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Onyx

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a character in “Mythic”, as played by เชฝเซฎเซจฮฑ

Description

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    โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
    โ–ˆโ‹ฎCharacter Name Here
    โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

    ใ€Œ โ˜… โ QUOTE GOES HERE โž

    โ•ณ โ•ณ C O L O R โ•ณ โ•ณ ; 50927A ; 403030
    โ•ณ โ•ณ SONG โ•ณ โ•ณ โ•ณ ; song ; artist
    โ•ณ F A C E CLAIM โ•ณ ; name ; anime
    โ•ณ โ•ณ PLAYER โ•ณ โ•ณ ; username
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โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€
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โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€

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โ–บN A M Eโ—„
Answer
( Proโ€ขnounโ€ขciโ€ขation ; meaning )
( Proโ€ขnounโ€ขciโ€ขation ; meaning )


โ–บN I C K N A M Eโ—„
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โ–บA G Eโ—„
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โ–บG E N D E Rโ—„
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โ–บS E X U A L I T Yโ—„
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โ–บE T H N I C I T Yโ—„
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โ–บR O L Eโ—„
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โ–ˆ โ–ˆโ–ˆ โ–ˆโ–ˆ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ
__ โ› ๏ผท๏ผจ๏ผก๏ผด_ ๏ผฉ๏ผณ _๏ผฌ๏ผฉ๏ผฆ๏ผฅ__ ๏ผก๏ผฆ๏ผด๏ผฅ๏ผฒ__ ๏ผค๏ผฅ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผจ โœ _____ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€
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H E I G H T
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H A I R โ€ข C O L O R
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W E I G H T
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E Y E โ€ข C O L O R
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G E N E R A L โ€ข A P P E A R E N C E

Answer. At least a paragraph.



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P E R S O N A L I T Y
โ•ญโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฎ
โ†ชโœง TRAIT โœฆ TRAIT โœง TRAIT โœฆ โ†ฉ
TRAIT โœฆ TRAIT

โ•ฐโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ•ฏ

This is where a description of your character's personality goes. At least two paragraphs


โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€
โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข P R E F E R E N C E S โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข

โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€
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โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”X LOVEX โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”‘

You can write what your character likes in a more novel kind of style or do a list where it's
||LIKE|| Answer
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โ”•โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”™

โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”X HATEX โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”‘

You can write what your character likes in a more novel kind of style or do a list where it's
||]DISLIKE|| Answer
||]DISLIKE|| Answer
||]DISLIKE|| Answer

โ”•โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”™


โ†ณ IN PARTICULAR โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ–ˆ

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Q U I R K S ;
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S T R E N G T H S ;
||STRENGTH|| Answer
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W E A K N E S S E S ;
||WEAKNESS|| Answer
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F E A R S ;
||FEAR|| Answer
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โ–บP O W E R Sโ—„

Your character's powers are listed in the intro, but you can expand on them, especially detailing the strengths, weaknesses, and specific conditions of each ability.


โ–บW E A P O Nโ—„

Optional. This also doesn't have to be a weapon. It could be a special item that the Leader invented for your character to have. You can have up to three special items and two weapons, just as long as it's not too OP.



โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข B A C K G R O U N D โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข

โ–ˆ โ–ˆโ–ˆ โ–ˆโ–ˆ โ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆโ–ˆ
โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€โ–€ โ–€
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__F A M I L YNAME // AGE // RELATIONSHIP__
NAME // AGE // RELATIONSHIP__
โ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌโ–ฌ

__Biography goes here; at least two paragraphs.




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โ˜… โ˜… โ˜… โ˜… โ˜… โ˜…

Inspiration:
Scra, Maccotango
Creator:
Verix
Edited:
Starโ˜…Child
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Do Not Reuse Or Copy Without Permission


โ˜… โ˜… โ˜… โ˜… โ˜… โ˜…

So begins...

Onyx's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felix Alvarez Character Portrait: Lior Astraea Character Portrait: Pandora Character Portrait: Onyx Character Portrait: Ciel Beaumont Character Portrait: Ceridwen Maverick Character Portrait: Melantha Maverick

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A quake that rocked the large city in its entirety, a crack separating it down the middle, as if it meant to swallow each citizen whole. Pandora's Box had arrived quicker than expected, its disease and destruction leaving injury and misery in its wake. The city was awoken much too early, just an hour before sunrise, to the unfortunate event. The rumblings were not from the quake itself, but from the taller buildings collapsing into themselves, from cars spilling over into the gaping maws splitting the busy streets, from the screams of those who may never be found amongst the chaos and rubble.

To put it lightly, the situation was bad.

Lior awoke from a dreamless sleep to the sudden destruction. His quarters were on the bottom floor of the building, mostly out of his own choice to keep him from falling down the stairs on the nights his sleep-walking decided to act up, so he felt the girth of the impact. It rocketed through his feet, knocked him out of the desk chair he used as a bed more often than the actual one he had nearby, and sent a shockwave through his systems so violently that he almost feared there was something disrupting his systems. It was hard to tell how much time passed as he waited, unable to move from the floor, dust littering down from the floor's above, before the noise passed, before the rocking relaxed.

There was no time for a sigh of relief as he pushed himself to his feet and took a scan of the city from the window. It would've been better to take in the immensity of the damage done if he was looking at it from the top floor, but he would tend to that later. Even from his place on the bottom, he could tell that things were not well. To his surprise, but not to his relief, a crack had reached straight towards the building the Guardians used as their "base," as Lior would call it. It was like a clawed hand extending towards their throats, hoping to catch them in their sleep before the sun could even have the chance to rise, but it was just a few feet too short. The building, Lior could assume, would maintain its stability for the time being. They wouldn't need to evacuate.

Grabbing a few bottles of water from the fridge, Lior made the rounds of rushing from room to room, splashing water on those residing in the building: the others, the Guardians, the ones he'd rounded up and urged to remain together. It would be better that way. There was an importance in their existence and he truly believed that they would be weaker as individuals than as the group the Moon obviously wished them to be.

"The Box has arrived! We're heading out!"

He tried to keep himself from calling it "Pandora's Box" out of respect for the entity herself. He had a respect for her with only a vague suspicion against her at any moment in time. There was no reason to insult her by constantly insinuating it was her Box, or that she was the cause of the chaos infecting the Earth.

Those were his last words before he ran out himself, goggles over his eyes both to keep the dust out and to see clearly amongst it all. He felt rushed, but didn't run, only barely making an effort to make sure the others were following safely behind him. It never occurred to him to check their vitals, to make sure the damage hadn't spread to the upper floors, to make sure they were each in a stable condition, but there was an urgency here and they were meant to investigate it. There were priorities in order.

There was a feeling, a sense, a tug in the core of his being, possibly near the foreign magic fused within his very spirit given to him and the others by the Moon itself, and he felt urged to follow it. His goggle-clad eyes scanned the area, searching, but not for victims, not for people to save like they were meant to be doing, but for something. There was something out there and that tug told him they needed to reach it, that there wasn't time to waste on the innocent, not yet. Besides, a more negative part of him hissed, we're already too late. The Box had hit the city. Their city. The one they were meant to protect above all the others if only because it belonged to them, and when the time had came, just an hour prior, they'd already been too late to do what they were meant to do. There were other priorities.

There, amongst the rubble, Lior slowed his walk to catch sight of the one with an aura similar to the tugging within his soul. He wondered if the others could feel it too. Except it was wrong, darker, repulsive rather than inviting like the Guardians were.

That man. That man, the one they'd seen only a few other times before, he laid amongst the rubble. Immobile. Stiff. Breathing. Eyes closed.

Although he hadn't looked back since he'd left the base, Lior crouched down by the man with a frown and spoke for someone over his shoulder to hear, as if he expected the others to be there. "We're going to take him."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felix Alvarez Character Portrait: Lior Astraea Character Portrait: Pandora Character Portrait: Onyx Character Portrait: Aura Hope Character Portrait: Ciel Beaumont Character Portrait: Ceridwen Maverick Character Portrait: Melantha Maverick

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She should have been asleep; she should have been asleep and lost to the whimsical realm of dreams as most sane individuals were at that time. Those who would awaken at that time would call it โ€œearly morningโ€, and those who would just be stepping into bed would call it โ€œlate nightโ€. Ceridwen, however, she never knew what to call it herself. There were times where sheโ€™d have long been asleep at this time, but there were others where she would be slipping under the covers of her bed just as the sun peaked above the horizon and hailed the coming of a new day. This time to her was merely just another part of the day, another part of the week, and another part of her newfound life. She was doing what she did from time-to-time, staying up till she could no longer bear to keep her eyes open, all so that she could keep up with her self-appointed duties.

Barely, could she recall anything from more than a year prior, she was told she had what was called โ€œretrograde amnesiaโ€ after sheโ€™d been recovered from a kidnapping that she did not remember a bit of. It was when she was in the hospital, recovering, that sheโ€™d been collected by her leader, Lior Astraea, and officially inducted into the Guardiansโ€”an organization she knew nothing of, and nothing about, just as she knew nothing of her life from before waking up in that stark room. Sheโ€™d had to have even the fact that she possessed powers explained to her as well, as well as why before anything made even the slightest bit of sense to her back then.

Yet, here she was a year later, living among and with the Guardians under Liorโ€™s command, herself having leapt into it without so much as batting an eyelash. Perhaps it was because she had amnesia, but Ceridwen had quickly appointed herself the unofficial, official caretaker of the group and settled into the self-appointed role with no friction. She was the one who prepared the meals, made sure the kitchen was stocked; she was the one who did the laundry, she made sure everyone else got proper sleep, and made sure everyone was keeping up with proper bathing habits and hygiene. . . . When it was that the Guardians were at their base, she acted this part to everyone, quickly having grown to care for them all like family.

Her self-appointed caretaking task was what kept her up to this point in the night/morning, she was keeping up with the groupโ€™s laundry, making sure it was washed and dried without a complaint, and even a goofy, little smile on her face.

Besides any and all noises sheโ€™d been making, the night had been quiet, and Ceridwen had expected it to remain that way. Of course, things never have a tendency to stay calm.

Ceridwen had been on the third floor of the building when the quake beganโ€”she had been putting clothing away when the Earth began to quiver and protest below; hastily beginning a terrestrial temper tantrum, a violent one at that. There was no warning beyond a secondโ€™s notice before the Earth began to quake to and fro, knocking little Ceridwen right off her feet and to the floor. A cry came from her lungs as she hit the floor with a none too pleasant sounding thud, the clothing sheโ€™d been handling scattering. She knew sheโ€™d smacked her head when she fell, sheโ€™d felt the surge of pain whip through her skull without mercy as she was forced to remain where she lay for the entirety of the Earthโ€™s tantrum; she didnโ€™t have time yet to tend to or worry about it.

Stiff as a board there on the floor, Ceridwen remained there on her side, her face scrunched up into a most unpleasant expression as she involuntarily braced herself against the fierce tremors that ran through the building. She could feel the structure move with and against the Earthโ€™s shaking, dust and small debris lightly coating her exposed body from the ceiling above. Off in the distance, far outside the bounds of the building, Ceridwen could hear things. Car alarms going off, buildings collapsing upon themselves . . . people shouting and screams, explosions, no doubt from gas lines being unearthed and ripped apart so unexpectedly.

It wasnโ€™t until the vibrations subsided that Ceridwen realized that she had held her breath through the whole of the experience, she deeply gasped in the aftermath of it, as the buildingโ€™s structure caught up to the calm that had returned. For a moment, she remained lying where she was, her eyes having opened wide, her mind resetting itself from the shock of the quake, as it tried to make some semblance of sense of the situation and what had happened. Her breaths came deep and uncertain, while it was Ceridwen could feel her fleeting and crazed heartbeats throughout her body, the sound of blood rushing through her veins overtook her sense of hearing as she heard each flush of blood. Quickly, she sat up, unable to contain a round of coughs that came through her from having inhaled trivial amounts of dust.

It took a moment for her to calm her breathing and body, but as soon as she was settled, she was up and onto her feet, aimlessly walking toward a window. . . . Her small fingers made contact with the sill, as she all but pressed her nose against the still intact glass and looked out into the world with her eyes wide, breathless again. The sight before her was a most unpleasant one, as to be expected. The city . . . our city. Was in shambles. Ceridwenโ€™s hands formed into small fists, the bones in them visible to the naked eye they were clenched so tight. Her brow furrowed, and her mouth became only a thin line on her pallor face. The quake had turned their city into a disaster. People are hurt, and definitely . . . definitely dead.
The Guardians had gotten lucky for the moment, their building remained intact and upright it seemed, if any of them were injured, sheโ€™d ensure their wellbeing as she always did and would. Sheโ€™d do what she could and always did for anyone who needed her help. . . .

It was at that moment that Ceridwen felt a trickle of blood run down the side of her face, cutting a silver streak through the white dust on her cheek as it dribbled down her jaw and onto the neckline of her white shirt. Her hand loosened, and her fingers trailed up her face, following the path of the silvery liquid up to a point beyond her hairline. Sheโ€™d hit her head before when sheโ€™d fallen. . . . Remembering this, a dull throb encompassed Ceridwenโ€™s skull as her fingers made contact with the bleeding injury hidden by her hair. She blinked a few times before she retracted her fingers from the wound, looking at the silver blood on her fingertips. The wound throbbed with each and every heartbeat of hers.

It didnโ€™t matter, it hurt but it didnโ€™t matter. Sheโ€™d heal like she always did. Without thinking about it, Ceridwen wiped the still-flowing blood from her face with the sleeve of her shirt; there were more important things to worry about than a small head injury on herself.

Ceridwen was already turned on her heels, and heading out the doorway of the room when she heard Lior call out, โ€œThe box has arrived! Weโ€™re heading out!โ€ a pang of relief shot through Ceridwen at hearing him, at least he was okay, but that relief was replaced with the utmost dread and seriousness as the reality of Liorโ€™s words hit her. The Box. The Box. The foci and reason behind all that was now wrong with the world, all the disaster, the plague and famine, the deaths of so many . . . it was here? Was that what caused the earthquake to strike their city?

Despite being a Guardian, despite living among them and with them for a year, doing what they were supposed to doโ€”help people, protect people and use their powers for the wellbeing of others. . . . This whole time, sheโ€™d more or less been playing follow-the-leader. Sheโ€™d been doing what she was told, following a sense of morality chiseled into her from a place she didnโ€™t know. She didnโ€™t really comprehend the reality or the truth of everything that was happening. Itโ€™d been explained to her time and time again, and while she understood the basics, the weight of it never had set in upon her. . . . Even now, thatโ€™s how she still was. Even with hearing Lior say the box was apparently here, that it had arrived in home territory, the full brunt of it still wasnโ€™t on her. After all, she had no memory from before a year ago, she didnโ€™t remember when the Box had first been opened and all the disasters that had followed in its wake. She didnโ€™t remember how the world was before.

Perhaps that was a weakness in her, the fact that she didnโ€™t remember the world as it was before the Box. She didnโ€™t remember the peace she was supposed to be fighting for, no matter what she was told, what she was shown, she didnโ€™t remember an Earth that wasnโ€™t constantly dilapidated and mostly peaceful. All she knew was the here and now. What she protected and fought for wasnโ€™t a world she didnโ€™t remember. She fought for and protected what she knew and cherished nowโ€”Lior and the Guardians whom she considered her family.

Even if the Box really had arrived on their doorstep, it didnโ€™t really change or mean much for Ceridwen. No, instead, it felt like Guardian business as usual to her even if it was perhaps the most urgent and serious issue theyโ€™d faced in the last year or so. She still felt the weight of the words and reality upon her, but maybe not as much as she should have. She was following the leader again.

So it was, she followed behind Lior as she heard the clamor of the other Guardians following suit. Ceridwen was down to the ground floor in a matter of seconds, the first to follow behind Lior as they hit the damaged and devastated city beyond their base. Lior paused only for the briefest of moments to place his goggles over his eyes. Ceridwen had nothing to protect her eyes from the settling dust, smoke and debris, so simply sheโ€™d have to bear with it for the moment. Out in the distance, her ears could pick up the wailing of sirens, car alarms which were still going off, and . . . and people crying out. The city was a disaster area, to say the least. The earth had torn itself apart during its tantrum, cracks and fissures were common to now seen among the cement and pavement. Debris from collapsed buildings was beginning to settle while it was smoke from fires began to rise, obscuring the now rising sun and tainting the sky.

She could only squint against it all, her bare eyes watering. I already know that if the Box is here, weโ€™re not out yet to help anyone. Weโ€™re out here to do a search and reconnaissance for it or any other entities.
Ceridwen knew this much. She wanted to help those people injured or trapped by the quake, but she knew that if there were any potential nasties running amok in the wake of this disaster, if the Box really was upon them, they needed to make that their first priority.

A trickle of blood still flowed down the side of her face, but already, Ceridwen could feel the dull throb from the injury receding and lessening. It was healing despite still bleeding. . . . When Lior was on the move again after adjusting his goggles, Ceridwen was following suit. To at least protect her lungs and respiratory tract from the all the pollutants in the air, Ceridwen brought one of her long sleeves up and over her mouth, breathing through the material in order to filter some of the foreign particles from the air. It helped a bit.

While it was she moved, something began to stir within Ceridwen. A strange sort of, sort of sense she didnโ€™t quite understand nor know how to explain. It felt like someone was whispering inaudible words to her, words and phrases that were meant to urge her on, to make her search for something. What that something was, Ceridwen hadnโ€™t the faintest clue. Instead of heeding that urge, she continued to follow after Lior, moving to and fro, over and under debris and rubble, squinting through the murky air. She didnโ€™t think, she only followed, like she always did after him. . . . And, she stopped when it was he did as well. He came to a halt, peering around the area; Ceridwen knew he was searching for something with his goggles.

She moved when he did, and followed him till it was that she saw what he saw as well. A man, lying amongst the rubble and debris, and merely the sight of his vague silhouette through the murky air was enough to send a shiver of uncertainty and angst through Ceridwenโ€™s body. There was something about him that was as dark as it was sad. It marred his aura, an aura Ceridwen could feel as clear as day. It was heavy, weighted and simply so negative. While Lior moved toward him, Ceridwen remained where it was she stood for a moment, where it was her eyes first came upon the silhouette. I . . . his aura is so heavy that I almost feel like I canโ€™t breathe. Itโ€™s dark and full of so much pessimism? It was true, the weight of the manโ€™s mere aura was enough to make Ceridwen feel like she couldnโ€™t breathe wellโ€”and for as dark as his energy was, it felt oddly familiar to Ceridwen. And without warning, Ceridwen heard one of those inaudible whispers again, suddenly as if it were speaking right into her mind, it became clear and she knew who it was before her and the Guardians.

โ€œThe Man of Darkness. . . .โ€ the voice spoke, almost sounding like a hiss to her. The Man of Darkness, he who opened the Box and brought disaster upon the world, and he who was supposedly responsible for her own, personal memory loss. Ceridwen had been filled in on the sparse detailsโ€”that sheโ€™d gone missing for upwards of two months, apparently in the custody of the Man of Darkness for that entire time. However many time she was told this though, she had no memories of the event, of the months apparently sheโ€™d been in his company. And because her memories vanished after she was recovered from him, left to be found with him gone, it was assumed that the Man of Darkness was responsible for her forgetting her entire life prior.

Even with the weight of the Manโ€™s aura upon Ceridwen, making breathing a task, she still stepped forward and stopped just behind Lior, the closer she got to the man though, it became that much more of a chore for her to even fill her lungs with the dusty air. The sheer heavy, negative energy given off by the Man of Darkness weighted upon her in every way. She was always told she was sensitive. . . . Ceridwen took in his overall appearance as she remained quiet. His hair was dark, his skin was as white as paper and he had green markings on his faceโ€”he was rigid and unmoving at the moment, his eyes shut hard. If it hadnโ€™t been for the faint rising and dropping of his chest, it could well have looked like he was dead. Despite whom he was, Ceridwen couldnโ€™t help the thought of, I wonder if heโ€™s injured, or hurt. . . . from bubbling up in her head. Considering whom the Man of Darkness was, she knew that was the last thing she ought to be thinking, but even still, she was unable to ignore her own nature, even if she knew well enough not to say such things out loud.

โ€œWeโ€™re going to take him.โ€ Lior spoke, and this broke Ceridwen of her stillness and near-trance. She blinked a few times, still struggling to breathe a bit, and looked down at him, curiously. They were going to take him, the Man of Darkness, into their custody? Ceridwenโ€™s head tilted to the side, and her brow furrowed a bitโ€”she could feel the crust of dried blood thatโ€™d matted to her forehead and bangs begin to tear in doing so. What exactly were they going to do with him? How were they going to keep him, where were they going to keep him? Even if Ceridwen didnโ€™t really grasp the full reality of everything that had to do with the Guardians, even she couldnโ€™t help the plethora of questions.

โ€œAnd . . . what are we going to do with him, Lior? I mean, like, if he wakes upโ€”couldnโ€™t he hurt one of us or something? Or, are we supposed to . . . keep him knocked out?โ€ she asked with genuine curiosity in her voice. Really, WHAT were they supposed to do with him. If they werenโ€™t supposed to outright . . . kill him. What were they to do with the Man of Darkness if they took him into their custody. Ceridwen stared at Lior for an answer.