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Taron Credence Ilyin

Thunder may sound a warning, but it's too late for the lightning.

0 · 482 views · located in The Birdcage

a character in “Hazardous”, as played by listentothetimpani

Description

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xxxTARON CREDENCE ILLYIN xxx // xxx s p a r k xxxxx



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n i c k n a m e s x // x sparky , kid


a g e x // x10 (ish)


g e n d e r x // xmale


o r i g i n x // xborn somewhere in eastern europe (in a hospital? or safe-house? unknown... he lacks a true birth certificate); of welsh & russian descent


# 3 8 8 E 8 E


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E L E C T R I C I T Y • M A N I P U L A T I O N

Taron is able to generate his own electricity, through his bodies’ electrolytic blood that possesses cells with high concentrations of electrolytes and ions; allowing him to transfer and redirect his own electrical energy from small sparks to stunning bolts to powerful surges that kill. It is implied that even in his terrible twos / threes he could manipulate existing sources of electricity, causing major blackouts and leveling city power grids at his mother’s request (or shocking temper tantrum). However, he lacks the age, training, and proper finesse at this time to do much more than powerful electric blasts that are generally big, unstable, and uncontrollable.

Taron is not usually harmed by the currents he creates, but the brain is not meant to handle the excessive unused raw energy vibrating inside him; leading to terrible bloody noses and headaches bad enough to make him pass out unless he lets off a little steam, in turn it implies the potential for some psychological issues. Although he can shock himself if he attempt to generate under unfavorable circumstances (like being wet turns his ability against him), and has burnt / blackened his hands + feet on more than a few occasions. He craves foods high in electrolytes to replenish the loss during generating, especially anything sweet or salty.

In theory, Taron could likely manipulate lightning from meteorological phenomena if given the opportunity.


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P E R S O N A L I T Y

xxxxxxxxxx touchy xx cautious xx awkward xx dangerous x


His mother had always said that a man or woman could be fairly judged by the quality of their allies and that of their enemies...

Taron is a rather quiet and reserved individual. He’s very awkward around new people, and thus doesn’t really talk much – seemingly putting off the air of being all-around un-friendly. Part of the blame could be placed on his underdeveloped socio-behavioral skills, to say the least, as he was raised in a captive environment and isolated from human contact from a very young age. However to call him a feral child would not be an understatement per say, but more of a half-truth. His mother did her best before her passing, and he had enough experience of human care, behavior, and language to be considered an acceptable youthful member of society – and where he’s lacking, he’s clever enough to figure things out once given the opportunity to try. Yet he lacks the heavy dependency issues evident in most other “wild” children, that could make one susceptible to those posing as confidants or parental figures; instead Taron is incredibly slow to trust, and highly observant of personal space. Another argument could be made when he never has much to say or when speaking in a detached, laconic manner – expressing himself in the shortest way possible, with very little emotion. He is either stressing being efficient, or lengthy conversations take too much time + effort, or… He doesn’t know much more. Regardless, in is apparent he’s much more comfortable listening to others talk for hours, but is more of a passive participant himself.

Taron is easily bored. You could say unstable emotionally, slightly off kilter; an overactive child (b/c tbh he is still very much a child); or the electricity thrumming through his veins begging for release. He doesn’t sit still well, wants to be constantly on the move or doing something. He is especially prone to hand-fidgeting, tapping fingers, and twiddling with things when forced to remain ‘still’, or when anxious + nervous. It is common for his powers to fluctuate with his emotions and thoughts, and when there isn’t a low white-noise of snaps, crackles, and pops – he’s either feeling tension and withdrawing mentally, or about to discharge something major.

Taron could be considered vengefully courageous as the story progress, because he now has something he can lose -- Freedom -- something he’s never experienced that he can remember. He does not value rules of the establishment; chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forged them.




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B A C K S T O R Y


His Mother, Purity (Eos Illyin) had a habit of burning out the impure of Mundane and Supers alike, and given her limited morality and combustible abilities was a perfect assassin for hire. Accidents and fleeting young love, however, took a toll on her infamous record when she brought her son into the world. Purity had to become more cautious and withdrawn from her former trade, ferrying around a toddler that could at a simple request from herself level city power grids (especially hospitals, being they were the perfect mark for supplies and food while on the run) to killing others in their way; and his temper tantrums could be shocking to say the least. The survivors and ghosts of their combined pasts eventually caught up with the two, and Taron became the youngest resident of the Bird Cage; in part due to the terms of Purity’s own “surrender” that her sentence not being so solitary, and Taron wasn’t so innocent himself with the use of his own abilities… The situation created a rough sort of contentment as Purity was able to raise her son as best as one could (entirely dependent on what ‘supplies’ past food and water they were allowed) in solitary confinement. One ordinary day during the 8 years, Taron woke to find his Mother had died sometime in the night without any real rhyme or reason – such things like that happened from time to time. It was statistically easier to leave him where he was, then make any attempt to tame the boy + give him the potential for a successful life outside of prison; thus Taron has been growing up relatively alone (unaware of the 5 other inmates nearby in the facility), emotionally and physically behind most other children his age. Taron is at a fairly malleable age, potentially easily changeable by the party he’s attached to – literally by ball and chains; but paired with a vengeful and ready to make his mark attitude, he might prove to be a fair handful at times.


x f a c e c l a i m x // x jacob tremblay x // x c r e a t o r x // x listentothetimpani x // x c s x // x Scar.-

So begins...

Taron Credence Ilyin's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Taron Credence Ilyin Character Portrait: Sabrina Looker Character Portrait: Misery Jones Character Portrait: Chas Loren
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ImageThe last thing Misery remembered was a brown smoke seeping in through the vents in her cells ceiling. The cells in Birdcage were big enough that they never had to risk moving the inmates around of giving them any ‘yard time’. Which was understandable, Misery had always used yard time to escape, or maim other inmates. In the Birdcage she hadn’t even know who her other inmates were. Though some days you could hear screams of fury through the thick walls. The only sign in eight years that she wasn’t alone in there.

The food would appear three times daily like clockwork, dropping from the ceiling in a tightly sealed paper box. Gross, dry food that didn’t require refrigeration of preparation. Food that sustained life, but could hardly be considered a luxury.
Now everything was dark, a rocking motion and jostling brought her back to the present. Misery’s vision was blurry and her extremities tingled. Where was she? What happened? She could hear metallic clinking and as her eyes sight sharpened up she could make out shapes from the light filtering in.

As her brain started engaging and her senses started coming back to her, she realised she was in the back of an armoured van, the walls being clearly reinforced as all outside sounds were dulled. Hence the jostling as the van drove over a presumably bumpy, rural road. She tried moving her hands, but they were attached to a heavy chain, the other end of which was tightened around the wrists of a small child. The other occupants of the van were equally chained up, and were either still out cold or drifting into consciousness like her.

There was a dulled thump, and Misery was thrown from the bench as the Van rocked violently before all the jostling and rocking stopped. She could hear people yelling outside the van, though the reinforced nature of the walls dulled the words. She frowned, still feeling blurry and a bit off. She tried to get up at head to the door at the back, but the chains pulled her back.

She jerked chain hard to pull the boy with her. “We need to get out of here.” Her voice was quiet and croaky, whatever shit they had gassed her with was clearly still in her system. But she was present enough to at least realise whatever was happening outside, this was her chance. She put her palms up to the door and blasted cold at it, causing frost to climb up the door and coat it. Super-freezing the metal, and hopefully making it brittle.

She kicked at the door with her feet. Still bare-foot and dressed in yellow overalls, as was the inmate uniform in the Birdcage. She rammed it with her shoulder and felt it give a little. “This is our chance.” She said with a hoarse voice, hoping that her fellow inmates had a way of getting out, or at least more core strength than her.



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Taron Credence Ilyin Character Portrait: Sabrina Looker Character Portrait: Misery Jones Character Portrait: Chas Loren
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Flame felt like shit. The last thing she remembered was doing push-ups in her cell. She didn’t remember anything after that. Her eyes fluttered open but closed a second later. From what she saw, she knew she wasn’t in her cell. Currently her heart was pounding, she felt nausea, and she felt like she was burning up. The sound of metallic clinking irritated her. What the hell is that sound? She was curious, but her body felt heavy. Her eyes only opened when she rocked off the bench. Anger warmed her blood.

Lucky for her, she was able to stay on her feet. Her ever changing green eyes took in her soundings. She ended up staring at her chains. She wasn’t happy that she was attached to a young man. Her unhappiness grew when she saw he was attached to a child. To make it worst, the child was attached to a bald woman. Flame’s own hair was loose and out. She stayed stilled as she tried to listen to the yelling. Flame wasn’t sure if she couldn’t make the words out because she was in the vehicle or because she felt drugged. Her eyes went to Egg, the bald woman, as she went to the door. A small smile graced her lips. Where does she think she is going? Did she forget about the chains?

Despite wanting to make a joke at Egg’s expense, she stood fully to her height of 5’1”. Flame changed the woman’s nickname to Frosty when she saw her blast the door. She got as close to the door as she could while being chained. Once Frosty wasn’t touching the door, Flame took a slow and deep breath. When Frosty finished speaking, she blasted the door with blue flames. She closed her eyes for a second as the heat radiated off the door. It felt nice. She thought she heard the door crack or creak a bit. Flame was not sure. She was sure when her vision blurred. She had made the flames extra hot and it took a good chunk out of her. She wouldn’t be blasting anything else any time soon. The metal touching her skin felt hot, but she did not mind. She wondered if the man's chains got warm or even hot.

She yanked her chains hard, so she could walk closer to the door. Flame leaned forwarded to feel the heat fade quicker than it should have from the door. She frowned a bit and could imagine what the weather was like outside. May as well try my strength out. I have been just exercising since being locked up. "If you see guards, attack…unless you want to end up locked up again. Also, if everyone else doesn’t help with this door, we may as well take a seat," she said.

“Three…two…” she paused as she braced herself for what she was about to do, “One!” She flung herself forward to push door. Flame just hoped the others went to do the same. She didn’t really feel like getting jerked back, especially if the man next to her stayed still. Maybe she’d burn his face off if he decided to stay in his spot.