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Hazel

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a character in “Irregular”, as played by Lorawr

Description

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Full Name

Hazel

Age
19

Gender
Female

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Role
'The Taken One'

Face Claim
Lily Collins








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Appearance
Hazel is decidedly a very normal looking girl. Kept on the inside, she's been more or less kept away from the influences of make up and fashion. She's got average brown hair, routinely shorn to a certain length, and warm brown eyes with just a hint of green. She is exactly 5'5 and a half, and is a healthy body weight. She has been reasonably active, so is perhaps as fit as can be expected for a normal 19 year old girl. Her frame is decidedly feminine, but toned and understated, however she could still be labelled at the least as 'pretty'. Though it is not enough to be profusely noticeable, she is often reminded to correct her posture. A slight slouch means that she often closes over herself, hiding her slightly from vision.

Personality
Easily seen as childish due to the coddling of her captivity, Hazel has always surrounded herself by books and knowledge as a distraction from the walls that surround her in some hope of catching a slight glimpse of the outside world in written form. Because of this coddling, she has always been well taken care of and so can be seen as childish when she is confused. However, she is very intelligent, and eager for more knowledge, and revels in a challenge. Her living situation has not been kind for her personal emotional development, though, and so she can come across often as just 'nice' or 'sweet'. She has big dreams and even bigger expectations of herself, and gives in to frustration easily when confronted with her own failures. She is, however, brave and fearless. She can be quite argumentative, and could potentially be quite passionate and outspoken, given half the chance to be so. This is all due, of course, to her naivetÊ. She has no real life experience, meaning that she can also be more than a little unpredictable as she tries to work things out.




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ImageAbilities
The benefit of being kept in captivity is that Hazel has had expert help in developing her powers to the extent that they are rather powerful. She has the ability, first and foremost, to manipulate the air. She can turn it into a solid force to move things around her, and act as a shield on demand. She can control it well, though not for long periods of time. While she only really has to use it for short periods of time, using it for longer results in spontaneous fires in her immediate surroundings which she struggles to control and are notoriously difficult to put out.

Talents
Music - Lots of spare time means that Hazel is proficient in more than one instrument
Studies - A strict education has meant that Hazel is very intelligent in many ways, from mathematics to literature to geography
Athletic - Hazel has enjoyed some sports in the past, in what little space she has. She therefore has a good amount of stamina


Weaknesses
Common sense - For want of a better term, Hazel has very few social skills. She is very unsure of how to act around people who she hasn't known her entire life, and therefore finds it easy to accidentally offend them
Self control - Though Hazel's powers are strong, they have recently been increasing in strength. She can sometimes find it difficult to control them.
Naive - She believes the best in all people, and often this leaves her disappointed or at a disadvantage


Fears
Heights - Hazel can't stand heights. They force her to freeze up, with no idea what to do. Classic 'deer in the headlights'.
Spiders - They have too many legs.




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History
There is little to say about Hazel's history as it is all recorded somewhere on a computer or in a notebook. She has no idea who her parents are, though in fact she was grown from two carefully selected specimens. But that doesn't mean she was lonely. Hazel has always been surrounded by people. Staff change constantly, and there are only a few she has known since childhood. To her, they equate extended family, however they treat her for the most part with a cool detachment. She has dreamed for a long time of escaping, or just glimpsing the outside world, however it has always been clear that it is not for her. Everything in her life has been given to her on a plate, albeit not a very glamorous one, so that she has always been comfortable, if not exactly happy.

So begins...

Hazel's Story

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#, as written by Lorawr
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Hazel lay in her bed, watching the slowly flashing red light that indicated that the camera in the top corner of her room was functioning. It was the only light in her room. Light... dark... And repeat. The repetition was something she normally found comforting, but this time, it was just frustrating. It was so predictable. Hazel huffed, and pointedly rolled over, pulling a pillow to her chest to hold and bringing her legs up. She forced her eyes closed.

The day she had just had was just as predictable as the recording light in her room. She'd been woken at eight, and dressed by half past. Breakfast had been porridge, as it always was on a Tuesday, and then at nine her classes had started. French, mathematics, geography, and English literature classes had followed before she had been allowed her lunch. The day was dull, repetitive, and she had had to spend it listening to the sound of rain outside. It fell with a million heavy thuds on the roof, a constant distraction. Just like the recorder light.

She heard the footsteps outside her room that indicated her guard's restless shuffling, and wished she had been allowed outside that afternoon, despite the rain. They'd measured her brain again, while seeing if she could catch tennis balls still in the air without her hands. When she'd set fire to three desks on the other side of the complex, she'd been sent to her room to detail on a form the reasons why she believed she'd made a mistake.

Dutifully, she'd filled it out, then spent the rest of her day in her room reading. Not that she could have left if she'd had a choice.

The book she was reading at the moment was a play set in a foreign world, called Verona. It was about a girl, a perfectly normal girl, and a boy. They had fallen in love, but their families kept them apart. It was very tragic, but the poetry in it made her laugh, and it made her sad at the same time. The story was ludicrous, and her musings on the boy had her eventually slipping into a light doze so that she didn't even notice when the red light stopped flashing.

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The security guard sighed, panning the camera from right to left. Nothing was happening. Nothing ever happened. When the door opened behind him, he didn't look up, expecting it to be one of his colleagues. It was only when nothing was said that he did- and what he saw was not what he was expecting. A bunch of people, with scarves tied around their mouths. He scrambled for his gun- but then they were right on top of him. One of them, with steely grey eyes, actually had a grip on his arm.

"Turn off the security cameras. All of them," Will instructed. The guard clearly had no kind of resistance to this, because he just turned around and started shutting off all of the cameras. "Now, when you wake up, you'll forget we were ever here." The guard just nodded. Will shut him down, removing his hand from the guard's arm as soon as his head hit the desk.

"Nice, Whiskey," somebody said, and Will just shrugged. "Right. Let's go get this girl." They strode through the building, knocking out guards as necessary. It was easy, really- they'd clearly never anticipated Irregulars. As they got to the necessary room, Will didn't even have a headache. Admittedly, he couldn't be far off- the rush of thoughts every time he bumped into anyone was draining, especially on top of him willingly using his powers.

It was almost as if he'd jinxxed it- as he told the guard to forget them and then shut him down, he could feel the beginnings of a migraine. Still, they should be able to get out nice and quickly- the guards would still be out, after all. One of the girls manipulated the lock of the door into opening, and they walked in to the girl's room.

"Oi, sweetheart, wake up," Will called. "We're your knights in shining combat boots."


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#, as written by Lorawr
What little sleep Hazel actually managed to get that night was fragile at best. She shifted uncomfortably at every sound or moment of too deep silence. Her sheets were tangled around her ankles, one pillow flung to the floor. Her dreams were watery, the colours contrasting sharply so that every time she woke the residue of the harsh hues remained painted on the inside of her eyelids. She'd lived here forever, slept in this bed for as long as she could remember. More than long enough to memorise the comforting sounds of the building, few as they were. The ocasional murmur of words outside her room, or a step on the floor. Sometimes she could hear the wind humming quietly through the vent on the wall.

The words 'Oi, sweetheart', were most definitely and emphatically not in her somewhat limited dictionary of normal sounds to hear late at night.

"W...What?" She uttered incoherently, her bed squeaking slightly as she stumbled to her feet, almost tripping over her sheets. Lips parting, her shock manifested itself in a sharp gasp. Her hands flew to her mouth, thinking instinctively... fight or flight? Who was this cocky man in her room? Not a doctor, certainly. And she was still in her nightie. Hazel folded her arms over her chest, nervously shrinking back just a little. Her voice shook only a little when she demanded answers.

"Who are you? Why are you in my room?"

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He grinned at her- then remembered that, with the scarf tied over his mouth, she couldn't see it. "The name's Whiskey. Well, the codename's Whiskey. And we're here to rescue you- like I said, your knights in shining combat boots." He gestured at the rest of his team who were standing behind him. He looked around the room, raising an eyebrow. "Now, I know this is a nice setup and all, what with the twenty-four hour surveillance and all," he said, pointing at the camera, "but we really believe you'd be better off with us. Freedom and all that. Now, I'll give you two options. You can voluntarily come with us- or I can make you come with us. But I've got a headache already, so I'd rather if you came voluntarily, because I don't want to risk passing out on you. That would be embarrassing," he said.

He knew that they probably should have been more gentle about it- but that wasn't really what they were trained for. That and none of them were really the most gentle people. This was the one time where they could actually use their powers, and they weren't going to pass up on that opportunity.

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#, as written by Lorawr
Hazel scowled at him, though she wasn't entirely sure why. His words confused her a little. Freedom? She was free here... more or less. But she'd love to go outside. That would be something else. She wasn't even sure she liked him, and if she went with him willingly, surely he'd at least have to be trustworthy.

That's when it struck her. These people couldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. They had to know that, right? What other reason would someone want to kidnap her? She was the only one of her kind, as far as she knew, and that meant that she had the power, literally and metaphorically, in this situation. Hazel tried to smother her smirk, deciding she'd go with them. At least that way she could see outside. She could always come back later, if she wanted.

"First... You can't make me do anything I don't want to do," she told him coolly, before continuing, "But I'll go with you. Just let me get some stuff together."

She turned her back on him, planning on what she was going to pack to take with her. How long would she be gone? Would she need to bring an umbrella?

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He could almost see her thinking the whole thing through. And he saw the light of realisation in her eyes. Internally, he tensed, waiting for her to use her ability on them. But instead, she spoke to them.

He laughed at her first statement. It was the definition of ironic, really- because he could. Not that he would unless he needed to, but he could. He watched as she packed her stuff, leaning against the door. "Tango's keeping watch, right?" He said to some of the others. They nodded, and he turned his attention back to the girl. She was pretty- but Will was guessing that she'd need some serious life lessons once they got her out.

"You good to go, love?" He asked.

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She wasn't really sure what she was packing. Some shirts, jeans, shoes? How long would she be gone for? What was the weather like out there? She sighed, surprised that he wasn't rushing her to pack quicker. Hazel couldn't help but dread what might happen if one of the guards of the doctors saw that not only did she have a small group of outsider strangers in her room, but that she was also packing to leave with them.

It was only once she'd packed that she realised she was still in the nightie the doctors insist she wore. It was a disgusting cream, reminding her of something that had been described in a Victorian-era novel she'd read. There was no way Hazel was going to ask this man to turn around. Instead, she pulled some leggings on underneath, then a pair of boots, and finished the bizarre look with a massive woollen jumper. Feeling confident she'd handled the situation well, she turned to look at Whiskey. The cocky way he leaned against the door made her want to scowl at him, and ignoring the part of her that said that there were many worse places he could be leaning, she nodded.

"Okay. I'm good. Let's go."

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He raised an eyebrow as she pulled clothes on over her nightie. It wasn't the most subtle thing in the world, but it would work. Not that they'd be out in public if he had his way. The plan was simply to get out as soon as possible and as easily as possible- especially now with this headache. He needed to recover for a bit.

"Good. Stick close to us, and for the love of all things holy, don't wander off," he said, turning around. He hung back, allowing the others to leave the room. He really needed to minimise the contact now, just in case he did have to use his powers- either on the girl or any of the guards.

He glanced behind him only briefly to check that she was following- and even a part of that was to ensure that there wasn't a guard following them. But they appeared to be good- the only guard in sight was currently passed out on the floor, unresponsive. "Come on, quickly now," he said to the girl. A lack of guards didn't mean that more wouldn't appear out of nowhere.

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"Right, sure, I got it," she muttered, nodding as he instructed her and suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. What else was she going to do? She shouldered her now stuffed bag, frowning at it's weight but then reassuring herself that every item in it was essential. She followed him nervously out of the door, but came to a stop when she saw the collapsed guard on the floor opposite.

"Hey!" She froze, grabbing Whiskey's forearm tight enough to pull him around to face her as she then released him and moved forward to kneel beside the guard. She looked up at him, anger making her eyes dark and narrow.

"What the hell did you do to him? Is he... If he's dead..."

Her fingers fumbled at the guard's collar. Hazel couldn't remember his name, but she knew everyone that worked in the facility by sight, and each of them was friendly to her. Her fingers shook bad enough that trying to find a pulse at his throat was almost impossible, and that only increased her panic.

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It was all going well- until she grabbed his arm. A rush of thoughts filled his head, and even though it was only for a few seconds, it was enough to worsen his headache. It now felt like a very small man was beating at the inside of his skull. "He's fine, he's just asleep. He'll wake up in like half an hour, okay?" He glanced over his shoulder. He was willing to bet that she wasn't going to listen to him either way, and they needed to get moving.

"Can we get moving, please? Don't make me make you, you've already made my headache worse," he said. It was getting to that point where he was willing to use his power on her, just to get her out. He wanted her to trust him- but he also wanted them to get out as quickly as possible. "He's not dead, okay? He's still breathing. Look his chest is moving."

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Hazel deliberated, panicking for just a few moments until his words registered. His chest was moving. She could see it. He just looked like he was sleeping. She hesitated, and then stood up, looking from the stranger, to the guard, to the door of her room. There was still time to change her mind. She mentally shook herself. There was no way that she could not go. She pulled herself to her feet, cast her room one more glance, and then nodded again.

"Okay. Alright. I'm coming..." She frowned slightly, and followed him down the corridor, sending him and the other people in his group uncertain, furtive looks. Hazel looked back often, sincerely hoping that she wasn't being stupid, and that the guard would be okay. The sight of the unconscious man had shaken her. What else would these strangers do to get her out of there?

"Where are we going?" She asked hesitantly, not wanting to anger him while she attempted to work out if she was in any danger.

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He sighed with relief when she said that she was coming. He wouldn't have to "persuade" her to come, then. His headache didn't improve anything as he lengthened his stride to catch up with the others.

"We're going to our base of sorts. We'll tell you more when we get there," he said. He wasn't giving away too much information while they were still in the building. "I'll explain everything once we get out, promise," he said.

"Whiskey!" Somebody yelled, and Will instinctively ducked, grabbing the girl's arms and pulling her down with him- despite the rush of noise inside his head. And sure enough, a fist swung through the space his head had just been in. Keeping his grip on the girl, he looked her straight in the eye and communicated telepathically with her. Couldn't risk that guard hearing.

Follow that guy in the red t-shirt. The others will split up, so follow the guy with the red shirt and black scarf. Don't wait for me, I'll catch you up. And run.

He let go and turned to the guard, swinging his leg and kicking the feet from under him. He now had a headache that was definitely reaching migraine levels, but he needed to get the girl out. Before he could get to his feet, though, the guard did the exact same thing to Will, causing Will to lose his balance. The guard got to his feet before Will did and buried a foot in Will's stomach. He kicked him again, and then Will heard a click. But by that point, Will had a hand grasped around the guard's foot.

"Drop it," he commanded. The gun clattered to the floor. "Forget this whole situation," Will ordered, aware of the steadily increasing pounding in his head. The guard's eyes glazed over, moments before Will shut him down. His head spun as he got to his feet, but he took into a run, hoping that the girl had listened and followed the others.

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#, as written by Lorawr
Hazel had nodded quietly when he promised that he'd give her more information soon. She could understand why now may not be a good time. She shoved her hands into her pockets, following him thoughtfully as she walked through the familiar halls. She wondered if this was the last time she'd walk them. Her train of thought snapped at the yelling ahead of them. Her gaze snapped forward, just as she was grabbed and shoved to the floor.

"H-Hey!" She gasped, throwing her hands between them in what would have been an attempt to push him away had a disjointed voice not resounded in her head. She stilled her power, holding it back as she recognised it. She had no idea what was going on, but she was almost sure that using it on Whiskey would not have helped her situation.

Finding her gaze locked momentarily with his, and hearing his words although his lips didn't move, she was stunned into a sudden shock. What was going on? The questions bounced around her head, even as she heeded his instructions and scrambled to her feet. Not finding any outlet for her power, it drained from her uncontrolled, just as she continued to back away. Somewhere, a fire alarm started to screech. Hazel did as she was told then, the noise rousing her from her stupor. Her feet landed loudly on the floor, following the man in red.

The sickening sound of the clock drew her attention though, and she turned in horror to see a gun being pointed at her would-be 'hero'. Sure that she would soon see Whiskey's blood sprayed artfully across the clinically white walls. She screamed, hands held out, just on the edge of using her power again.

"Whiskey!"

Her voice echoed dumbly down the hall, just as the man rather underwhelmingly followed Whiskey's instructions and dropped the weapon. As the man turned to follow her down the hall, she stared incredulously at the guard for a moment longer, before turning and chasing the man she'd been told to follow. With no idea of what was going on, she didn't even have the focus to question it again.

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As he ran, he pulled the gun out of the holster around his hips. He hadn't pulled it while the girl had been around for fear of frightening her- but now that she was gone, he didn't have any hesitations. That and he genuinely didn't have the mind power to use his ability. They'd shut down a decent amount of the guards, but there was still a worrying amount following them, now that the siren was blaring. The siren certainly wasn't helping his headache, anyway.

They didn't seem to have any doubts about shooting at him now that the girl was gone, and he returned the favour. His aim appeared to be much better than theirs, even as he ran and they stood still. He hit practically everyone he shot at, and the best they could do was a graze to his arm- and not even his shooting arm.

He made it out to the van without too much trouble. The door was already open and waiting for them, and he jumped into it. And then somebody was yelling for them to go, and that was it. They'd made it out.

"You okay, Will?" Somebody called. He nodded, pulling the scarf from around his neck. "Yeah, just a graze. And a migraine, but that's nothing new," he remarked as he wrapped the scarf around the wound. He spotted the girl and looked her up and down. "You okay?" He asked. "And what's your name? I don't believe I got it," he said, grinning a little.