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Vasanta "Vein" Grey

Talkin' shit about a pretty sunset.

0 · 246 views · located in OKARI

a character in “Beasts of Burden: Prototype Psi”, as played by Averagebear

Description

V E I N
♬ ♬ ♬

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NAME:
Vasanta Meredith Grey

AGE:
20

APPEARANCE:
Meet the lithe, hawkish woman who may or may not oblige to kicking your ass in the near future. While not unattractive, she sports choppy, short black hair the color of dull coal and dark, pooling eyes of grey so abmysal you might get perpetually lost in them. Her appearance is more commanding than stunning, but more subtle and sophisticated than a bulking, brutish, war-scarred carcass. In fact, when she's not on the battle field, there's a certain finesse about her. She almost seems like a normal, lady-like gal until she opens her mouth. She's on the taller side of the female spectrum and is considerably pear shaped in figure, a very small bust matched with hips that simply do not lie. She's got long, willowy legs and slender, graceful fingers with nails cut short. She doesn't bother with most makeup usually, spare for eyeshadow if she's feeling particularly glamorous one day.

OUTFIT & EQUIPMENT:
If Vein reads as sensual, it isn't in the way she dresses, adorning in a unisex outfit consisting of worn calf-lengthed boots, well-fitting brown leather pants, and short-sleeved grey top that reveals her toned, freckled arms--- the type of clothing that allows for running, jumping, climbing up trees, kicking ass, but most importantly, blending in. No, if there was any flash of 'sexy' found in the woman, it wouldn't be the clothes on her back but instead the confident-leaning-on-arrogant way she carries herself and the distinctive sway in her stride. Overall, she dons an air of simplicity, efficiency, and reservation.

Before fighting, she tries to stip down out of her clothes (otherwise they'll be ripped apart by the crystallization) but sometimes she simply has to deal with it and get rid of her favorite pair of pants.

WEAPON:
Vein uses a barbed whip, poisoned at the tip, of course. She typically uses it to cripple opponents that are too far away for her claw to reach, either pulling them closer or simply stinging them with the immobilizing venom.

FACTION:
Psi

POWER:
Vein's blood animates and crystallizes to form a protective shell around her body, as well as a sharp claw on one of her hand. She typically slits her palms and the black, tar-like blood very quickly travels up her arms, coating her from the neck down, before hardening. This shell boosts her defenses and allows her to attack as a berserker, digging into opponents with her talon-like hand with ferocious power and speed.

ANIMAL:
Scorpion




PERSONALITY:
Never before has a prouder creature roamed the earth; indeed, Vein is almost unnervingly self-assured and confident in herself. Because she feels so comfortable in her own skin, she doesn't really give a damn about how she affects others, which typically means that she is tactless and crude, prone to cracking jokes at the expense of other people in situations that call for stoicism simply to sate her own appetite for entertainment. Expectant and impatient, she is often irritable when something (or someone) fails to meet her unwaveringly high standards and she makes no effort to conceal her growing sense of frustration when this is the case. She's got a sharp tongue- the type that's ever so quick to cut at an psyche- but a sharper wit. Who said criticism had to be so dreary and dismal? She is sarcastic and acerbic in nature but clever nonetheless, and she's known to be quite the little seductress if she's in the right mood. She's antagonizing and instigative, what with that jeering smile and taunting snicker, but she rarely goes into fits. Yelling is not her style. In fact, she can be hard to predict at times because she'll go from teasing, cool, calm, and collected, to shoving you against the wall or punching you square in the jaw. She prefers to speak her disatisfaction through violence rather than through words. She's got way too much arrogance to let a jab in her direction go unnoticed and you won't ever see her give up the last word unless she's unfortunately become deceased before she could. Her hurtful jokes and brash instincts can sometimes border on cruel, and when this happens there'll typically be a very subtle flash in her eyes that tells that she recognizes she's crossed a line. Still, she will never apologize for it, so stubborn that she refuses to admit she's wrong even when both parties know it. She's clearly pretty tactless, though along with her blunt nature comes persistent honesty. Yet, she's good at evading tricky questions, and can slip out of a tough situation like a writhing snake.

This isn't to say she never gets chummy with others. She's been known to pal around with a select group of people, and is relatively friendly to most strangers (if not a bit too forward). If she's been with someone for a long enough time, she becomes mildly affectionate without even thinking about it, doting on them or shadowing them unconsciously. If this is brought to light, she's quick to wave it off and pretend like she doesn't have feelings, of course. Quite frankly, Vasanta is an acquired taste hard to swallow unless you're accustomed to it. Speaking of which, she's known to dibble and dabble (and a whole lot more) in liquor. If there's one thing that's for sure, you do NOT want to associate with a sober Vein. But, hey, she needs it to keep up with her ambition. It's true, the woman's got perseverance, talent, and a damn lot of determination. She will get the job done, even if it destroys her. There is a softer side somewhere, deep, deep, deep, deep down in Vein (you might catch glimpses of it around small children) but for the most part, her abrasive yet humorous attitude is what you're going to get.

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BACKGROUND:
Vein lived a childhood with lacking parental figures - nothing too traumatic, but enough to set her down the wrong path from an early start. She became heavily immersed into the "alternative" scene in highschool, dallying in drugs and promiscuity hand in hand with the promotion of anarchy and violence. "Vasanta" became "Vein" and she was suddenly fueled with anger, angry at her parents, angry at society, angry at the institutions, angry at the world. She had dyslexia which made school hard for her, but she actually tried pretty hard in her classes (to no avail, as none of the teachers or her peers liked her due to her outlandish, immature way of dressing). Even though she was with the punks, she had plans for her future. She honestly only got caught up into the dynamic because she despeately wanted a group of people to accept her, and she could only acheive this through being an outcast- but she wanted out eventually. She needed more to her life than what she had. So she got good grades- straight As, even, despite the fact that no one congratulated her on her efforts. Her sophomore year in high school, she was suspended from school for smoking pot in the bathroom with Jeremy, her boyfriend at the time. She was crushed. In that moment, she understood that all of her efforts were futile- that no matter how hard she tried, she'd never accomplish her goals. It was stupid, silly, childish thinking, but she was just a child at the time. She went back to school but stopped trying, and let go of any dreams she had about the future.

Then, when she was fifteen, she got pregnant, assumedly by Jeremy but uncomfirmed. Unfortunately, she wasn't aware of this fact until well into her pregnancy when the bump actually showed up (she'd always had an irregular period). When she realized she'd been partying hard- with drugs and alcohol alike- with a child in her womb, she sat down on the kitchen floor and cried her eyes out. She cleaned up, forced her boyfriend to do the same, got a job, and tried to become a good role model for her future child, hoping for the best with the delivery. She was ridiculed in school, called a skank and a slut by the cruel and pitied by the patronizing, but she carried on. When she finally gave birth, her baby was born with number of physical and mental ailments; "retarded" as dubbed by her disappointed, redneck father. Everyone urged her to give the baby up for adoption.

But she kept her and loved her with all of her heart, finally given a purpose in this world. She named the girl Clover and her entire life was spent doting on her child for the next two years. Jeremy didn't go to school anymore, so he watched Clover when she was out and everything was great for a while. Vein was starting to feel better again. Things rarely stay sweet, however. One day when she came home from school, she found Jeremy overdosed on her parent's couch. She was angry and horrified and devastated, clinging to his deceased body as she cried. He was supposed to have been clean. She didn't know how long he'd still been abusing the drugs, lying to her about it, but it'd costed him his life. After a while, her sobs calmed down when she realized that it was quiet. It was so quiet in the house.

Terrified, she leapt from his body with wide eyes and ran as fast as her legs could take her upstairs, jumping four at a time until she reached Clover's room. She was missing. She remembered screaming "NO, NO, NO" at the top of her lungs here, but she doesn't know how long she did that for as she searched room after room for her baby, her beautiful baby. She eventually stumbled into the bathroom and found Clover laying limp, blue, and lifeless in the shallow pool of water in the bathtub.

Nobody knows woe like a mother who's lost her child.

She sobbed for the rest of the day, rocking Clover's body in her lap back and forth and back and forth the entire night until her alarm clock for school went off. As soon as it did, she froze, then hoisted Clover up and paced gently to her bedroom, tucking her into the blankets in her crib and kissing her on the forehead one last time. She then grabbed her father's gun and stoically, oh so slowly, walked all the way to school, still drenched from the bathtub, in yesterday's clothes, completely barefoot, looking like a ghost.

She went to first period and sat in her seat. She remembers the clock's ticks suffocating her, booming in her ears to the point where she couldn't hear anything but a resonating, "Click, click, click, click, click, click." She was only jolted out of her trance by her teacher's voice. "Ms. Grey!" Finally, her eyes locked with his. "Thank you for checking back into to class. Now I'll need you to go down to the guidance office to get a change of clothes. Dress code." Vein, hollowed and empty, merely stared at him before slowly standing up. The class became as still as her face before whispers began to permeate the room. "What's she doing?" "Freak" "Why doesn't she have shoes?" They were the enemy. They were the ones who'd caused this all.

And just like that, Vasanta Grey, at age 17, had lost her boyfriend, child, and killed 12 of her classmates in an on campus shooting.

She doesn't remember anything that happened after she shot the bullets. She'd apparently tried to shoot herself afterwords, too, but had missed because she'd been knocked to the ground, instead only ripping off the top part of one of her ears. She was first and foremost brought to the hospital to patch her up. She was brought to Okari immediately afterwards, and they'd put it in the records that she had died in operation.

They did several experiments on her and trained her relentlessly. At first she would only go back and forth between being catonic, lifeless, limp, and mute and going into raging fights of destruction and shrieking, but before long, she was able to mellow out. Funny as it is, she's probably happier than she's ever been in her entire life now. She's weirdly loyal and fiercely dedicated to Okari, despite the horrible things they'd put her through. Nothing disturbs her more than the sound of a baby crying. It's sure to elicit a terrible reaction from he every time. Other than that, she's made a full recovery, a deadly weapon to be used for the greater good of politics and consumption ism. It's almost funny how she went from fighting the man to being the man's attack dog.

MISC:
Vein's a good person, but she's got a very strong sense of duty and will do as she's told, despite how often she preaches about rebellion and independence.

The first picture shows Vein when she's not fighting, the second shows a transition, when her blood is just beginning to creep up her arms.

So begins...

Vasanta "Vein" Grey's Story

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Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey
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V E I N



A long, loud, and protestive growl escaped the woman's peachy lips. "Someone ought to go kill those fucking birds already. They've been singing all damn morning. 'Make for a good breakfast, too, I'd bet." she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was a joke, however crude of one, but when her pooling eyes of grey focused on the caramel skinned lass who'd come and fetched her from her sleeping reverie earlier to escort her to yet another holding chamber, she wasn't surprised to see that she was completely unfazed by her whining. "What, is that just me? No one else is bothered by those chirping bastards?" she hummed, glancing about her surroundings absent mindedly. It was too white, the room.

"I happen to enjoy their songs, Vein." the woman replied firmly, scribbling on a clip board as opposed to making eye contact with her. Vasanta Grey shook her head and dismissed the woman's objection with a physical wave of her hand, a gesture that got across the general idea of "whatever". Suddenly, a prick stung at the crook of her elbow, and Vein clicked her teeth as the needle now protruding from her pale skin began to inject the liquid into her system. "Come on, at least have the fuckin' decency to warn a girl before you stab her, will you?" she huffed agitatedly. The nurse didn't respond, instead withdrawing the syringue and swabbing the puncture with alcohol. It was clear that this routine was not a new one.

Vein had to have a weekly check up with the physicians and nurses due to the volatile nature of her power. She'd been warned over and over again that one day, her heart might simply reject the tar like poison that pumped through her body at any moment, and she'd keel over and die, just like that. Preventitive measures were taken, such as supplying her body with nutrients that could effect her health, but Vein was pretty sure that a weekly dose of iron wasn't going to stop much of anything. One day, she'd be dead and that was that. It was all very unnecessary in her eyes.

"Are you excited for your Psi orientations, Vasanta?" she asked as she riffled through her cabinet. Vein glared at her, unamused by her feigned attempts at conversationalism. Small talk wasn't a thing that Vein did, especially not while cooped up in rooms like these. "Vein." she barked simply. Are you excited for your Psi orientations, Vein?" the woman repeated. By now, the charcoal haired psi was downright done with all of these shenanigans, and decided to take her leave. "You know what, Doc, this has been great and all but I think I'm just gonna go do something producti-" Vein began to drawl sassily, standing up from the seat and heading for the door way with her distinctive swagger. Before she could finish, the woman was scurrying over to her in a fuss, horse pills and liquid death syrup in either hand. "Vasanta, wait just a minute. You need to take th-"

Suddenly, the intercom sounded off. "All prototypes, please report to the commons. All prototypes, please report to the commons." A smug grin spread across Vein's face as she bobbed out of the threshold. "Oh, sorry, gotta go. Very urgent business. Maybe another time, Doc!" she called over her shoulder, slinking down the hallway and stretching her arms behind her back as she made her way over to one of her least favorite places in this entire hell hole. She'd probably have to pay for the disobedience later, she acknowledged. She almost regretted it, but Vein made a point not to regret anything.

"Heh, you'd think they'd at least try to make these meetings sound more enjoyable." she said to herself, tired of being called a prototype and sick of the dreary, dismal way things were presented. She mocked the speaker's voice as she pulled out a flask from her pocket. "All party people, please report to the fun station. Repeat, every cool cat, get your booty to funky town immediately." she mimicked, taking several large gulps of a beverage unmistakably alcoholic immediately afterward. Her own chuckle at her joke was replaced by a heavy sigh as she swung open the doors that lead to the meeting. She wondered if she should feel special for being a Psi for a brief moment before she scoffed at herself for that thought all together. Of course she wasn't special. She was a fuckin' tool to be used, one of many, something that could easily be replaced. She would have to obey her orders and kill whoever they pointed at, or she'd be down in a minute.

Well, on the bright side, she was relatively early for once in her life.

She strut inside, eyes locking onto the redhead already in the room and offering the man a wicked fox-like grin. "Glad to see I've got pleasant company," she stated, looking over him with those sardonic hawk eyes of hers. It was unclear whether her greeting was genuine or sarcastic, mostly because she couldn't quite figure it out yet herself. Time would tell. She blankly looked around the room, assessing the things around her. "This should be a god damn blast." she said sarcastically. She could feel the blood in her joints stiffen with the anxiousness she refused to admit she possessed, so she cracked her neck and nuckles in an attempt to relieve the pressure. Much quieter this time, and mostly to herself, she mumbled, "And let the games begin."

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Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman


The soft rushing sound in her ears was relaxing, and had become commonplace for the time spent in the darkness. This had become a darkness that she now acknowledged as a container for her conscious. Every now and then, imagery would assert itself in her mind and she would fade into a dream but this would be interrupted by various odd sounds that disturbed her rest and made it impossible for her mind to be wholly at ease. Only when she felt the blanket of deafening stillness fall, where even the sound of the silken liquid surrounding her went quiet, did she find repose and peace. However, this time, it wasn’t an unnatural noise that agitated her mind. This time, an unintelligible commotion beat against her hearing and woke her from her previous semi-slumber.

“All reports are positive, sir. Should we begin extraction?”

Anrie’s mind took only a few seconds to register the garbled wording. It was like the liquid around her had absorbed the meaning and gave her the sound itself. Her eyes searched the darkness that she was snug with as if for some way to possibly remain where she was comfortable without any worry. Another distorted voice reached her ears in quick succession of a smaller feminine voice but this time she couldn’t understand quite what the man was saying. She only knew that this person was a man, and that he had power to command.

“Heart rate is increasing.”…
“No matter, Begin extraction.”

Anrie sensed rather than heard silence begin to close around her, which relaxed her mind, since this was the standard process beginning her sleep period. She allowed her body to unwind, muscle-by-muscle, breath-by-breath. She was almost at the point where slumber would have stilled her body into a frozen stasis but the sharp click awoke every muscle she had relaxed. It was unlike any other sensation to feel the caress of chilled air touch her scalp and then proceed down, like sharp needles continuing a steady process of checking every pore she had on her body. Anrie gasped, lips parting in a moan as the cold air burned her lungs on intake. Her eyes refused to open, shutting tighter as if to push away all the sensation by throwing her vision further into the darkness, although white sparks bloomed along her vision, which negated the effect she desired. The tiny woman felt the solid bracelets that she had forgotten were encircling her wrists fall away and she slumped to her feet, rustling the bracelets on her ankles by pulling her legs closer to her body. The pale-skinned woman whose sleek black hair clung to her face still soaked by the previous liquid trembled weakly.

The next few moments which felt like hours were filled with constant noise and sensations. The buzz of scientists scribbling notes like they had seen something so fascinating filled her mind as she slowly uncurled and managed to feel around with her fingers. Hesitantly, Anrie forced her eyes to open to help her get a feeling for the objects around her. Her senses continued to awaken by the bright glare of lights, the noise of scratching pens, the rustle of papers, the various voices murmuring reports and notes, and the sound of approaching footsteps that seemed careful and tenacious.

“Are you okay? Do you remember your name? Age?” The hand that touched her naked shoulder was extremely hot but then again Anrie realized that she was tremendously cold and that was the cause for her tremble. “I’m cold. Anrie Ackerman? Also, I’m nineteen.” The woman turned her head, the soft honeyed hair on top of her head falling of her shoulders. Anrie got the full image of Mary in the sunlight of the gardens and the sharp sound whispered from her lips before she could stop it. The woman, now looking more like a nurse as Anrie scanned her further creased her brow in worriment. “No, my dear. You got only one right. You are Anrie Ackerman. You’re twenty now. Okay?” The woman’s gentle tone caused Anrie to cease her struggling and the tranquility could be seen as it fell over her expression.

“Yes.” Anrie murmured and took the hand that the woman had extended to help her up. “I’m Santaio, I’m here to help. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and prepared. I’ll take care of you.” The woman’s exotic features and gentle smile warmed Anrie’s body from the core up to her chest. The feeling was pleasant and the muscles in her hand clenched tighter around the nurse’s much larger hand.




Anrie stood in a small room dressed in her usual business attire. Santaio sat in a chair at the back of the room and the scientist from before with the booming, authoritative voice that she recognized from when she had been reborn was standing not far behind where one of the rubber dummies stared at her. Other dummies were also nearby but they were made from materials like steel, titanium, plastic, and other various resources. She heard the strong bark of an order and didn’t hesitate to repeat her previous action. Not with Santaio watching her, because this was a once in a lifetime chance to prove her worth to someone she adored. Her expression remained as dead as always but her swift movement was barely follow as she leapt as the rubber dummy and phased through the material. The only difference was the severe breathlessness coming so inaudibly from her tiny body that it was scarcely heard. The man spoke up, his voice lightened by approval.

“Well done. Anrie. Please repeat on the titanium alloy two more times since you have more trouble with that one.” His dark beady eyes full of questions and pressure didn’t faze her because she could see the smile of Santaio’s face. She nodded and turned to follow the order. She would never complain, never question, nor dare to disobey because these people needed her. They trusted her. The corner of her lips twitched which was the only indication to her satisfaction because she could never figure out how properly work her facial expressions and she didn’t quite care too either. They were fine the way they were. Nothing pleased her more than Santaio and even then, she wasn’t required to stress herself with trying too hard.




After being cleaned up by her personal nurse she laid on the bed contented to watch Santaio, the nurse, wander around her room documenting whatever it was that she cared about. Every now and then, the woman would glance over with those wide brown eyes and smile warmly but then return to work. Anrie would wait patiently, her own crimson-colored eyes seeming uninterested in everything that surrounded her. Even her lips drew a nice straight line of disinterest.

“Anrie, dear, Psi and Beta orientation starts soon. Get changed into something cute and stand at the door.” Santaio turned and gestured at the clothes set out for the week. They were all assortments of skirts and blouses, items that Anrie had requested very politely and meekly to Santaio, nervous to disappoint her. “Yes.” She didn’t ask what Santaio meant by ‘cute’ but she would try her very best to figure it out. Anrie stood briskly and wandered over to the neatly folded pile, examining the clothing with a critical eye. Finally she pulled out a pressed, white blouse with long sleeves and a pleated black skirt. She picked out some black closed-toe sandals and slid her feet into them after she dressed herself properly. She glanced about for her glasses but Santaio appeared with them in hand. “Here, your last pair broke remember? I got some new ones for you sweetheart.” Anrie nodded and slid the glasses tenderly from the woman’s hand and onto the bridge of her nose. The weight settled comfortably and she continued her order by running her slender fingers through her short hair, straightening out the very rare rebel strands. “Thank you.” Anrie mumbled as she noiselessly strolled over to the door.

“No problem at all. Let’s go, you look wonderful. I’ll drop you off at the commons.” Anrie waited for Santaio to take the lead and eventually followed a few feet behind. She kept her gaze cast to tiled floor, paying no mind to the figures, objects, and passersby that the duo happened to run into. She wouldn’t bother sense she only had the objective of listening to the orders given. The rest was unimportant. There was no set priority for things like attention to detail unless they told her too.

They arrived at the commons and Anrie was ushered inside but left alone almost as soon as she had taken a few steps inside. She stared at the exit for a few seconds before deciding that it was an implied instruction to stay where she had been placed. Anrie took that moment to dissolve into the shadows across the way from where statuesque-like man read a book.

"All prototypes, please report to the commons. All prototypes, please report to the commons."

The static voice surged from the intercom and Anrie raised her head to search for the source of the noise but lowered it upon recognition of where it had come from, the only movement seen in the dim, but not black, shadow in her corner.

The next entrance came a redheaded woman, slender and unique. "Glad to see I've got pleasant company," she stated, towards the man. Anrie closed her eyes as if to shut out the world, although from the outside it probably would have appeared like she was showing snobby disdain for the woman because her lips turned down ever so slightly at the corners. “This should be a god damn blast." The woman seemed sarcastic enough. Anrie didn’t bother to catch the next comment as she blocked out the sounds for a few blessed seconds and gathered herself back to thinking about her new instruction. How would she perfect this? Would she be the model student who asked valuable questions in an orientation or the responsible, silent type?

Anrie opened her eyes to half-mast, simply staring at nothing at all, lost in her thoughts. Her arms had crossed themselves and her right leg had overlapped over the left at the ankle as she steadied her weight on the wall behind her. She paid no mind to the procession of people unless one caught her interest or curiosity. She only glanced up every now and then to catalogue a face and then returned to her muteness.

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V E I N



As each creature was corralled into the room, Vein analyzed them with intense skepticism. The only one who'd even bothered to speak besides her was tall-dark-and-pony-tailed, who appeared to be downright enjoying himself. Her brows raised as he passed by, seemingly unfazed by the heavy atmosphere that hung in the air. She snorted and rolled her eyes, but said no more, becoming increasingly preoccupied by her own finger nails until the doctor came shuffling in.

Again, Vein was left frustrated, in the dark, and wanting answers as she glowered at the man towering in the center of the stage, grim and refined, hiding behind glasses. She scoffed under her breath at the sight of his clip board and pen. "Seems like you ain't gettin' nowhere unless you got a clipboard nowadays." she mused, partially interested in obtaining one for herself, if not just to be a smart ass. She only vaguely recalled receiving her clearance card, remembering how proud her instructor had looked- not in that motherly way, but in the way you'd stare at a great science project. She patted down her body, knowing she'd stashed it somewhere, before remembering that she'd tucked it into her bra. She snaked a hand down her shirt, retrieving the mostly crumpled paper and taking note of the words at the bottom. Oh, right. Psi. She'd heard the word too much the past day, and she still didn't even know what it meant.

Nothing drove Vein as batty as ambiguity. "Tch," she clucked, unimpressed, before shoving the parcel back into her bra and leaning back in her chair. She propped her legs up on the table, angling the chair so far back that she looked as if she were teetering dangerously close to falling back. She ruffled her hands into her hair and huffed. She made a show of indifference, but this whole scene was ebbing away at whatever sense of security she'd somehow managed to latch onto in her training. When she was busy slicing into dummies and becoming a human scorpion, she was at ease. The combat came easily to her. She could handle those objectives. But when she was tossed into a world of uncertainty, the subtle reminder that she was not at home, nor were her instructors her friends, blared in her mind. She tilted back even farther in her chair and instinctively curled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her slender arms around them. Miraculously enough, she remained perfectly upright on the two legs of the chair that remained on the ground. She had an impecible hold on her center of gravity since they'd mutated her into a monster in disguise. She didn't even really notice the new things she was capable of, though. She took for granted everything she could.

"What the fuck does being a psi entail?" she thought, getting slightly worried. She was pretty sure she'd been doing everything right with her training. Hopefully it would be some sort of reward. She quickly brought her eyes back from the ceiling to get a look at those who shuffled out of the room, then at those she was surrounded by. She desperately wanted to talk to someone- anyone, really - because she was impulsive and it soothed her, but it seemed that most prototypes weren't ones for chatting. So she continued to lean in her chair and dug her nail into the palm of her hand, increasing the pressure until the skin broke and black oozed from the minor wound, pooling into the center, and settling down again at her will. She concentrated on making shapes with the tiny amount of animated blood, first a sphere, then a square, then distinctly male genitalia. She had to do this exercise every day for so long that it became second nature to her.

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V E I N



Vein watched as some left and others stayed, sheperded like cattle either way. She was left only to look at her fellow Psi as the Betas trailed out of the room. There was a boyish woman - the stoic type, she presumed - who'd been in the near proximity to the newly separated siblings. That in itself kind of bothered Vein, as they'd seemed close, but she ruled off the empathy immediately due to the fact that she didn't know them and far graver tragedies had passed in this facility. That redhead had retreated to a table to read, apparently some sort of intellectual. A man in a ratty-ass jacket leaned against the wall, indifferent to everything. He seemed different from everyone else, but she coudln't quite place a finger on it. With a hum, she turned her head robotically, avoiding thinking about it at all, and in her train of sight she found a woman that she didn't notice before. She frowned, taking the sight of her in. She looked like a porcelain doll, out of place among the calloused and edgy- too beautiful, really. How had Vein not seen her before?

“Seems I’m a Psi. Think this means we get medals?” the chatty bird crowed once more and, despite herself, she chuckled, the sound both hoarse from smoking and melodic- not unpleasant, just distinguishly huskier. She directed the black blood in her palm back into its wound and willed it to harden into a scab that would heal in no time, bored with her own penchants already.

"Mmm, maybe they're sorting out the kids with peanut allergies. You know, so when OKARI passes out the routine cookie platters, none of 'em accidentally swallow a nut." she mused, bordering back and forth between being good natured and bitter about the whole thing. "Or maybe we're about to play flag football so we're getting sorted into teams?" She held onto a wry grin as she darted her stormy eyes over in his direction, only for a couple seconds, before gazing up at the ceiling again. The matter of fact was that each and every person in this room understood that the introduction of Psi was more than likely not a good thing, and would mean someone's blood would spill. She was kind of comparing child's play to genocide, and the juxtaposition weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach. She finally let the chair she was still leaning in fall to all fours, and perched criss cross applesauce in her chair, folding long limbs underneath herself as she draped her upperhalf on the table, resting her chin on her upturned hand.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Cyrus Vanbruke Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Michael Lorentz
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V E I N


When the man laughed at her comments, the smallest of smiles graced her plump, peachy lips. She truly enjoyed it when others appreciated her as much as she appreciated herself, and acknowledging her comedic nature could easily put you in a good standing with the woman almost immediately, as if smoothing out her feathers. No one around here had a sense of humor. She cleared her throat to make sure she didn't seem too delighted, but her smugness could not go unnoticed. She stole another glance at him.

“A peanut allergy or a recreational game huh? Well most sports games imply team work, so we should at least introduce ourselves right? I’m Francis Washi…” the man had begun, and she drank in his appearance as he spoke. He had a way of talking to the whole room, a commanding presence, she'd note. He was interrupted by the grumpy academic. “I'm calling bullshit,” He had sighed. Vein nodded her head empathetically as if to say "fair enough". She could understand his concern. His objection wasn't outrageous in the slightest, knowing OKARI. It wasn't a surprise when the droopy looking doctor who was leading the Betas out of the room refused the spectacled guy. When it came down to it, it didn't matter what any of them did. The organization that ran them would ravage them, fully and violently, until they'd had enough. There was no escaping it, no rebeling. It was a futile fight, but one she could respect nonetheless.

You could feel confrontation sizzling in the air like a static charge and Vein merely continued to watch the scene with a mild amount of amusement. She appreciated the spunk the Betas had. That said, when can that had been turned into a killing device was hurled at the doctor's head, and Vein didn't even attempt to act concerned for his well being. She did, however, react when the projectile was ripped into slivers and gauged the floor. "Holy shit," Vein breathed, looking about the room for the person responsible for this act. Her nonvocalized question was answered almost immediately as that man with the fringey coat began to speak. Her eyes caught onto a wire that was - "Woah, is that around his throat?" She couldn't even hear what he had to say, too distracted by analyzing his powers to listen. She only heard him say, "Can we get this going along, Betas?" Vein hadn't even realized that her muscles were slightly tensed, but as soon as she did, she went back to the incredibly languid body language she'd possessed before, lounging in her hair with her hands entwined behind her neck. She sniffed and nodded her head. "Huh. That's pretty bad ass." she commented, an observation rather than a compliment.

Then "Francis Washi-" began to talk again. "Since it seems like we'll be involved with each other for the moment. Having a name to a face is much more beneficial in any team situation, especially if its football," she snorted here, "so why not introduce yourselves. Like i was about to say, i'm Francis Washington, just call me Wash. I enjoy painting and long walks on beaches. It's a pleasure to finally be able meet you all" Jane introduced herself first, and Vein hummed. She wondered what her brother's name had been and tried not to recognize that she just used past tense when referring to him.

"Alright, my name's Vein. I occassionally turn into a walking shard of crystal in my free time." she drawled, taking another sip from her flask after her introduction. "And if I'd have known this would have been socialite hour, I woulda gotten drunk off my ass beforehand."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leliana and Charlotte Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Cyrus Vanbruke Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Michael Lorentz Character Portrait: Alexander Clark
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#, as written by slcam
Irene's gaze went immediately to the door, interested in the spectacle. It seemed a couple of the Betas, a dark haired woman and this "Mr.Lorentz", were not happy with the total lack of information. It looked like it would dissolve into a fight, probably with the scientist being killed or worse. Lorentz hurled a spike at the man. It was made of some aluminum that he had been messing with before that probably had been a pop can. Irene calmly wondered if his power was simply manipulation of objects, or if it was something more complex than that. Suddenly, wires darted out from a man that Irene hadn't noticed before. One of the wires that hadn't sliced the spike, and the floor, wrapped around the scientist's neck. The mysterious man then got them going to their destination. It was supposedly some meeting, though Irene doubted that was the whole truth. With that, the Betas shuffled down the hall and out of sight.

With almost half of the prototypes now out of the room, Irene was feeling ever so slightly more comfortable. She was used to waiting quietly, though the first while she had been here she hated never knowing what was going on, she eventually became used to it. Now, however, some of the other Psi were trying to start conversation and get to know each other. She decided it would be a nice change, and she listened attentively to each introduction.

The first man, who started the conversation, said his name is Francis Washington, Wash for short, and some nonsense about painting and walking on the beach. He was a tall man with long, dark hair drawn back into a ponytail. The next was Jane, whose brother had greeted Irene. She hoped that he would be alright, but quickly pushed the thought away. It was useless to worry or become attached at a place like this where everyone was replacable. Next was the woman who called herself Vein. She seemed confident, even showing a sarcastic sense of humor that Irene found refreshing in all this blandness.

While the others were introdicing themselves, the man who had seemed busy reading a book apparently finished and was talking to a woman at the service counter. A moment later, he set a few cups of coffee infront of them while introducing himself as Zakhar. She nodded at him with an abrupt, "Thank you," before introducing herself. "I am Irene Thompson. You may call me whatever you wish, I don't much care." The statment didnt seem to be to anyone in particular, but to everyone in the room. She calmly sipped the coffee, enjoying the warmth and bitterness. It did wake her up a bit, and she enjoyed it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman

Anrie sat still in her chair as the betas completely left. The room’s babble lessened once more before the man who had been chatty since the moment he had came in spoke up again. This time she listened in, getting the sense that she would be passing time with these people whether she wanted too or not.

"Since it seems like we'll be involved with each other for the moment. Having a name to a face is much more beneficial in any team situation, especially if its football, so why not introduce yourselves. Like I was about to say, I'm Francis Washington, just call me Wash. I enjoy painting and long walks on beaches. It's a pleasure to finally be able meet you all" Anrie gazed at him, wondering how he could talk so much in a situation like this where he was surrounded by possibly dangerous people and had the chance that many of them not want to talk, might simply hate him for saying anything at all. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek, a subtle sign of displeasure.

However, she waited patiently. Anrie would introduce herself in a moment when she had gathered the information from the others. How would she do it? Was a simple greeting efficient? Did they want all her hobbies? Anrie realized she was still gawking and lowered her gaze to her lap to think but a feminine voice, sounding restless, paused her thoughts and made her raise her gaze to find the speaker. “Jane.” Anrie straightened in her seat, finding that perhaps she could find a balance in the conversational technique. If she could use a friendly approach and yet find simplicity at the same time, approval would be secured. ‘Hello. I’m Anrie Ackerman. Pleased to meet you…No that wouldn’t work. Is it too formal? How would I greet Santaio? A variation of that would perhaps work. I’m pleased to meet all of you. My name is Anrie Ackerman. Ahah!’ She found the answer to her trouble right as the next woman spoke. "Alright, my name's Vein. I occassionally turn into a walking shard of crystal in my free time." Vein drawled, taking another sip from her flask after her introduction. "And if I'd have known this would have been socialite hour, I woulda gotten drunk off my ass beforehand." Anrie placed a hand to her lips hiding the inner chuckle that didn't quite make it to her outside appearance but was there in her mind. The woman certainly had funny jokes for being such a seemingly rowdy person. Anrie brushed off the amusement and restlessly took her raised hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear and return to her own introduction.

She started to speak but a coffee cup settled down in front of her and she quieted, following the hand up to see the red-haired man. "Zakhar." Anrie nodded, and put the face to the name like she had done for the others. He seemed rather agreeable compared to her first analysis of his attitude. "It will wake you up." He gestured to the coffee but Anrie glanced to the last person to speak up and waited before she did anything. Her expression bordered on calm boredom and interest, which was an odd combination. "Thank you," The woman spoke to Zakhar before beginning, "I am Irene Thompson. You may call me whatever you wish, I don't much care." Irene sipped at her coffee and Anrie contemplated her attitude. Maybe Irene felt the same way she did? The answer was most likely not. She looked down at the sophisticated looking coffee cup sitting in front of her and she felt the corner of her lips pull ever so slightly. Almost a smile but the feeling faded as soon as it came and she exhaled serenely.

Anrie tenderly reached forward and curled her hands around the warm cup, looking into the depths of the black liquid as she prepared her own introduction, going over the key points again. Perfection was the first key.

“Thank you, Zakhar. I’m pleased to meet you all. My name is Anrie Ackerman. I hope that we will all experience pleasant times together.” She raised her eyes and cast them over the people surrounding her, emotionless strength whispering from her crimson gaze. She truly hoped that the future would bode well and that she would not be facing these people in battle. For one to have bloodstained hands was for one to place a responsibility upon their shoulders. She didn’t believe in this rule. She killed because it was necessary and if any of them became something that was necessary to kill, she could not hesitate no matter her feelings on it. Anrie raised the cup gingerly and took a small sip.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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Frustration seemed to pound through every single of beat of her slender fingers as the sibling tapped her nails against the table. Her restlessness showed in the tension of her shoulders and the inclination of discontent in her gaze. A gaze which seemed to refuse acceptance of anyone within that cold room. “Jane” She’d said simply without looking up to address anyone.

“Thank you, Jane” Francis bowed.

Briefly, his sharp eyes observed Jane with hint of sorrow, like a farmer to his sick livestock before he sat down as if stepping of stage. Francis’ handsome face came to rest against his hand as he waited patiently for the introduction of the others. His constant grin implying his wry amusement. He didn’t have to wait long.

"Alright, my name's Vein. I occasionally turn into a walking shard of crystal in my free time." Vein drawled, taking another sip from her flask. Francis’ hazel eyes followed the motion up and down as if it where natural. "And if I'd have known this would have been socialite hour, I woulda gotten drunk off my ass beforehand." He chuckled lightly at the remark, the words suiting her prior action perfectly.

Temporarily, Vein’s lips betrayed the slightest hint of a smile and perhaps amusement at Francis’ mannerisms. Francis hummed in return to her introduction, his soft features contradicting her boldness. He appreciated her good sense of humor, a rare quality in a place such as this. “Ha, Never fear, I’m sure plenty of other opportunities will present themselves in future” He greeted her with another smile, his voice filled with mirth. His other hand gestured with a nonchalant wave whilst he looked towards her flask once more. “Besides, I always hear it’s more enjoyable to drink in the presence of others, particularly ones as raggedy as us”

Quite suddenly, the red haired man stood up, a tiny, dissatisfied twitch of his mouth the only indication of his thoughts. As if on some hidden signal, one of his long, spider-like limbs had discarded his book to the side like a dead fly. That book that he’d been so keenly reading over the course of the orientation. Zahkar was his name. A creature guided by fickle whims it seemed. Francis had merely nodded his head in agreement when the man returned with a trio of steaming cups in hand.

Another woman did likewise and nodded her thanks as she simultaneously addressed Zakhar and the group, "Thank you, I am Irene Thompson. You may call me whatever you wish, I don't much care." Her face gave of a contented look as she sipped from the warm liquid. Irene's calm figure exuded a quiet confidence and like Vein, she was bold, but bold in action as opposed to emotion.

“Thank you, Zakhar. I’m pleased to meet you all. My name is Anrie Ackerman. I hope that we will all experience pleasant times together.” Anrie was last but not least. Her quiet introduction only came after much deliberation as her mouth struggled to form the right words. She’d startled him at first, with her crimson eyes and a staunch gaze which contradicted her tender figure. Like before, her thoughts became a mystery to him. Her introduction was delivered without any inflection of emotion, her voice and attitude verging on boredom and indifference. Still, he was glad that she'd spoken at all. It meant that she wasn't completely opposed to the idea of socialising. He had to resist the urge of teasing these two woman, Irene and Anrie, their quiet personalities fueling his curiosity. Instead he settled his attention on the distinct smell of tobacco once more.

Zakhar had lit a cigarette once more in reply before speaking, the smoke hovering over his face, "Nice to meet you."

At that, Francis clapped once, apparently taking a moment to gaze at them all as he rubbed his hands together. “That’s everyone! Well done team Psi! And fear not…” He commended them all with his delighted expression, his white grin almost gleaming under the light. “No matter what situations may arise in future, no matter your pasts, I can earnestly say that is my greatest pleasure to be able to meet you all now. We all share a similar fate, so at the very least lets enjoy ourselves for the moment. These meetings don't come often afterall”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: 4261B: John Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Michael Lorentz
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#, as written by Tilt
John hesitated over the threshold, not because he was surprised at the room (he had long ago stopped being surprised at the range of environments housed in the OKARI base), but because stepping into the room was like falling underwater, like stuffing his head with cotton. He couldn't see into anyone's head anymore. There were no more sights or sounds filtering through his head. He stifled his reaction and sauntered over to the cushy, generic-looking couch. He threw him self down on it, so that he was sprawled lazily over one corner.

"It's probably just another test," he said with deliberate loudness. He had no doubt that they were being monitored in some way by someone. If there was a fight coming, he was more comfortable playing the dumb blonde than announcing his intentions. And if any of the other Betas were convinced by them and could be made into human shields, so be it.

---

Jane was annoyed when Francis accepted her curt introduction with charm and graciousness. The chatty girl called herself Vein, which was stupid. She kept petulantly silent, closing her eyes. John wasn't hurt. He wasn't panicked. Maybe she was overreacting...

"Zakhar." Her musings were interrupted when the crimson-haired boy set a hot cup of coffee in front of her. Jane almost thought he had made a joke the way he introduced himself. She eyed the cup he put in front of her, before taking it and drinking it down. She wouldn't even admit to herself that the small twinge she felt was gratitude. She sipped the drink while tapping her nails against the table, a staccato rhythm to accompany her agitation. Her fury only rose the longer they spoke and exchanged pleasantries. The girl who bored her was Anrie, the girl who stared was Irene (though apparently Jane had express permission to find a name more suitable), and golly gee, weren't they all just so thrilled to be together forever! Finally, she slapped her palm down on the table, hard.

"Pardon my manners," she snarled, "But I just want to be clear. Are we only pretending to engage in inane chatter while God know who decides who knows what about our immediate futures, or are we actually that dense?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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V E I N


Vein agreed with Francis' incentive and, as if to show it, tilted her container to the room, took another sip, and then pocketed it once more. Everyone else introduced themselves afterward, and she found that their names were Zahkar, Irene, and Anrie. She eyed the coffee that she didn't receive with a mild amount of bitterness, but she could understand why the red headed guy wouldn't have gotten her a cup as well. She was kind of an obnoxious asshole who still went by a call name she'd given herself when she was fourteen and "goth". She laughed at the word, and her own stupidity, and suddenly her desire for their coffee had vanished because she didn't really give a shit.

All of her "team mates" were weirdos, herself included, albeit they had their charms. Zakhar was awkward but sociable enough, Irene blunt but to the point, Anrie formulated by polite nonetheless, Francis chatty but well intentioned, Jane curt but the only one who didn't seem to be currently deluding herself. She wondered idly if they'd ever accomplish much of anything. Then Zak was lighting a cig and Vein considered fetching one of her own but didn't for the sake of not looking like some sort of mime.

Wash clapped his hands and began to spill out an inspirational speech. She had to applaud him for preaching to such an unmoved crowd. Clearly none of the other occupants in the room were easily enthused or even a little bit inspired, but he certainly tried. She could appreciate that kind of tenacity, though she was sure he must have been faking everything he said. No one could be that genuinely happy after OKARI. No one. So, even if she doubted his sincerity, it was noted that he gave effort to being a civil human being.

"Pardon my manners," Jane growled. "But I just want to be clear. Are we only pretending to engage in inane chatter while God know who decides who knows what about our immediate futures, or are we actually that dense?" she had said. Vein laughed, loud. She barked it out, not even trying to seem she didn't find the outburst hilarious- not making fun of her, but rather the other way around. Her spunk was refreshing, and her words rang with a truth that Vein had been thinking this entire time. Honestly, Vasanta was as frustrated with their situation as Jane seemed to be, so the vocalization was something she delighted in. She let her chuckles die out, and wiped a tear from her eye. "Pretty sure it's the latter of the two," she answered with a sigh, cracking her neck and giving one of those wry grins that really meant, "what the fuck are we doing here?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman

Anrie took a healthy swallow from the teacup before holding it close, her pinky up elegantly as if she had no worries in the world. Inside her mind however, was a flurry of questions, remarks, and comments. She eyed the cigarette that Zakhar had pulled out conveniently and wondered; did the nicotine really help to relieved stress? If it did, perhaps it was a habit she should have tried. The mental image of her smoking however seemed uncool and she discarded the idea, returning to take another sip from her own drink but found that there was none to have. She set the cup down and narrowed her eyes, the first real sign of emotion in a desolate place.

Anrie raised her gaze and nodded slightly at Francis who had begun his constant babble again. This time it was to praise them for being good kids. Anrie would have blushed if Santaio had been in that chair saying those words. No, she would have blushed and cried tears of joy. She marveled if she would ever hear those beautiful words from her favorite person. The thought was enough to want to go running to ask right then and there. Anrie pushed the thoughts away to try and refocus her attention.

“No matter what situations may arise in future, no matter your pasts, I can earnestly say that is my greatest pleasure to be able to meet you all now. We all share a similar fate, so at the very least lets enjoy ourselves for the moment. These meetings don't come often after all” Anrie tilted her head, vaguely perturbed by his words. In no way at all did they share the same fate. Where she believed that they would die unfulfilled and lonely, she would live to be praised and loved. This made her expression relax into a serene blankness, as if in her own world once more.

However, a rather extreme movement broke her beautiful daydream into pieces. "Pardon my manners," Jane snarled, "But I just want to be clear. Are we only pretending to engage in inane chatter while God know who decides who knows what about our immediate futures, or are we actually that dense?" Anrie sighed lightly and clasped her hands in her lap. While lost in her thoughts she had forgotten where she was, and whom she happened to be surrounded by. Of course, she didn’t want to become estranged like the rest of them nor become friendly. She had almost accomplished losing sight of her mission at hand.

Vein began to laugh at the tiny woman’s remark as if it were the world’s funniest joke. Anrie scowled, not visibly able to be seen, but only noticeable by the bare quirk of her downturned lips. Her eyes were cold orbs hiding behind a mask, and behind that mask lay quiet annoyance. Vein spoke up after wiping her tears and stilling. "Pretty sure it's the latter of the two," Vein answered with a sigh, then proceeding to crack her neck in a masculine appearance, or at least it seemed masculine to Anrie. Then again, she couldn’t do it herself so maybe it was just jealously speaking. Anrie bit the inside of her lip reminding herself not to get carried away.

"Jane... was it?" Anrie perked, caught by the tone of his voice. Zakhar flicked his cigarette away, the movement causing Anrie to stiffen. He stepped closer to the table and she went so very still. So still, that she would have been a corpse if not for how she was sitting, watching very carefully as the situation unfolded. Zakhar placed his hands on the table meeting Jane’s gaze. Anrie didn’t bother to see the reaction of Jane. The slow display was interesting and she had no wish not to see what would happen next.

He gestured slightly to his right, where cameras hung from the walls, to where a guard stood, and to the large one-way mirror kept watch of the activity below probably hiding the scientists who had only study in mind. Anrie took this in, but then, she had already known of the watchful eye of OKARI.

"If you object.." A grin had begun to form on Zakhar’s face, one so cruel and vicious that she glanced at Jane briefly to see if there was an attack ongoing. Her breath caught, freezing in its track as excitement pulsed through her veins. The thing however that made her so stilled and so excited was that he had remained calm in voice ever since the beginning. It reeled you in and before you could realize it, you were caught in its web, unable to run.

"They. Will. Kill. You." Anrie let out the breath she had been holding and pulled her gaze away to stare down at the table. It was the truth. Disobeying orders would get you killed. You were here not because you wanted to be. They were here because they had a job to do and unfortunately, OKARI has chosen them to do it without failure. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly to prepare her words. “I agree. Most of us here probably know that they have a plan for us. However, with that in mind, OKARI won’t tell us all the details. Only the one’s that matter, to get whatever job it is done.” Anrie opened her eyes slowly, watching her fingers fidget and rearrange themselves on her lap. “My suggestion is to wait to see what they ask of us and then to act based on that.” She went silent, and raised her gaze to view the others with her calm exterior. The chatter had been better than this atrocity of a conversation, she mused.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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Francis watched the entire exchange with a mixture of something resembling mild amusement and surprise. Jane seemed to be on the verge of exasperation, her slender figure trembling with barely contained incredulity. Her long dark hair almost seemed to frizz with the outburst as her narrowed eyes fixated on Zahkar angrily. She stood forwards, slowly and deliberately bringing her face up to match Zahkar’s own impassive expression.

Despite his own self-evident amusement, Francis’ muscles tensed as he felt the conflict escalating to boiling point. His hazel eyes glared at the two, prepared to use his own power and break up the fight if necessary. He wasn’t overtly thrilled by the prospect of a duel between prototypes in an enclosed space such as the commons room. Not when six of them where packed in it, and especially not when it wasn't necessary. Zahkar looked sensible enough, but Jane, brimming with uncharacteristic fury, looked just about ready to start something.

By either pure luck or judgment, Anrie chose her moment to speak then. “I agree. Most of us here probably know that they have a plan for us. However, with that in mind, OKARI won’t tell us all the details. Only the one’s that matter, to get whatever job it is done.” Anrie spoke, her eyes opening to view her fingers fidget and rearrange themselves on her lap. “My suggestion is to wait to see what they ask of us and then to act based on that.” She finished and gazed at the rest in silent calm.

Jane seemed to recompose herself at the intrusion, her shoulders easing and releasing the tension which had perceptibly built up within her. Francis did likewise, leaning back into his seat as his hand hovered over the table. He ran his fingers across the cold surface in waves, playfully toying with his own imagination of how the team would work together. Jane’s reply to Zahkar was reminiscent of a petulant child’s, her response practically oozing from her lips with sharp cynicism. ”Maybe Francis is right, this is turning out to be the greatest pleasure, to make your acquaintance." She virtually hissed "So glad we're working together." At that, Jane faced her head away, sitting back down as if the matter was resolved.

“So glad somebody else agrees with me also” Francis teased lightly, perking up at the mention of his name.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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#, as written by slcam
Irene gave a small huff that almost sounded like a chuckle when 'Wash' called them 'Team Psi' like this was some sort of game. His not-so-inspiring inspirational speech was slightly irritating to Irene. What was the use of making light of their situation? It changed nothing. Though she wasn't totally opposed to small talk, it wasn't exactly easy for her. She would rather be silent, or at least talk about something more important. It seemed that Jane shared her feelings, and she angrily addressed them.

A moment later, Vein burst out laughing. It was a welcome distraction from the still rising tension. It seemed she always had something sarcastic to say, and it made Irene remeber something, or almost remember. It was really too fuzzy to be called a memory and more of a feeling of deja vu. She wondered what exactly it reminded her of, and was startled when Zakhar slapped his hands on the table next to her. Apparently what Jane said really irritated him. He motioned to the various cameras, scientists, and the guard that Irene had ignored. They were such a nartual part of her life that she never took notice of them anymore. They always did what seemed like the same thing and it was no use worrying about them here.

'They will kill you, hmmm?' she thought, noting the amused smile on his face. 'Tell us something we don't already know.' The tensions continued to grow, and Irene was concerned that a fight would start. It didn't help that she was right next to them either. She didn't even have anythng to defend herself with. Thankfully, Anrie's words seemed to calm Jane, and, with a few posonous words, she sat down again. Wash teased Jane and, though it seemed without any malice, Irene could only wonder how she would react. Vein then put in her opinion and Irene agreed somewhat, just not in the same words. Irene didn't feel there was much of use that she could say, so she again remained silent.

So far, this meeting was crazy. All Irene wanted was for someone to hurry up and tell them what they were supposed to do before things did blow up.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff
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“No, no, it was very good. Much better than I could’ve ever said” Francis said frankly, his lips forming an appreciative smile. He’d half waved resignedly as a form of gratitude towards her. Looking back at the rest as the situation settled peacefully, Francis expressed his relief with a heavy sigh before scratching his own chin. Vein did have a way with words; no doubt enhanced by her pure unbridled pride. Though cocky, it seemed she could be surprisingly serious at a moments call. A voice of reason was the perfect thing this situation could use anyway. As he looked back at Jane though, he wondered just how far reasoning would work with her.

If there were still any lingering feelings of anger in that room, they were immediately dispelled. Something heavy was being wheeled through the corridors and Francis stood to attention as the elderly man returned. His reappearance immediately brought up questions on the Betas but those enquiries where also banished instantly. Like the omnipresent monoliths erected in deserts, the black wardrobe rose through the centre of the room. It’s sparkling and polished surfaced invited their curiosity and attention. Francis felt his own body being drawn in by the promise of destruction, even if he already knew full well what that would mean for his future.

“My dear Psis, it seems the time to enjoy menial chatter is over. I only ask that you all go easy on me since we’ve become such good friends” Francis winked in jest as the pitch black doors swung open. He exhaled a low whistle, his eyes soaking in the impressive array of weapons held within. Guns, knives, blades, explosives, everything glistened, shiny, new and untouched. Mentally, he pictured the blades already dipped in blood before blinking away the conjured image as Zahkar stepped forwards. He raised an eyebrow of curiosity towards the red man as he claimed a dagger before returning to the tables. Zahkar kept spinning the blade deftly within his palms, leading Francis to ponder if it was some ritual of his with a shrug.

Stepping towards the wardrobe swiftly, Francis maintained a cheerful grin as he bent down and claimed a pair of sub-machine pistols. The Heckler & Koch MP7. Like the other weapons, it smelt of fresh polish and metallic lubrication. Its black surface was gleaming and endless, absorbing the white light of the commons room like a void. Virgin weapons eager to be christened in battle and blood, he thought with grim amusement. He offered a word of thanks to the assistant who handed him the belt before holstering the guns, his attention shifted back to the weapon racks. "One main weapon is fine, but it can't possibly address every situation. So...since i like to be best dressed.."

Meticulously, he then began withdrawing a multitude of knives and explosives. His arms worked like well oiled machines as he brought each item up for inspection before it disappeared once more in a pouched compartment. Francis' choice of explosives was excessive to the point where he looked prepared to blow up the entire compound. He stood back up and harrumphed, apparently satisfied as he inclined his head at the doctor. His voice became ever so slightly sinister as he spoke, his arms still laden with several explosives “I hope you don't mind me taking these also. Sorry for the wait” He commented before rejoining Zahkar by the table like a kid out of a candy shop.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff
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V E I N


At Wash's encouragement, she found herself miming his appreciative smile with her own friendly yet somehow challenging one. "Watch out: if you keep up with this flattery, I might start to think you fancy me." she chided, lighting a match, bringing it to her cigarette, and shaking it off again. There wasn't time for more chit chat because it was in that moment that the doctor had come back. "Well, looks like he's still among the living. That's good news. Wait, is that good news?" She had a hard time differentiating between the two. The man told them that they'd be training with one another for the rest of their time. She looked about the room. Perhaps she was the only one, but she actually kind of liked the Psis so far. They hadn't proved to be dull. After all, there had already almost been a fight. She almost looked forward to it, but she knew better than to do a foolish thing like that.

It didn't take Vein long to pick a weapon. As soon as the case had swung open she knew what she would be grabbing. She already had a weapon in herself, her body serving as both its own defense and offense - but there was a specific item that she knew she could really use well to add onto her preexisting strengths. Zak was first to snatch up his tools of trade.

She eyed him with skepticism, almost daring him to pick what she wanted, but he didn't, and she felt herself calm down again. She took a look at his weapon of choice and grinned, actually. It suited him. While she was busy smirking like an idiot at Zakhar, Wash had managed to go to the case before her. “My dear Psis, it seems the time to enjoy menial chatter is over. I only ask that you all go easy on me since we’ve become such good friends” he said. She made a mental note to do just the opposite- not out of bitterness or anger, but competitiveness. Wash took his time (for-fucking-ever) with grabbing his weapons, but he, too, seemed to leave her precious treasure be. She practically purred out of satisfaction.

Then, she pounced, snatching the thing she'd been eying this whole time.

A beautiful black whip with a sharp metal tip was now clutched in her hand. With that and that alone, she pranced back over to where Anrie, Zak, and Wash all sat and wedged herself in between them. While she didn't know it, her face was almost identical to the redhead's she sat next to, and they were both probably thinking just about the same thing. Fisticuff was her language. Even when she lost, there wasn't much she enjoyed more than a good test of strength. She didn't doubt that a few of these people could probably beat the living shit out of her if she was unlucky enough- took the wrong step, lost her balance for just a second, things of that nature. Was it strange that this made her all the more excited?

For once, Vein shut the fuck up, too wrapped up in her own quiet energy to be bothered with making sarcastic comments. She simply strategized and felt her blood pump thick through her veins as she puffed-puffed-puffed at the cigarette between those lips of hers.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman



Anrie took an observer’s stance for the duration of the time spent chatting. Overall, Jane had calmed herself and relaxed, mimicking the appearance of casual confidence that most of them exerted. Anrie eyed her then crossed her legs over with an inner chuckle. Jane seemed like a child in wolf’s clothing.

She blinked slowly, brow raising half an inch in slight surprise. Anrie hadn’t expected any of them to really say it but Vein got straight to the point. I don't see the harm in a little mingling, myself. What's the problem with making a few pals - one, or maybe five fuck buddies? Anrie almost blushed because that would have been inappropriate. Not only that, but being naked in from of the others? That would be dangerous and embarrassing. She crossed her arms, the only indication that she was slightly uncomfortable with the notion.

“OKARI wants us to play a game and, really, that's not the worst thing they could be doing to us. If I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure each and every one of us have spent some quality time with an operating table and- " Anrie nodded lightly. The cold operating table had become her closest friend other than the warm hand of Santaio. She had been her savior in a cruel time and she hoped to repay that. "Well, I'm getting carried away again. Point is, none of us are here by choice. Obviously. But if we play our cards right, we could have a little fun before the going gets tough." Vein stated, shrugging. Anrie mimicked the motion nonchalantly.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure everyone here understands that if we're told to, we will kill - each other if we have to. I doubt there will be many hard feelings. That's pretty much a pretense, right? Is that just me? Well, I guess there's a fair warning for you." Anrie’s eyes widened in shock before she raised a fisted hand to her lips and coughed quietly to cover up her surprise. "That's what we are. We're killers, no more, no less." She lowered the hand and glanced to look at the one-way glass. Vein was right. There was no changing that. Anrie sighed, not because she was bored, but because she knew that the future looked bleak.

Anrie flinched at a sound behind her but quickly covered it up. Just being around the others had already affected her and it was displeasing. She silently cursed and twisted to see the scientist from before. She observed the space behind him curiously wondering what had happened to the betas. Had they been sent to their death? She collected herself and stood to respect his entrance.

[i]"I hope you've become quite acquainted with your peers, as you'll be spending the majority of your time from now on training with them."
As he spoke, a large black wardrobe-like case was being wheeled out into the center of the commons and excitement jittered through her body as she heard the next words."I ask that you choose a weapon of your liking. Pick carefully. You will be using this specific device as your main hand weapon for the rest of your time at OKARI."

Anrie watched, as Zakhar was the first up. His weapon of choice intrigued her, as she too desired a blade. One of key strengths, Santaio had said, was her speed and agility. Her accuracy was good but not enough for a gun. Anrie waited for the next person up and noticed that Francis had taken this chance to go. Her hands fidgeted, her gaze roaming to look over the weapon that she could see on the top of the pile. Her attention broke as Vein stood and went over. Anrie watched her rustle throught the pile but it didn’t take her long. Vein picked up a whip and Anrie felt amusement bubble in her chest. It would be so like her to pick that.

When Vein returned, Anrie stepped out claiming the chance to get her weapon. She didn’t want last of the litter and she was anxious to find her perfect match. She stopped beside the cart and perused the top of the pile before shaking her head and pushing them aside, knowing just what to search for. When she found it, a small gasp escaped her lips.

It was exactly what she wanted. The blade looked sharper than anything she had ever seen before and the handle had black fabric wrapped in patterns for a good hold. She could tie a charm to the end and the length seemed just right. It wasn’t a katana but something shorter, although it had the same make. Carved into the blade she could see the words ‘Cluizel II’. Anrie found a suitable sheath and belt to match it after some digging and put it on her waist, the weight comfortable already. However she wasn’t done. If she had the chance to get weapons now she needed all she could get out of the opportunity. She rustled through the pile and found some throwing stars and a few knives, nothing compared to Zakhar’s daggers but good enough to damage when throwing. She slipped those into the belt and murmured a appreciative, “Thank you.”, to the man. She then strode back to the table. It had only taken her a few minutes but she waited for the next person to go as she turned her mind to taking inventory. The slight tug at the corner of her lips was unusual and barely noticed, only for someone especially observant to find, but it was a smile nevertheless.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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#, as written by slcam
At the sound of returning footsteps, only one pair, Irene looked to the door. A moment later, the same gruff scientist entered, cleared his throat to get their attention, and spoke. Irene raised an eyebrow when he mentioned that they were going to be training together from that point on. She wasn't surprised, and merely decided that Okari would do what Okari wanted to do. She had little problem with it either. She only hoped that this training would help them to mesh better as a team, though she didn't expect much. Vein was right when she said that, ultimately, they were all just killers. That was what they were trained to do, and Irene knew that she would kill whoever she was ordered to without hesitation. There was no displeasure at the thought, it was a simple fact.

Irene quickly glanced at the group of prototypes. It seemed they had a couple hot heads, an eternal optimist, a smart mouth, and a couple quiet ones, herself included. Out of all of them, the quiet, seemingly emotionless Anrie was the one who she was the most usure of out of the group. The others already showed a bit of their personalities, some of their tempers, but Anrie had given away little.

Irene's attention reverted to the large, black case that was being wheeled into the room. It was opened to reveal a large amount of varied weapons, all seeming brand new. Irene noted the weapons carefully until her eyes stopped on one particular one. It was a sniper rifle, similar to the one she had been training with, but it definitely had a few extra features. The design was sleek, plain, but it had a certain beauty nonetheless.

She watched as Zahkar quickly made his choice, an intricately decorated double-sided dagger. It was just another clue to this man, apparently was comfortable with close combat. Next was Wash, who chose sub-machine pistols and various other weapons. He certainly took his time, and Irene was surprised at the sheer amount of weaponry the man could place on his person. As soon as Wash was out of the way, Vein fairly pounced, snatching a whip without hesitation. A look of satisfaction was apparent on her face as she sat down and puffed on her cigarette. Anrie stepped forward next, picking out a katana-like blade. Irene noticed a small vestige of happiness on her face, and was intrigued that picking out a weapon had brought a definite emotion to her face, if a slight one.

As she stepped up to the case, Irene knew a similar expression to Anrie's was now on her face. A slight raise at the corner of her mouth, a certain twinkle in her eye as she gingerly picked up the rifle. Without further ado, she slung the strap over her shoulder and began looking for other things she could use. She picked up a long, durable looking dagger and was handed a belt that went with it. There was also a small pouch on the belt that she put ammunition and several explosives inside. Confidently, she walked back to the table, putting on the belt before sitting back at the table.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman
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Francis shuffled aside to make space as Vein’s seemingly buzzing figure squeezed itself in between Zahkar and he, interrupting his musings. He’d been observing Zahkar’s expression with a tingling sense of dread and discomfort. Even though the red haired man had inclined his head, hiding his features from his view, Francis could feel the quiet vibe of anticipation and excitement fixated in his actions. Francis’ own expression formed a delighted frown as he spotted a similar grin wrapped across Vein’s cheeks. The irritation from her competitiveness seemed to finally affect his being, causing him to shrug dismally before raising an eyebrow at her whip. “You guys are enjoying this alot” He commented whilst scratching the back of his head. “Though, I can’t tell if you’re all serious or not with those choice of weapons”

His head cocked to the side, Francis’ shoulders slackened comically as he spotted Anrie returning from the weapons rack, treasuring a sword in her hands. “However, since it seems so many of you enjoy close combat; I should have plenty of shields to hide behind when things get hairy” He grinned with mock humour. Francis’ eyes glanced over the final two members, clearly wondering if Irene and Jane's decisions would follow the same trend. Irene’s rifle of choice seemed to appease his curiosity however, causing him to release an inaudible sigh of relief as the woman returned to her seat silently.

At that point they were instructed to advance to the training room. Francis followed after Zahkar as he approached one of the awaiting female doctors, encouraging the woman to lead them to the VTS room. He chuckled lightly at him as Zahkar wrapped an arm around her, reminded of how he’d brought some of the Psis coffee earlier. They arrived in front of an unassuming door not long after. Hidden behind the wooden panel was a vast, empty void. Idly, Francis’ gaze reflected of the white panelled walls before being drawn to the centre of the domed roof. Like a diligent snail, the doctor retreated back to her control room, leaving Francis alone with Zahkar to ponder if OKARI had fixed the machine since he’d last heard of it.

He caught a frustrated sigh from the other man as he leant against a wall and in return smiled with amusement. “So friend, any theories on what we’ll fight?”