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Snippet #2509797

located in Raven Institute for Speciality Teens, a part of The Ravens Nest, one of the many universes on RPG.

Raven Institute for Speciality Teens

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roman Augustine Character Portrait: Kayden Sirrel Character Portrait: Veronica River Character Portrait: Griffin Chapel Character Portrait: Jae Jun Chambers
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The psychological inflow of going into another’s dream was always the most terrifying for Roman. She could face any nightmare or situation she could be planted right smack in. Except for this. The blackness. She liked to describe it as what she imagines the void, or limbo as others call it, feels. The place you go after death where you just simply do not exist, except in this situation it’s the place you go while entering the mind link and it only happens when she fades into someone’s dream. She cannot touch or feel, taste, hear, see, or smell. All senses gone. It’s not very delightful to be left with your thoughts and nothing else. But the light of the dream always seems to bring her back to her center of being.

This dream had no light. It was still and black, yet she felt her senses come back to her. Was there anyone here? She could hear a sound. It was too intermittent, fitful even, to be her own soft breathing, yet she couldn’t make out what exactly the noise was. Even farther beyond her grasp was how far away it was. Tentatively, Roman started to walk forward, but as she proceeded the noise became softer. Turning, she walked in the opposite direction, and the soft noise grew steadily louder. After a moment, she could make out the familiar sounds of someone crying. She hadn’t heard anyone cry in so long. The closer she got to the soft sound, the better she could make out the figure that seemed to be lighting up the darkness. As soon as she reached close enough to be within a few feet of the boy, the darkness seemed to fade away into nothingness, and the scene around her changed into the familiar walls of the RIST, or Raven's Nest as she and many of the others called it. Tilting her head, she bent down to reach the little boy's level, and said in a soft tone “Hey, what’s your name?” The little boy glanced up, revealing his saddened face. He hadn’t been crying hard enough to show it. His eyes weren't the telltale red, and there were no streams running down the soft curve of his cheeks. Sitting down fully, cross-legged on the floor, Roman gave a smile that felt unusual. She hadn’t given a kind smile since she was a child herself. “My name’s Roman. What’s wrong?” She said curiously. “Nothing! I wasn’t crying or anything!" Roman chuckled, and gave him a small tap on the shoulder with her fist in a friendly manner. “Of course not, big strong kid like you could take on anything I bet. But even if you were crying, that’d be okay. When I was your age I was a big cry baby. I would sing this silly song I heard from a musical, called My Favourite Things when I was upset.” She smiled still, and continued on to sing in a small voice “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings, these are a few of my favorite thin-“ She stopped herself with an awkward laugh, “I don’t really do that anymore however.” She didn’t even like The Sound of Music, the musical the song was from, but her mom did, and as a seven year old that was the only thing she could really cope with. The kid gave her a look of confusion, but laughed a bit afterwards. Standing up, he wiped his eyes swiftly, smiled, and said, “Roman, come play hide and seek with me!” Roman seemed to be a little surprised, but stood back up none the less. Before she could even reply, he hollered with a deviously gleeful smirk on his face, “Close your eyes and count to ten!” The words had barely left his lips before he scampered off in the other direction, fading away into the distance. Roman was left alone again, baffled. She had never been in a young child's dream before, and it made her wonder if somewhere in the walls of the RIST those god-damned officials where harbouring a young child, which was a cruelty she would not stand for. Glancing around, she could hear the echo of the young boy's laughter coming from the left wing hallway to a place she was completely unfamiliar with. Following the sound of laughter and footsteps, Roman walked, albeit with no small amount of trepidation, down the unfamiliar and cold halls. As the corridors spiraled down into the depths of the RIST, Roman began to worry. She looked high and low for the kid, but his echoing footsteps and giggling laughter were always just ahead of her. Every time she turned a corner he was already at the next one. Roman began to worry. The feeling came again. The feeling of the lost senses that each dream began and ended with. “Hey where are you!” She called out in a hurry to catch him before the dream ended. No Reply. Even his footsteps had faded from the world, as if the boy had simply vanished. She called out once more, and then as if he had been there the whole time, the boy appeared in front of her, standing at the threshold of an extensively locked door she had never ever seen, or knew existed. Glancing down at the kid, he gave a wide toothy grin and said “Thanks for following me! No one ever comes down here anymore. My name's Kayden! I hope soon we can play again soon!” Before Roman had the chance to utter a single word of response, the dream ended.

In a sudden burst of vigour and attentiveness, Roman awoke in her bed, confined still by the physical walls of the institute. The day that passed after that dimly dreary morning was something she remembered every detail of. She hadn’t felt that fervent and enquiring since reading adventurous tales in her childhood. After feverishly nit picking through whoever’s mind she could, she came to the conclusion that it wasn’t hard to find memories, often of the bad sort, about Kayden. He wasn’t a little boy any more. Wanting to uncover more and more, she wanted until the dark night set, when The Parapsychologist left his room that acted half as an office. It would take about 5 minutes for him to inform one of the acting guards to stand at the door so keep the pests of subjects out. So that’s how long Roman had to open up his file cabinet to see if there was anything on file.Slipping through the door she scurried behind his desk, and punched in the six digit code that Roman, earlier that day, scanned through his thoughts and memories to find. As it gave a soft beep signifying that it unlocked, she yanked open the drawer that barely budged any more, and looked through the names. Flipping through names of familiar people to her, and of past subjects that have died, she came across the file labelled “Sirrell, Kayden.” Slipping the rather large file from in between the practically paper thin ones beside, she opened it and scanned through it as quickly as she could, taking it in. Photographic memories helped when doing such a thing. What she discovered gave her an unsettling quite rage throughout the entirety of her body. He had been there since he was three years old. “Bloody bastards.” She muttered quietly through her gritted teeth, the utter distraught disgust she felt in that moment was pure. Shoving the file back in place in hast, she closed the drawer, but it made a loud squeal that sent chills up her spine, and forewarning nudged into her thoughts. Not a second later, a guard stepped in, and without even questioning her reasoning’s for being in such a ‘forbidden place’, he jabbed her with the silly syringe that weakened their powers to barley any use. The shitty thing is, that when one was administered to Roman, she would also fall asleep; an odd reaction.

Many hours passed in quite slumber for Roman before she entered another person’s dream that night. It was that same black, just like before. It was the one that faded into the RIST when she approached where she was supposed to be. This time, she faced that same door that she had found out about, the door that the young boy had stood in front of the night before. Yet there was no young boy this time, instead there was an older male who now towered over the 5’4 girl. She could tell it was the same person however, despite not having the baby face any more. “You’re Kayden.” She simply stated, her British tone reverting back to the usual seriousness it displayed. It was quite the contrast from how she talked to the young boy the night before. “Roman.” He stated simply. She replied back with nothing, just glancing at him. He had quite a transformation from that young boy to now, but that came as no shock. After a minute of silence, she said, rather matter-of-factly, yet still in the common serious tone, “They think you're a monster you know.” He smirked, revealing elongated canines, sharp and white. Just as frankly, he replied, "And what do you think?" To which she replied back with, "You're not a monster.” She took a small pause. “I think they're the monsters, and that the universe is going to fuck with them harder than they have you in the long run." Kayden appeared puzzled for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. It was a harsh, cold laughter. "The old, 'what comes around goes around,' eh? Not bad Roman. However, I think we're both a little smarter than that. We were born as gods among mortals, super humans, capable of pulling the world along on a little red string. However, in their jealousy and greed, the humans sought ways to bring us down to their level, and they found them. I burned their facilities into ashes, I vaporized entire buildings, killed countless people, and still, I'm trapped here in this hellish prison. As long as they pull the strings, you and I will never see the light of day again. In this world of ours, only power talks, and they hold all the cards." Kayden finished somewhat morosely, his eyes burning holes into the ground. Romans said nothing for a couple of beats, agreeing slightly in the silence of the moment that screamed louder than the words she could have spoken back. She broke it after feeling the mental tug. “The dream's ending,” stated Roman, glancing around the scene which seemed to slowly be draining out of color. “Hey... Could you bring me a book next time?" Kayden asked. Roman glanced back up at him, and after a couple of seconds, a small twitch of a smile crossed her and she said “Gladly,” before the dream disappeared.




A sharp intake of breath and a pounding in her head shot Roman up out of sleep. Groaning, she put her head down resting on her knees that she pulled up to her chest. “I dreamed of past dreams. That’s a new one.” She grumbled painfully through her migraine bent head. Reaching over to the single night stand beside her double twin bed, she yanked open the drawer and pulled out an opaque red bottle, a label on it reading ‘Tylenol extra strength.’ This was a daily routine. Pushing down and twisting the irritably child proof cap, she dumped out 4 of the pills in her hand, before sealing the bottle back up and putting it back in its place. Popping the pills in her mouth, she took a quick swig of the water resting on the table, and swallowed them down. Tylenol really stopped working for her after awhile which is why she took the way increased dose. She was probably going to over dose on them someday by pure accident. “Oh well,” she thought.

Despite her fuzzy thoughts still soaked in the drench of dreams, she had a hard time figuring out what made her dream what she had. It was the dreams in which she met Kayden, the boy locked up somewhere in the walls of RIST. She had been communicating with him for quite awhile, having read him multiple books and such. But only through dreams, never face to face. As far as the officials go, they still are under the impression she doesn’t know about that eighteen year old boy at all.

Shrugging it off, as she did most odd night occurrences, she slipped out of her bed and changed into clothes in which the ravens nest ever so kindly supplies to them. Despite the fact that they don’t treat them as humans necessarily, they do still get their basic human needs fulfilled. It was morning, time to start a new day that will always end the same.

Under the regular roof of this house, holds pain, torture, and death. Roman, so far, has been forced in getting blood tests, physical and metal tests which often are brutal, and trials to test her power. But everyone got those. Some of Romans favourite personal tests she’s had thus far are being forced into simulated nightmares where she has to go through mentally scaring situations around the basis of her fears, and try to overcome them. One they often liked to run her through was using the memory of her father cutting her with a beer bottle and breaking her arm, the only way to end it being to kill him. Every time they made the dream seem more real, and every time it was harder to get through it. But that is not the only thing they have put her through thus far. A favourite they do very often is electroshock therapy, voltage way above legal limit, to see if her brain waves alter drastically, if it heightens her powers, if it lowers her powers, or to see if her brain can fight off such physical pain or build immunity to it. They also bring in people, often new lab assistants or people from homeless shelters, and force her to spread the aching pain through their mind via the link. Roman, despite being a hard ass at times, does not want to put people who have done nothing through such a thing. The farthest they’ve made her go was giving someone around a 3 minute long seizure, but they keep testing her to see if she would be able to force someone into a vegetative state, and if so, force them into death; completely shutting off every part of the mind.

Tests were administered daily, but at all different points at the day. There was no fore warning; they would all just get simply called upon.

She really hated this place.

Yet, in all the darkness that surrounded this empty hearse of a home, she found ways to pass time. Walking out of her room, and giving a glance at the guard placed beside her door, she made her way down on of deaths hallway to the music room, as it was designated. The guard followed her only to take a rightful place to the right of the door. In a dark brooding voice, he said. “Keep the door open a crack so I can see you at all times.” Roman stared him down with hazel eyes, giving a dark look of abhorrence before slipping through the door, leaving it a crack open. Ever since the incident of her being in the chipper Paraphycologists room, she had been ordered to have an eye on her at all times.

Sitting with grace on the bench in front of the black piano placed center in the room, she rested her fingers on the correct key, and started playing a song the was ever so familiar to her. Her favourite song in fact. Some of her softly curled brown hair fell in front of her face, but she was to enveloped in playing the piano to care or to notice.