other woman kind of looked at her, moving back, having not expected the simple idea to really get that much resistance. "Well, I mean that's kind of what you just did, Red." She pointed out, and then looked at Kid herself. "She's probably just had a long night, and hasn't slept much." She offered a warm, welcoming smile as she moved to the boardroom's door to look out of it, as if to check if anyone was entering the building. She used her body as a sort of stopper to keep the door open, before realizing something. [color=pink]"Oh yeah, by the way, you may call me Doctor Claire Vandersyde, or any combination of that or, you know. I'm designated as the one who will be welcoming all of you to Greyhound, and educating you about what it is exactly that you are here for. If you have any questions or need anything from be, don't be afraid to ask, okay?"
    She said.
    For working at a top secret organization with the mission to control Catalysis, yada yada that whole spiel again, she was surprisingly friendly, and didn't really seem to fit in with the sort of general impression people usually have of these kind of organizations.
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    "Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to fight?"



    Gage debated turning visible in his head. He was going to have to get to know these people, something he hadn't down since Catalyst. He closed his eyes, and appeared in the corner of the room. "Gage Bailey, don't wish to discuss more, also just call me Gage." He tucked his hands in his coat pockets, and stuck a foot against the wall. He ran his hand through his hair, to fix it, then stuck it back in the pocket. He was fiddling with a knife that was inside, he could throw it just in case. But a cyborg, and a nice doctor didn't seem to be that type of crowd.




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    The crawling feeling of eyes on her back alerted Sabine of a presence--a band aid covered hand instinctively reaching to the makeshift weapon of her crescent wrench…..But she couldn’t exactly muster the sufficient energy to be entirely hostile. Well between wheezing and struggling to stay conscious. She stiffened slightly as he drew in a breath, mentally preparing for mutinous smalltalk that was sure to follow. She didn’t have time for this!


    "If you need some water, I have a flask,"


    OKay, maybe she had time for this. Sabine swung (More like stumbled) around, involuntarily taking a few steps towards the stranger before lifting her eyes to the man. She met a white patterned mask, sufficiently obscuring any want of view of his face. The woman swallowed her current mouthful of bagel rather loudly, raising a hand to lift her ballcap off her forehead and finding it nearly impossible to break this strange gaze. It wasn’t fear exactly; more excited intrigue. Was he a CATALYST subject? Better question, was he a friendly? His hand is what got her attention and gave her the willpower to break eye contact with the strange covering. Sabine’s small frame gave a sudden jolt as she reached an epiphany, gaze flying back down to the outstretched flask. She tilted her head, as if not quite comprehending the offer for a few moments. When suddenly, it made sense. Water! Yes! Dear god please! She reached out a little too quickly to snag the flask and accidentally missed her mark--latching onto the stranger’s wrist instead. “Sh!t” Sabine recoiled immediately but not entirely, no. She wasn’t willing to let the promised water get away from her. She awkwardly reached forward again, her fingers wrapping around the flask this time. Wasting no time at all she snatched the thing and took a few loud, unattractive swigs. Good lord it was borderline orgasmic. She was going to strap at least six flasks of water to her back for the rest of her freaking life. Sabine nearly forgot about the man who’d given it to her. Breaking away from the water, she lifted her face back to this heavily shrouded man, and smiled. A big, crooked, flashing smile like she’d known him all her life. “Thanks spade,” She referenced the red marking on his mask before subconsciously winking (one of her many habits). “Thought I wasn’t going to make it for a second there.” Most people might be slightly perturbed by the gun--military grade knife strapped to his body. Luckily, Lyndel wasn’t most people. She seemed completely at ease, shoving a free hand into her baggy cargo pants before fixing him with that brilliant gaze, still holding onto the flask like it was her last lifeline.


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    The post was edited 1 time, last by Scully! ().

  • Thomas Damien Wright
    But a taste for the passivity of memory...

    Thomas watched her as she reached desperately forward. He was mildly surprised when she grabbed his wrist and nearly took a step back, but then she recoiled sharply. He calmed himself merely by force, the feeling of fingers still emanating from his wrist. He would have to be careful around here, especially when contact was the main form of human expression. Avoidance was only easy when the others were not open to contact, and he hoped their pasts would make that easier.


    He rubbed absently at his wrist, staring down at it as he attempted to convince himself that he wasn't being restrained. When his heart calmed he forced himself to look back at her as she finished the flask. She didn't look close to relinquishing it, and he didn't blame her. She was obviously in a bit of distress and that flask had become a survival mechanism for someone who probably needed something of a similar nature quite often. They all did, in one way or another.


    Her wink was charming in and of itself, although he knew it wasn't intimate in any way. He simply dipped his head respectfully to her and motioned to the doorway of the warehouse. It was best that they were lost in generality before he had to threaten her with his PTSD again.


    "I'm sorry to rush you, but we both seem to be modestly late. My name is Thomas, by the way. May I ask yours?" He kept his voice light and polite, hoping to return her warm welcome. She could keep the flask: he had brought it (and a granola bar in his back pocket) so that he could charm the others. He did need trustworthy allies, and she already he could tell that she would be a powerful on- at least in enigmatic charisma.

  • [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; borderwidth= 0px; font-family: bookman oldstyle; font-style: italics; font-size: 19px; margin-bottom: -60px; letter-spacing: 6px; text-align: center; color: white;][align=center][shadow=black,bottom]☆ KID CRAWFORD
    "CANDYFLOSS"
    [size=9pt]NINETEEN; ENHANCED COGNITION.[/size][/shadow]

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    somewhat rushed, excuse any errors




    Kid grinned at Arie's comment about introducing herself. They weren't too different, the two of them. Besides outward appearances and past experiences, there was a likelihood that the two were practically embodiments of the same ideas and personality traits, save for the few that made each one unique. There was the obvious fact that Arie seemed quite bothered to be here, whereas Kid didn't really have much else planned for the day.




    Usually on days off, Kid would struggle trying to catch up on sleep if possible. It was kind of something she took for granted before her experimentation process. After which she didn't even sleep a full hour in the night for an entire year, and now she'd only get a total four hours of rest on a good night. She'd already submitted her six images this week to the newspaper and received a nice pay of about $30 per image, earning a sum of $180 a week, mainly due to the fact that she was practically the only nature photographer in the area. Besides, she knew her boss personally and between hitmen, CATALYST projects, and constant robberies, it was hard to keep a positive image up of the city without a price. It was all fair game for a pack of wolves, in simple terms the strongest-- most rich-- would prevail. Basic law of nature.




    The androgynous female looked up at the Doctor when she mentioned Kid was tired looking. "I'm always tired. Kind of a news flash: most CATALYST survivors aren't the most sound sleepers." She spoke with hard eyes, but a teasing smirk played across her face. It was hard to tell if she was serious or joking. That was common for Kid's remarks involving CATALYST; for the most part her jokes were still jokes, but there was signs of sincerity and truth behind the mask of a short winded laugh.




    Hearing the offering of a name from the Doctor, Kid tasted her chin on the back of the chair again. She lifted an eyebrow when she mentioned to willingly answer any questions she or any of the others had. She considered asking why they were called here, but that was probably going to be answered whenever the others arrived. However long that would be. She pulled some of the twine from her wrist, carefully toying and twisting it between her fingers. The multicolored wire resembled yarn with the braided technique used to reinforce it, but was anything remotely similar. It was her own invention of polycarbonate designs, mixed with plasma wire, and crafted for a




    Kid's head lifted up from her steady gaze at the Doctor to look over at Gage, who had kept himself mostly hidden up to this point. Well, it was kind of awkward because now she was the only nameless being in the room. She looked at Gage, to the Doctor, and at Arie. "Wait so we're still going along with this anyways?" She spoke quietly, exchanging the glances. She rolled her eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh. "It's Kid. Short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue." She introduced herself casually. She turned her gaze back towards where Gage was, narrowing her green eyes. He seemed like quite the reserved type, but looked more than capable of holding up a conversation if she prodded enough. Only one way to find out. "You going to sit? I'm pretty sure neither of us bite." She called him out with a short winded laugh, running a hand roughly through her hair, ruffling the muted pastel mess away from her face.
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    you do not type here. this is just to make the effect of the side scrollie thing.
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    [align=center][sup][color=transparent]#lightsymadethis

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    "Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to fight?"



    Gage shook his head, "This corners nice. Nice and cozy, just like hell." He gave her a smirk, to go along with his sardonic comment. He didn't want to be social, he was here because he was told to be here, and was afraid of what might happen if he didn't show up. He shook the thought away, before he had a flashback, and lost control. He decided to fiddle with something other than the knife, so he began to fiddle with a small ring from a woman he had killed last night. He could remember it as though he was there now. He had kept it clean, but not too clean. He had shot the woman, as he walked up to her, so she saw his face. He had then removed the ring, and closed the woman's eyes. He wasn't an animal, no. More of a redeemer.




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    [justify]Doctor Vandersyde sort of stumbled over herself as Kid explained her whole lack of sleep thing. "No, I didn't mean it like that, it's just that... oh, you were uh, pulling my leg, or something." She kind of trailed off. It was fairly probable that she wasn't the best on picking up the subtleties of human behavior and conversation. She looked kind of like the sort who barely got out of her house, or work. Preferring the company of her work or her self to keep herself entertained. Probably for a variety of reasons, one of them being said density when it came to conversational awareness.
    When Gage revealed himself the doctor jumped, thinking that she must have missed him coming in, but she didn't feel like it was all that necessary to go over all that was just said once more. Arie, on the otherhand, didn't seem all that shocked. The question in her mind of who else was she going to be with here had already kind of been in her mind since the good doctor had told her she would be doing this, and of course that she would have no say in the matter. Of course she wouldn't, she never did have any say.
    Neither of us bite...
    "No promises from me." Arie said, the grin on her face rather large as she leaned back in the swivel chair, using her hands to brace her head as she did so. But it seemed like the man had no interest in joining those of them in the chairs. What a shame, but it was his loss more than hers really. He didn't sit, that just meant he would be standing this whole time. To be honest she wasn't quite sure what else there was to say about the subject, really it was just as simple as that. "Ha, Ha, I get it, because you're so bad to the bone, right? OR does that imply some sort of devil worship?" She joked around with him. Hey maybe it wasn't the funniest thing to say in the situation, but it got her point across that the man had himself, made a rather poor joke, at least in her mind. [color=red]"We're certainly some sort of odd bunch eh? Have to wonder who put this line up together."

    It was around then that Doctor Vandersyde noticed that there was another body coming down the hall towards the room, and she offered a smile at the approaching woman, and used her arm to wave her in, affirming that this was probably the room she was looking for.
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  • Thomas Damien Wright
    A fleeting excitement unbound by mere mortality...

    As she spoke, he noticed the faint glow of her eyes as she answered him, the ever-so-slight rise of her shoulders before she bounded away. He watched her go, moving at a more easy pace. Once a couple of steps in front of her, he was now several behind. He watched the back of her head as he stepped through the doors, instantly checking each side of the door to ensure there wasn't anyone there. When he had satisfied himself, he continued forward to memorize the receptionist's face.


    As he came to the group of others, he looked around to memorize their own unique faces and energies. Their biological electricity fingerprints resonated out from them, showing him a small taste of their moods. Only now was he beginning to realize that Sabine's every changing energy wasn't just that way due to her run. Although it had calmed down, it still reflected the slight inconsistency of a candle flame. The other girl (not yet known to him as Kid) had a rather consistent energy, the energy that reminded him of a razorblade the way it seemed to analyze everything in a quick and easy way. It never yielded. The man (known to the others as Gage) had a more resourceful energy. It seemed to draw back a little before proceeding, the subtle energy of a trained shadow of the night. He was well trained- cautious. Both of them he would like to keep on his good side.


    As for the Grey Hound members, there were two. One he would have to steer clear of from the obvious bionics his own energy might interfere with. He could, of course, use that against her did he ever found her an enemy. Her energy was much like "Razorblade", as he nicknamed her until he could know her other name. The only difference was in the mild explosiveness rather than the cool and cunning blade. Like land mines, her energy seemed to hold a bit of edgy interference he knew came from her wit. The other woman-


    He stopped, eyes instantly narrowing at the sight of the lab coat and the intense feeling of regal eloquence coming from her. He knew this was likely to be a trap, hence his mask and the fact that he would introduce himself only as 'Abyss' to the Grey Hound members, but to so plainly show signs of it in a room full of people with a high likelihood of PTSD was quite a daring move on their part. Was it plain recklessness, or was it foreshadowing of their malign intent to the CATALYST survivors here today?


    To be careful, he moved toward the back of the room where he could see everyone, but close enough to Sabine that he knew he would have a likely ally if things took a turn for the worst. He was more the technical person, although he did get plenty of training in hand-to-hand combat, and wouldn't be able to beat a bunch of highly mutated people, or a scientist with sedatives.


    Oh, how glad he was to have a gun.

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    "Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to fight?"



    Gage didn't find the woman's humor amusing. "No, it because I don't like people, especially you right now. I'm not here to chit-chat Terminator, so leave me be, and ill do the same." He wanted to give the woman a look that could kill, but she had just snapped him out of the daydream he was in. He watched as a man came in, finally he wouldn't be surrounded by woman. He seemed to respect him, and kept his distance from him. Good. Maybe he would actually allow the man (Thomas) to talk to him.




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  • [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; borderwidth= 0px; font-family: bookman oldstyle; font-style: italics; font-size: 19px; margin-bottom: -60px; letter-spacing: 6px; text-align: center; color: white;][align=center][shadow=black,bottom]☆ KID CRAWFORD
    "CANDYFLOSS"
    [size=9pt]NINETEEN; ENHANCED COGNITION.[/size][/shadow]

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    Kid watched the two back and forth as they spoke, twirling her 'floss' around her forefinger before unraveling it from around her pale digit, only to repeat the process. Hearing Gage call Arie Terminator like she previously thought made her snort, and she tightened her lips to keep herself from snickering out loud. She let a short silence fall after his comment before looking down, sitting forwards in her chair with her legs crossed, toying with the twine by her bare feet. "Well this is going splendidly-- I mean you're at least making a conversation, so I can't complain there." She spoke, glancing up only slightly to look at Arie then Gage with a sheepish slime plastered on her face.




    Finally she let her attention turn towards the two newcomers that decided to join in the room. "Another wall flower?" She teased at Thomas, referring to the fact that he stuck towards the back like Gage did. She also noticed Sabine had entered too, and she was quite a chipper looking one. "Allow me to make you known, considering the others aren't too friendly. That's Arie," She pointed her thumbs at the redhead, the rest of her hands busy playing with her wire. She then turned her thumbs towards herself. "I'm Kid, and over there's Gage." She indicated the male with both her hands, palms together and all her fingers tucked inwards to her hand except her indexes and thumbs, which were then directed to the two standing beside each other. "And you two are...?" She trailed off, quirking an eyebrow. Her hair began to slowly fall back towards her forehead again.
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    you do not type here. this is just to make the effect of the side scrollie thing.
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    [align=center][sup][color=transparent]#lightsymadethis