Posts by Crimsy3366

"So that's it? Hardly 30 minutes and we're separated again?" Charlie finally spoke after his prolonged silence. His body was still tensed in the same position it had been in at the ready to back Loki up. Not that it was needed anymore. The woman they had called Morgoot was dead, he was sure of it, but he couldn't come to lower his hand.
Charlie's tone, no longer the strict demand it had been previously but instead a frightened questioning, convinced Devyn it was over. Or at least settled enough to... Reappear. She released Serena's arm and followed back to Charlie's voice, hand stretched out before her uncertainly. She gripped the back of his shirt and Charlie's head whipped around to face her.
"Is everyone okay? Is Loki okay?" She murmured, the pupils against her arctic blue irises dilated in concern.
Charlie inhaled deep and clenched his teeth, "Loki's unconscious. Anora too, but I think she just fainted. They fixed the gas leak. We're probably gonna get shoved back in those cells again." He was finally able to will his body to relax again and he narrowed his eyes, glancing pointedly between Dwyn and Dallas. "Isn't that right? We're gonna be forced apart again. Back to the same old shit."
Something in his chest ached. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to just say goodbye and go back to tests. Possibly never see any of them again. What were the chances of something like this happening? Probably close to one in a million.
Devyn's stomach immediately coiled itself into knots. Unconscious? A million questions ran through her brain like a credit reel after a movie. Far too fast to comprehend. Who was he fighting? How did it end? Would he be okay? She thought back to the place she heard the guards' voices come from and with her usual pinpoint aim, her eyes landed on Dallas. She didn't look angry per say, but rather frustrated. Forward.
"So? You mentioned MedBay. Are you just gonna keep talking about it or are you planning on actually getting them down here sometime soon?" She couldn't tell what condition Loki was in, but the idea of him being hurt badly enough to lose consciousness made her heart dominate her head. "Or maybe you sadists are just here to watch people suffer."
Charlie's arms folded over his chest, almost puffing up behind Devyn. She had a point. The guards were stalling. They were being too casual about this.

Devyn could hear the shifting of Loki's body being lifted from the ground and she instinctively reached out towards him. He needed to get help, she knew that, but she wasn't done. She wasn't ready.
"Firey temper." She repeated, softer. She had always prided herself on keeping a cool head, but surely this could be considered an acception? There was almost a look of defeat about her as she pulled her hand back. "Just for you. All the temper is special made for you."
The blind woman let her arms slide back around her midsection. Those guards sounded almost exactly the same- the most namely of differences lying in their tone. The one she had met first, Dwyn, was harsher. Ruder. Her beef was with him.
Her words were directed to Dallas now, "thank you. You're-" Words caught in her throat. This was difficult to say, all things considered. "You're doing your best. I'm sorry for snapping just... Please make sure he's okay. He's... He's a good man."
Charlie turned quickly. He could see staff members beginning to make their way into the room and he needed to say his goodbyes. He rejoined their previously formed circle, looking those who remained over a few times. Belinda, La Seine, and Serena. His eyes met Belinda's first.
"Keep hanging in there. We'll get out of here soon. Stay safe. Do what they say and things get easier." His eyes drifted to La Seine immediately after and he crouched down and pulled her into his arms. "I love you. I love you so much and Im sorry that I didn't get to tell you before. You're gonna be okay, alright sweetie? Be good."

Devyn allowed a sigh to slip over her lips and she turned to start back to their group when a hand wrapped around her wrist, yanking her along in the opposite direction. She felt like a ragdoll, fighting helplessly against the much larger person.
"Wait, but I- I didn't get to..." The dark haired girl pulled towards her group, grunting in pain as the grip on her wrist tightened. "I didn't get to say goodbye!"
"Honey, you've had more than enough time to do that. Come on, move." A booming male voice deamnded over her and another hand grabbed her free arm, twisting both of her wrists behind her back and forcing her on out of the room.
Charlie was oblivious to Devyn's struggle with the guard a ways away. Instead, he buried his face into La Seine's hair, rubbing her back gently. "I know, mon amour. I don't want to either, but we have to." He pulled back only a bit to look over her face, turquise eyes scanning her slowly. Committing her to memory better than he ever had before. He didn't want to forget a single inch of her. "Atlas is gonna find us." The words left his mouth without permission. To be honest, he didn't know where they'd come from. This whole time he'd been insisting to himself 'the others will find us. the others will find us.' but never had to put it on Atlas' head. He hadn't put a name to their saviors until now. Maybe because he knew she was restless. He knew she wouldn't be able to sit idly by. "It might take a while. You might be alone a lot, but just know that any day she'll come busting in here to get us." A smile tugged his lips up, "You know how she is, yeah? You know she'll come running in here, guns a blazing."
As he moved to caress her cheek, a rough hand grabbed his shoulder, severing the connection between he and La Seine. A guard, much more muscular than he, began to force him away. Charlie angled his head to look at La Seine over his shoulder. He couldn't look scared. He had to show her it was okay. He smiled. Against every muscle in his face, he made himself smile.
"I love you." He repeated once more before finally submitting completely to the man pushing him along. Back to that damn cell. Back to those blindingly white walls.

I'M JOINING THE NEW CHARACTER PARTY TOO BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

FULL NAME ★ Aaron Peterson
NATIONALITY ★ American
ACCENT ★ American (Voice bit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H98Q-vGhhas warning for swearing)
SEX ★ Male
GENDER ★ Male
HOUSEHOLD RANK ★ Member
POWER ★ Emotional foresight. He looks right through any walls people might have built around themselves and instead can see what they truly feel. This also applies to someone's intentions- often people with bad intentions appear to have malcious expressions though his eyes even if they aren't even aware of their own intentions.

FACECLAIM ★ Not a clue
AGE ★ 17
HEIGHT ★ 6'6''
WEIGHT ★ 198lbs
BODY ★ On the muscular side. He's a pretty big guy.
SKIN ★ A warm russet-y brown color. Fairly smooth with a few moles or freckles scattered around.
HAIR ★ Thick, black.
--- Feels like: Coarse and soft.
SCENT ★ Whatever soap/laundry detergent he's been using.
SCARS/BODILY MODIFICATIONS ★ None.

POSITIVE TRAITS ★ Gentle giant type: He's very chivalrous and polite, the type of person who could never hurt a fly. Because of his ability, he is sensitive to other people's emotions, so he has a general tendency to hold back any sort of brash or hostile attitude.
Lover boy: He has this undying faith in humanity that makes him love even the nastiest of people. He thinks that there is a way to descalate any situation with kind, well picked words rather than action or fighting.
NEUTRAL TRAITS ★ Bashful/modest: While he loves meeting new people and all, he gets overwhelmed easily and thus grows awkward. He also cannot take a compliment or praise for the life of him. His face lights up like a freshly stoked fire and he turns into a blubbering mess.
NEGATIVE TRAITS ★ Emotionally guillible: He is often subject to manipulation, despite being able to see right through people. It happens often enough that one would think he could just learn not to trust so whole heartedly, but he always does.
Brash: Diving head first into situations seems to be his forte. He doesn't give much thought to a lot of what he does, not to say that he's quick to get into fights or arguments, quite the opposite actually. The brashness comes typically with helping other people or putting himself on the line. He doesn't really think of consequences for himself.

HISTORY ★ He had always had his powers, but was very quiet about them. He saw no reason to talk about it- having been seeing people the way he did his whole life, there wasn't any real problem. It wasn't until his mother got pregnant with his youngest sister, Alexandra, that he started to question what he was seeing. He saw his mother as a constant mess when her friends would come over and proclaim that she was "absolutely glowing!". To him, her hair was always toussled, she looked tired, but not in a sleepless way, in a worn way, bite marks covered her neck. At this time, Aaron was about 13 and attended a public school where he picked up a lot about sex ed from the riley boys in his classes. He pieced it together himself that his mother was cheating on his father and openly accused her of such at the dinner table. When she asked him why he would say such a thing, he pointed out the way that she looked... To him. He was the only one who saw her that way. Every other person saw her hair neatly groomed, skin clear, and eyes bright as ever. That's when his parents realized that there may have been something wrong with him. They assumed it was scizophrenia and sent him to a therapist.
His therapist had been a kind woman and he didn't much mind speaking with her, but even still, he knew that she couldn't help him. Despite this, he explained everything to her and she put him on stabilizers that did nothing but make him sick to his stomach. The lack of results made his parents furious and eventually, they seeked out other options. No one they found could help, so finally, when Aaron was 15, they sent him to an orphanage, unable to deal with his painfully accurate accusations. While he was there he met another girl, Allison, who was like him. She had the ability to see other people's abilities. They became friends and it was a while before she even told him that what he had was a gift. When she finally did, though, she spoke of a place- a sanctuary in Oregon- where they could go some day to be with people like them. They ran away a year later, slowly working their way from Maine to Oregon in search of this sanctuary. About half way there, though, Allison fell ill. They hadn't had sufficient shelter or food. She passed away in her sleep from a sickness neither of them had been able to pinpoint. To this day, Aaron still pushes on to find his new home.

SEXUALITY ★ Questioning
LOVE INTEREST ★ Open for development
CRUSH ★ Open for development
ANY PAST RELATIONSHIPS ★ He finds it difficult to get emotionally involved with people because he is an indecisive boy.
ROMANTIC TURN ONS ★ A sense of humor, a desire to be the best version of themselves they can be, he's a sucker for light eyes, generally good people.
ROMANTIC TURN OFFS ★ Violent, pessimistic, uncreative, unexcepting of change/adventure

FAMILY ★ Mother, father, three younger sisters- Alexandra, Talia, and Maxine
FRIENDS ★ TBD
ENEMIES ★ None- willing to develop, but it's unlikely that he would have any.

WEST OR EAST WING ★ West
ROOM NUMBER ★ Do... Do we even keep track of this anymore?

(all below optional)
HOBBIES ★ He's a bit of an artist, developped mostly to better show other people what he sees in them, but sometimes he does it just for pleasure. He would probably spend a lot of time hiking or working out at the gym if he wasn't... On a journey across the country right now.
LIKES ★ Breakfast foods, exercise, fresh air, most genres of music.
DISLIKES ★ The feeling of crushed velvet, extremely hot or extremely cold weather.

HOT OR COLD ★ Warm
RAIN ORT SHINE ★ shine
OPTIMIST OR PESSIMENT ★ optimist
BRAIN OR BRAWN ★ brain
STRONG AND STEADY OR WILD AND SPONTANEOUS ★ strong and steady
LAZY DAY OR PRODUCTIVE ★ productive
COUCH POTATO OR ATHLETE ★ athlete
SONG OR DANCE ★ song
BLIND OR DEAF ★ deaf
SWEET OR SALTY ★ sweet
RED OR BLUE ★ blue
RATIONAL OR IDEALIST ★ idealist

(//I'm... I'm putting this in a spoiler because it's... Very long. I just needed to get it out of the way. No joke. It's over 1000 words. I'M SO SORRY//)

The two girls hit the ground, Carmen first to cushion the fall, then Devyn atop her. Devyn's slender back fit into the Latina's chest in quite possibly the best way for both of their sake- for Devyn the cushion Carmen made of her body and the previously absorbed Kinetic energy meant that her wings and spine got to stay in one piece and for Carmen it meant that the worst of her damage was getting the breath knocked out of her and a sour attitude she covered up with sympathetic concern.
"Are you alright?" Carmen wheezed as Devyn rolled off of her, turning over face down on the snowy ground below.
"I'm... Yeah, I'm fine, are... Are you okay? How did you- I mean- That was-" Devyn spoke in rapid fire sequence, unable to produce much else besides stuttering nonsense.
"Don't short circuit on me, doll face." Carmen's tone was bland despite her joke and for once, Devyn genuinely couldn't call it sarcasm for sure. She was always so keen on picking up every little fluctuation in tonality, but the woman before her was making that difficult. "What went wrong up there? Aren't people your age supposed to be... I don't know, at least semi experienced with their abilities?"
Devyn couldn't help the flush in her face at that. "I uh. I haven't ever really needed my ability all that much. I haven't practiced it often enough to even know what went wrong. It's a miracle I stayed up that long." The blind teen released a wry laugh.
"No such thing as a miracle. What people do, we do for ourselves with our own skills. Taking the credit for something good that you made happen and handing it over to some outside magical force is a shitty cop out if you ask me." Carmen's voice was similar to Atlas in that it was rough, rasped, mature. The biggest difference was that Atlas' was lower, a marching cadence something like war drums whereas this girl before her was more medium pitched, an almost boyish sound.
Devyn could hear the crunch of snow, presumably the other girl standing and there was a long lapse of silence between them. Unbeknownst to her, Carmen stood over her, one sun-kissed hand outstretched for Devyn to take. Carmen watched curiously as Devyn pulled herself up, unable to stop the bit of frustration that boiled in the pit of her stomach. Did this girl with the wings even realize how rare it was for her to make an attempt to be civil? She could have let her fall, she could have just kept to herself.
"Well, I guess this is where I say thank you. I really appreciate it." Devyn sheepishly brushed a few wild strands of black away from her face and back neatly behind her ear. That's when Carmen noticed the unfocused haze to the other girl's eyes and to test her theory, she waved her hand a few times a couple of inches away from Devyn's face. No reaction.
"I'm sorry, can you see me?"
An amused grin blossomed over Devyn's lips and she shook her head. "Not even a little."
That smile was contagious. Carmen could feel the left corner of her mouth pulling up against her will and she shook her head. "Ah. So that's what went wrong up there."

"Hey, you two aren't done with your tests, go back to your stations!" A rough voice barked not too far away. Carmen watched as a female gaurd toted her way over andnin response, she tossed her arms into the air as a fake surrender.
"Quit making mountains out of mole hills, sugar tits, we were just on our way back." The thick Boston accent chided her response and the guard flushed red in anger.
"What did you just call me, subject?" She hissed. Devyn bit back her laugher, instead chewing on her bottom lip that threatened to form into a smile.
"Don't worry your pretty little face about it, mama." Carmen waved the guard off as she turned back to Devyn. "My name is Carmen. Ahh... Number... I think my number's like... X2-something or other."
"Devyn. My name is Devyn, number R3-630."
"Devyn. I'll be in touch."
That was the last thing Carmen managed to get out before her arms were taken roughly in the grasp of a newly arrived male guard and she was guided back to the circle of vehicles. The female guard that Carmen had riled up grabbed Devyn by the back of her shirt and brought her in the opposite direction towards Dr. Strauss, who hadn't moved from his place, jotting noted rapidly with a noisy ballpoint pen.
"You have done well today. We will work on your landing more in the future, I don't want to risk anything more today." Dr. Strauss told her plainly and he placed a guiding hand on her shoulder, beginning to walk her back towards the research facility. "Those blood tests should finally be back in a few hours, so hopefully I'll be able to to better understand where these came from." She jumped at the feeling of his fingers on her wings, but nonetheless continued into the warmth of the building. She hadn't realized how warm it truly was inside until she had spent that hour put in the snow. She always felt like it was freezing inside.
"Can I go back to my cell now?" Her eyes landed pointedly on him as they ventured into the labrynth-like halls and he nodded before realizing the problem with that.
"That's exactly where we're headed."

I... I love her.
She is so good.

(//I'm sorry, I hate these weird posts where you just rp with yourself and don't push the plot forward BUT I GOTTA SET STUFF UP FOR THE FUTURE SO BEAR WITH ME I APOLOGIZE//)

The cot creaked beneath Ellie's weight as she pulled herself up. Atlas and Spokely had been gone for a decent chunk of time and she was growing bored picking the chipped paint off of her fingernails. Her eyes scanned the bodies in the room dimly, landing lastly on Merrick's possibly sleeping form. He'd been lying there for quite some time- days really- and every time anyone tried to talk to him, he snapped. Her teeth closed in over her bottom lip as she appraoched the door.
"I'll be right outside if you need me." She called over her shoulder to no one in particular before slipping out the door. There was the same thin layer of snow on the ground as before, but unlike Lazarus sanctuary, the snow was often broken up by little clots of dirt or patches of grass. She could only imagine the land that stretched before her in the summer time- probably very little plant life with all of the vehicles trampling over it. There was a tall barbed wire fence surrounding the facility that she couldn't help but size up every time she left. Since the kidnapping, she was constantly searching for escape routes wherever she was. Here? She didn't see many.
She trapsed around to the back of the building, ready to plop herself back onto the ground in the little snowless patch she had formed earlier, but something stopped her. The glint of that barbed wire caught her eye and she found herself wandering towards it. The walk was long- the landscape here seemed to go on forever, but she arrived eventually. Everything beyond them was just forest and mountain. And she wanted to go to it.
Ellie cast a quick glance over her shoulder towards the building, as if checking to be sure no one was watching her, then scanned the line of the fence. There was a hole at the very bottom, about the side of a small animal. Just about her size. She had to remember to tell O'Mally about it before they left- she was sure that was a major safety hazard here, but for the time being, it was her path to freedom. The metal around the hole continued to snag unforgivingly on her clothes and hair as she crawled her way through, but she had time. She was patient enough to stop and detagle herself before pushing forward again.
It took close to three minutes for her to wind up on the other side and once she was there, she fixed her hair out of her face, and immediately started forward. Ellie didn't have the slightest clue where she was going, but whatever it was, it was urging her forward persistently.

Charlie had clocked out by the time the guard had arrived at his room. He had been having more and more mentally straining days as time went by. They were trying to expand his breaking point and there was a lot of talk about him 'joining the force' as one scientist had put it. It made sense, Charlie was generally well behaved and there was no doubt that he had a powerful... Gift, if thays what one could even call it.
The sound of the door opening jolted him awake and he furiously rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"It's lights out, what's going on?" He had yet to have been picked for any of the fights, so he was ever unaware of what was to come.
"Keep your mouth shut and come with me." A muscular woman, rough looking, demanded as she grabbed his arm and yanked him off the bed.
"Can I put a shirt on? Christ." Charlie reeled back from her. She onced over his shirtless frame for a moment before Nodding her approval. He pulled the rough white fabric over his head and her hand instantly reconnected with his arm.
They exchanged no more words as they made their way through the maze of hallways and out a back door. It was freezing outside and the thin scrub style T-shirt over Charlie's body did little to protect against the elements. Still, he was glad he took the time to pull it on. The first thing he noticed was all of the guards and for a moment, he was sure he was a goner. He thought this might have been some Holocaust shit- he wasn't doing a good job, giving good results, so they were gonna put a bullet in his head and trash him into the pit, but that's when he noticed the other subjects. Some seemingly more scared than others, and the ones that weren't scared looked... Prepared. Blood thirsty.
"What is this?" The blonde man tried to find his answer again, but got no response. Instead, he was forced to his knees beside Wade who it took him a moment to recognize. He didn't say anything to the boy at his side. He simply looked him over carefully before turning his attention back to the massive hole before them.
When the guards offered up Anora to go first, his eyes went wide with realization. This was an arena. They were here to fight.

When the cold metal of the shock collar closed around his neck, Charlie noticeably jumped. Surprisongly, he had yet to meet one of these shock collars since his first interview with Dr. Strauss. Charlie couldn't tell a lie to save his life and he never fought bacm, so there was hardly any need to shock him.
Turquoise eyes watched Anora drop down into the pit, followed closely by a hulking man who looked like he could give Loki a run for his money. Key word: looked. For all he knew, the guy's power could be something much less intimidating than he- something like Ellie's ability to talk to animals. At least Anora had thunder, hail, acid rain, and the works. Still, if this guy got close enough to her, not even considering his power, Anora's speed or her ability to put some random guard in an arm bar would be out the window.
Charlie stood slowly as he noticed other returning members doing so, and he leaned over the lip of the ridge. It didn't matter what happened down there, Anora was going to come out on top. If not on her own, Charlie wouldn't stop himself from intervening should this get out of hand. Would it get him beaten? Probably. Would he lose privileges? Absolutely. Did he give a shit? Not at all. Anora was family. Anora was younger than him and, thus, became his responsibility in his mind. He wasn't about to let these assholes get in the way of keeping his people safe.
He carefully tried to meet Anora's eye when the match began, possibly to pass some reassurance. He wanted her to know he had her back, regardless of the outcome here. He took little solace in killing being against the rules- that meant they would all come out of this at least kind of okay, but that would make his own fight more difficult. There was nothing but death to come from his own ability. He would have to get creative.

Ellie's legs carried her down a somewhat steep snowy slope towards a feeling she didn't recognize. Something was calling her out there. The trees were bare, but plentiful still and before long, she had completely lost sight of the base over her shoulder. It was just her and the seemingly growing colder forest.

She wasn't an outdoorsy person, that's for sure. Despite her ability and knowing that she could probably get out of being bitten or attacked by anything, the forest was still a tad bit frightening to her. It was dirty, unknown, often times dark. Even still, there she was, venturing out as though it was a regular occasion for her.


It was a while before she arrived at a small clearing- probably only big enough in circumference to keep five or six people fully. This felt like her stopping point.


"Okay..." She exhaled heavily, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. She had left Poppy back on her bunk, Deciding to let him rest rather than hauling him out here. "Why am I here?"


Deep brown irises squinted through the brush and with another sigh, she plopped down onto her butt, leaning her back against a tree. She wanted to find something useful out of her ability. Something that could help them get the others back. Right now, talking about how birds feel about birdhouses isn't a very helpful thing to claim as her "superpower" as interesting as some people may find it.


Speak of the devil, a the flutter of a finch overhead caught her ear and Ellie turned her gaze to him.

Seed. Seed. Seed? Not seed. Not seed.

It shook it's feathers furiously.


"Hey." Ellie called up to him, watching the small mass of brown feathers jump a bit in surprise. "Hey buddy. C'mere." She whistled a small tune at him for effect and in seconds, he was placed delicately in front of her.


Person? Person. Person need others. Person want more.


Ellie's eyebrows knit together in question. "Want more what? I don't need anything, just wanted to chat." She smiled, one finger stretching out to scratch at the feathered junction of the finch's neck and wing.


More bird. Many more bird. They here soon. No worry.


"I... I don't need anymore birds. I'm okay." Ellie shook her head, but the sound of wings flapping not far off still grew closer. The finch didn't respond, instead, its head turned skyward expectantly and one by one, birds began to land, filling the ground and trees of the clearing with more small fuzzy bodies than Ellie was willing to try to count. "Why.... Why are all of you here? I said I don't need help."


Not what mind say. Mind say help. Mind scared.


A baffled look crossed Ellie's face. Yes, of course she's been worried lately, but she didn't realize that she was sending out signals. She didn't realize she even could send out signals like that. How long had she been able to do this? "Are you saying that I summoned you all?"


Yes. You call earlier. We wait somewhere else for you to come. You come. Here we are.

A strange surge of excitement shot through Ellie as it clicked that she had finally developped something out of her ability... even if it was unintentional. She couldn't help but wonder how far she could push this. "I don't need you all right this second, but... But I might soon." A grin painted her lips and as quickly as they had come, the birds dispersed. leaving her seated in that clearing alone- a manic smile on her face.

(//Sorry it's spaced all strange, I typed it in my phone notepad and just copied and pasted//)

The very same woman who had hauled Charlie from his cell stepped up. She was all bulky muscle, hard edges, tan skin, and a light brown mane she had once kept pulled tight in a bun atop her head, but once outside, she had let it all down. The guard grabbed Charlie by the back of his shirt and pushed him towards the ring. His heart practically stopped.
"I think I got a pretty fun one." She called out with a confident air. "Pick carefully."
Charlie's mind and body were numb as he dropped down the 10 feet into to the Thunder Dome. He couldn't kill. If he couldn't kill, he couldn't do this. His power was for killing. The only thing that had ever come of it was destruction and death and everything horrible. He couldn't do this. He couldn't even hear who they selected next from his position standing stiff on one side of the arena. It wasn't until the stocky man dropped in after him that some of the haze in his mind lifted.
The man before him was sturdy built and tall as all Hell. There was an oddly casual demeanor about him, arms folded over his chest, stray black strands of hair falling into his line of sight and he didn't move to push them aside. He just watched Charlie. Predatory. Something wild was tucked away behind his calm expression.
Tears stung his eyes and he could only barely bite them back as his panicked breathing picked up. This guy was gonna play dirty. This guy was going to wreck him. There was no getting around it. His hands found his own hair, fingers tangling in and tugging hard at the slowly lengthening blonde locks. He hadn't had a haircut since he got there and the length of his hair was the one thing he took minimal solace in- messing it up, tugging on it, it was a distraction. But now? Now, it was a habit derived from terror, like he was trying to remember how his own hair felt before, what? Before he lost an arm in here? Bled out and died?
His mind buzzed, ears tuned past the excited hoots, the hollers proclaiming "he's gonna cry!", the taunts telling him to "be a man" listening only for the call of the proctor to begin.

At the sign from their proctor, the man before him began convulsing. It was like something from a movie and Charlie couldn't help but shrink back into himself when the already much larger man grew. His body shifted, the bones and cartilage of his face were especially noticeable with loud cracks and pops. The mask of his face elongated just slightly and his teeth grew too large for his mouth, peeking out from the bottom of his upper lip. All of the muscles and veins in his body thickened and expanded as the once neatly trimmed nails on his fingers shifted into dagger shapes.
A werewolf. They expected him to fight, essentially, a fucking werewolf.
A low growl came from the man gone beast before him and it lunged for him pinning him up against the dirt wall behind him. Charlie locked his arms between them, eyes wide in fear as those monstrous teeth gnashed centimeters away from his face. He couldn't help but think back to Rylan. A rage and horror cocktail brewed in his lungs, filling them and making it harder to breathe. Rylan. Rylan died scared. Rylan died in pain. He died horribly. He was ripped to shreds. And that was never going to happen to anyone Charlie knew ever again. Including himself.
Action took over his mind and all inhibitions flew out the window. Charlie allowed his legs to go completely limp and his sudden weight slipped out from the grasp of the man above him. He then slid beneath the hulking mass of nails and teeth, escaping from between his legs.
The deformed wolfish face whirled around to look furiously at Charlie who was already bolting to the opposite side of the stadium. A good thing about the beast being so large was that he was slowed quite a bit, giving Charlie a bit of leeway to think, but the boo's and shouts of "you pussy!" from above him didn't help his focus at all.
He trashed the idea of thinking things out again and simply let adrenaline and instinct take over. he didn't even register his own hands reaching behind him and pulling a bit clot of half frozen dirt from the side of the arena. As his opponent charged towards him, Charlie hurled the dirt towards him, aiming not for his head, but for the area just to the left of it. While it was still in the air, Charlie shifted quickly, right arm extended with his palm spread open. He closed his hand quickly and the chunk he had thrown exploded, throwing the other man off of his track as he stumbled to the side to avoid the hard flying bits of sediment.
"Dirt? That's what you've got?" The distorted voice called through condescending chortles across the arena.
Charlie threw another one and it was quickly caught in the paw-like grasp of the other man. When it burst, just like the last one, he reeled back in anger. And another one was already bursting to the left of him. Charlie was making quick work of them, prying then from the walls and getting them a safe distance away from himself before they exploded. His hands were caked in dirt and blood from where his nails kept chipping as he ripped into, practically, ice.
Enough was enough for Charlie's opponent. Despite being pelted with shards of rock and ice, he ran forward, seemingly no longer impacted by Charlie's distractions. When he was within a few feet of the French man, he lunged forward and knocked Charlie off balance. Massive teeth enclosed on the nearest thing to him- Charlie's right arm- and chomped down. A combination of agony-filled shrieks and sick crunches filled the air. Charlie couldn't even cry. There was only hot pain that singed the circuits of his nerve endings.
Charlie, now laying flat on the ground, lifted his left leg and began to hammer his foot down repeatedly onto the beast's skull, but nothing would make him release. Pained, panicked sobs raked his chest as tears finally found a way to flow. Ungodly sounds came from his ribcage in his struggle. He couldn't breathe, his vision was blurry with tears, but still, he tried to calm himself. This would only work if he was calm and focused hard enough. Short, clipped breaths left his mouth and finally, he clenched his left fist from somewhere beneath his opponent and there was a loud sound, like a firework mixed with a boulder being dropped in water and immediately, the wolfish man roared in pain, rolling off of Charlie.
Charlie staggered up onto his feet, surveying his own handiwork with a sick feeling brewing within him. Where there was once a leg on the other man, it was just a bloody stump that stopped just above where his knee would be. And the missing portion of the leg? It was a bloody mess scattered about the area.
"You son of a bitch!" The pained hiss came from the writing man on the ground and Charlie was suddenly aware of a searing pain on his left leg. Those dagger-like claws had sunken through the muscle of his calf and held on tight for the ride.
A slew of French and curses slid over Charlie's lips as he tried to pull back, worsening the pain only more. He couldn't do this. He couldn't sit in this ring for a moment longer. The deep turquoise of his eyes were still filled with tears when he looked at the mutilated, slowly bleeding out man below him.
"I'm sorry." His whispered, left arm moving to focus his energy at the target area. "I'm so, so sorry." His voice was practically a sob as he clenched his fist and blood, brain matter, and the works splattered across the ground and up onto his once clean white uniform.
He killed a man.
He broke the rules.
And he wasn't ready for the consequences.

Charlie could only lay on the ground, limp, helpless, dead looking as the blue in his face slowly faded. He had been sure when Dwyn lifted him that he was gonna be done for, but he was dropped again- albeit wrapped in barbed wire that bit into his skin- both injured and non- with the ferociousness of hundreds of snake fangs. His crippled arm was numb and bleeding at an alarming rate. He was sure the nerve endings had been severed and even more alarming than the blood loss, he couldn't move it. His shoulder would jerk as he tried, but the limb itself wouldn't budge from laying limply beside him.
he couldn't move very much, not without the barbs of the fencing stocking him deeper and tearing harsher, but he could still see the slow assembly of the Brass Bull. He didn't know what it was or what it was used for, but something told him it was meant for him to go inside.
And he didn't see very many holes for air. None at all, actually.
His lungs were still recovering from the abuse of hanging suspended in the air and they felt like they were going to explode.
"Please." He finally gagged out around his own gasping breaths and pooling blood and saliva. "I- I didn't my mean to." His voice was hoarse and he could slowly feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He needed help. He needed to be patched up. He was going to bleed out if he didn't, but that seemed to be the least of the guards' worries. They were much more interested in his torment. Still, his slowly fading eyes watched Dallas work. Or was it Dwyn? His vision was so hazed he couldn't tell.

Charlie was able to relax ever so slightly knowing there was no longer the sharp digging at his flesh of the barbed wire. As the guard was speaking to him, assuring him it had to be done, expressing his hesitance to go through with it, Charlie couldn't help but be a little thankful. He wasn't doing this in good conscience. He knew it was wrong. And as fucked up as it would be of he could, Charlie wanted to thank him- for what, he didn't know. For not being a complete and utter brute? For giving him someone to trust just a little more than the others? Sure, he was still going through with it, but maybe he'd remember this. Maybe he would keep in mind what happened on this night the next time he crossed paths with Charlie in a different situation. A situation with less peer pressure. Maybe if Charlie didn't make it tonight, Dallas would pay it forward to one of his housemates in his regret. That's the least Charlie could ever want of him.
The bull closed in around him and at first, it wasn't so bad. He noted the lack of space for fresh air and was careful with his breathing. A long, deep breath that inflated his diaphragm, he held it for as long as he could, then released it in small bursts, pushing the air hard between tightly clasped lips that curled inwards to be sure that he didn't exhale hot. The colder the air he put out, the thinner the air would be and the easier it would be to remain conscious. That was one problem solved for at least a few minutes until it would become inevitable for the air to remain cold and thin. His attention was turned to his injuries.
His leg stung something fierce, but it wasn't nearly as concerning as his arm. The bones felt shattered within it. It was anything but a clean break and he could hear the heavy drips of blood echoing around his chamber. Within a minute, it pooled in the belly of the bull and began to drizzle out the air hole. Fantastic.
The cheers and claps from the crowd were muffled, but he could make out only vague sounds, words here and there. One thing that caught his attention was "I've been dying to see this little lad in the ring." Little lad. Little lad. It echoed in Charlie's warping and hazy mind. Please let little lad be someone else. Be had seen Sun get toted in and thrown to the ground and he seemed to be one of the smallest people there, but please. He just needed it to not be Sun.
The air around him was growing heavy and wet, despite his efforts, putting pressure on his head and lungs as he struggled for air. How long was he to be in there? Would they let him out before all of this was over? He wouldn't make it the night. Maybe he wouldn't suffocate, but he would bleed out at this rate. The pain was unbearable. The tightness in his chest was unbearable.
Charlie's eyes fell closed and he tried to imagine himself home. The only scene from home that he could get to play was one of those he least wanted- Atlas. Atlas finding her way into his room with a half-downed bottle of red wine in her hand. Her putting that wine down. Her placing herself so gently on the bed. Those tattoos he hadn't known about until much later. The shade of green her eyes turned when the light that wrestled to get through his drapes caught them dimly. Her weight on his lap. The lips, the hair, the skin, everything. He didn't want to be in that memory, but there he was. Reliving only those good parts. It went through the full cycle of that conversation and what followed it, stopping just before the pain. Stopping just before it got bad and then, like an old video tape, it rewinded. His one distraction. The one thing to take him away from the desperation in his chest.

Air. Air was the first thing that registered in Charlie's mind when the bull opened up. He didn't consider consequences anymore. He didn't care that this could have meant he was up for some side show entertainment. No, he was just happy to fill his lungs again. Dallas gripping him and bringing him back into the building wasn't even on his mind, he was just far too busy hacking, wheezing, and gasping like a fish out of water.
As his head cleared just enough to let his other injuries shine, Charlie became suddenly aware of Dallas. His once limp head lifted wearily to look the guard over. This was the nice one. The big one was the nice one, at least in his book. Through all of the pain, the look reflecting in his eyes was all thanks, all appreciation, as though he'd forgotten the other man's previous involvement. At the moment he was his lifeline, nothing more, nothing less.
By the time they got to the MedBay, he was struggling to keep his eyes open and head up. He looked as though he were wrestling with Thanatos himself for his very life. The cold metal of the operation table hit his skin and his eyes finally gave up, closing in a grimace on his face.
"My- my arm. Please. Please." His voice was hardly intelligible. He didn't care about his leg, it would be fine, he could at least still feel the injury there. His arm? It was numb, motionless, flopped at his side uselessly. He couldn't lose it. He couldn't deal with that.

Since we all keep making characters, I figured I'd leave a blank version of the form here so we don't have to get rid of all of the fancypost every time we want to use it:

I'm gonna be making... Yet another character sometime soon. I gotta wait for the muse to do it cause I know EXACTLY WHAT I WANT...
I just don't wanna type it all out.

Burning. Cauterize. Capillaries. Majority of Dr. Chakwas' words meant nothing to Charlie. Mostly because of the pain and panic, but partly because he was losing his once firm grasp on his own mind. Mentally, he rocked back and forth on the threshold that segregated French and English and it was growing progressively more difficult to process what was going on. The woman over him looked like a team of quadruplets in his squinted, hazey vision.
"That's- Yeah." He slurred, though it mostly only sounded like a throaty groan. "Je ... je ne peux pas vraiment le sentir." It wasn't until the words were long gone that he realized that English had alluded his mind and he did his best to internalize the frustration. "Putain d'anglais..." He shook his head, allowing it to knock back against the metal observation table.
He didn't need to talk anyways, she was gonna do it even if he were to say "no wait!". The woman hovering over him was a doctor, her job was to do her best until he was better or until he died. He wasn't about to stop her from saving his ass, regardless of how many words she threw out that went right over his head. As languages battled for dominance over his thoughts, he braced for more pain. Something told him that much of his night would be filled with that bracing until he passed out. Maybe he would slip out of it soon enough to not have to stick it through all of this, but for the time being, he was glad he could at least see who was dealing with him... Granted she was blurry and duplicated, but he got the idea. Older woman. She looked like she had experience, which was vastly reassuring, and she looked genuinely focused on fixing him up. Up to this point, everyone he'd met seemed like they were either just going through the motions of their job or like they were only in it for the fun- the poking, prodding, tormenting.
Charlie couldn't help but breifly wonder how he much have appeared to her, injuries aside. It was easy to profile her- older female doctor only had so many associations for personality types in his mind. However, an emotional and physical mess of a twenty-two year old French man? He could imagine that it would be interesting if there wasn't a much bigger distraction at hand.

(//Yeah I guess I may as well place a guide here too? Usually I'm just like "GOOD LUCK SUCKERS" But this is a much nicer thing to do, lmao:
"I... I can't really feel it."
"Fucking English..."//)

Had she... Had she understood him? He did say that part in French, right? Maybe she spoke it, it wouldn't be the most bizarre thing, but just... Unusual. Ever so slightly unusual. With that, she could have easily spoken Italian or Spanish and just understood what he was saying. the languages were fairly similar, he remembered his mother telling him, and she responded in English afterall. That was something he always found intriguing though, this idea of the languages being close enough to hold up vague conversations in each respective language. Spanish was generally more widely spoken than French in the United States, so he concluded that she probably got her knowledge from there.
Charlie could only slightly feel the burning on his open wound. The most reaction that came from him towards it was an uncomfortable grimace. The pain was dull from what he could only assume was servere damage to his nerved. He hadn't dared to look down at his arm and when she pressed the heated metal over it, he certainly didn't want to. He knew he would get phantom pains if he did. It would be like watching yourself get a shot. You only feel a little pinch, but it's so much worse watching a 4 inch needle weasle its way into your arm.
Charlie's heart was pounding in his ears and he knew it had to be working two-forty with that adrenaline that hadn't stopped coursing though his blood stream since the moment he was forced to take a knee in front of the Thunder Dome. He was just happy it was still trying to keep him going. It could have puttered out. Truth be told, it probably would have if he wasn't so damn terrified of what was waiting for him around every corner the future held. He was on a permanent edge now.
The feeling of reassurance he had gotten from the doctor faltered when she voiced her lacking experience with surgery, but still, he kept it off his face. This was all he had. It was just her. She was his lifeline and no matter how poorly she might end up butchering him up, she would be doing more than expected. He could only be greatful.
Her footsteps were retreating and his eyes found the will to pull back his heavy eyelids to squint up at Dallas. The lights overhead were blinding, creating a halo over the dark haired man, and while Charlie was greatful, he knew better than to deem him an angel. He had saved him when he could have easily left him in that bull to bleed out, sure, but he had also put him in that pull, he also didn't stick up for what was right. Instead, he let himself become a bystander. And bystanders were no better than the perpetrator. Charlie's eyebrows knit in some scrambled mess of pain, frustration, and fear as his eyes slid closed again.
"Thank you." The wounds were closed and it was already doing a lot for his clarity, though he knew he wouldn't be awake for much longer. The Doctor would surely knock him out for whatever was to come next, but while he was still here... "You... You didn't have to do what you did." The blonde man was always a strong believer in the notion that negativity would get you nowhere and, while he had his breakdowns just as everyone does, he tends to make it a point to look for reasons to thank rather than reasons to mourn or be angry or apologize, unless, of course, the later was necessary. His breathing was still labored and uneven as he waited to be put under. Unfortunately, that was still vastly out of his control.