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Thorn

"Morning, Meatpuppets."

0 · 266 views · located in The Labyrinth

a character in “Spitting Out the Demons: A Selfish Gene”, as played by VitaminHeart

Description

Name: Thorn Mason
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Reason for admittance: De-generative Lung Condition
Time in Labyrinth before mutations: Three months.

Appearance: (Image pending! Stay tuned!) Thorn resembles a tall, long limbed young man of around twenty years of age, most of his form obscured by a long, dark brown trenchcoat, fastened at the front. A thick, dark red scarf made of wool is wrapped around his neck. He appears to wear heavy boots and thick, heavy duty gloves, the edges of both seeming to disappear up his voluminous sleeves. His hair is a pale hue, and hangs long, down past his shoulders. He appears pale...though that is rather expected after months in the locked-down building. His face has high cheekbones and a thin nose, seeming oval in shape and quite sharp in features.

Mutations: The true extend of Thorn's mutations are unclear. As he has been out of stasis for the entire duration of the lockdown, it has been progressing for several months, though much of his body is covered up, making his appearance hard to figure out . A few mutations are immediately noticeable. His eyes appear a vivid yellow colour, and seem to emit a disturbing, bioluminescent glow when he is cast in shadow. His teeth appear extremely sharp, sharped more like those of a predatory animal than those of a human. He can move with unnatural speed and agility.


Skills:

-Thorn's alterations have given him incredible speed and athletic prowess. He is able to jump and climb with a surprising skill and aptitude, allowing him to reach areas that are inaccessible to others.



Weaknesses:

-Thorn's not especially strong compared to some of the other creatures that roam Labyrinth, and means that he has to rely on his speed and his wits in order to stay out of the way of the more dangerous inhabitants.

-Thorn is extremely light, something that means he's easily displaced and thrown around.

Personality:

Thorn was always a fairly enigmatic sort, even before the mutations. He was friendly enough, quick-witted and very intelligent, though he rarely relayed much about his personal life, or made much attempt to help other individuals.

Post-mutation, Thorn comes across as even more of an unknown quantity. He is smart, capable, and appears to have a decent understanding of what is happening...as well as a good idea of the complex. At the same time he comes across as a little unreliable. His main instinct is self-preservation, and he is reluctant to put himself in harm's way. While Thorn apparently has a vested interest in guiding the other subjects, it is not a cause that he is over-attached to, and he is happy to abandon it when things get tough.

There is a considerable impression that Thorn knows a lot more than he is letting on. He seems a little too comfortable in the hazardous surroundings, something that begs quite a few questions about his nature.


History: Thorn was admitted a few months before the outbreak of the mutations. He had suffered from the condition most of his life, though much of the time if had not proved severe enough to disrupt him living a normal life. He was admitted when it became clear that the illness would be terminal, but hadn't reached a point that he was severely ill. As a result, after the injection of the protein, Thorn regenerated very quickly, within a few weeks. He also began to change quite quickly as the mutations began.

Turned down for admittance into status with the less 'damaged' subjects, he set out for the maintenance level, where there weren't too many people, and therefore putting himself out of harm's way. From there he faded into comparative obscurity for several months. He left a set of notes in the stasis room in order to guide the subjects upon their release.

So begins...

Thorn's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Flint Walker Character Portrait: Devin H. Peterson Character Portrait: Cassie Throme Character Portrait: Careen Spurling Character Portrait: William 'Will' Silvaro Character Portrait: Thorn
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Flint was so irritated he could barely stand it. Irritated at the situation he was in, the strangers around him, and that disturbing aura he had felt in this room from the moment he had woken up. Something was not right here at all. It was as though he was being watched, like even the walls themselves were eyeing him. He was tense and paranoid and angry and he just wanted to go home.

And here I am, stood like a lemon doing absolutely nothing. Useless.

He felt himself getting more and more worked up until he thought he was just going to explode. The noises in the room became quiet and far away.

He didnā€™t realise he had been actually moving until he almost collided with someone. He was ecstatic for a moment, having finally been able to walk, even if it was induced by his anger. Then the person spoke, presumably to the whole group, and Flint was in a foul mood all over again.

Storageā€¦ Is that what this is?

Flint was suspicious immediately. This guy seemed like he knew a lot about this place; almost too much. He seemed perfectly comfortable with his surroundings, as if this was just a daily occurrence for him. And his eyesā€¦ they glowed. They actually glowed. How long had he been here?

How long had they been here, asleep in ā€˜storageā€™? None of it made sense and he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration at how little he could remember.

The man seemed to know what he was doing though, and if Flint wanted a way out then this was probably it. It was an easy decision to make to follow himā€¦ At least for now. It wouldnā€™t hurt to ask a couple of questions though.

ā€œHow can we trust you?ā€ Flint glared sceptically at the man. ā€œYou could be one of those ā€˜nastiesā€™ or whatever they are, just leading us into a trap.ā€ He folded his arms, huffing out a breath of annoyance. ā€œWhat reason could you possibly have to help us?ā€

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Careen Spurling Character Portrait: William 'Will' Silvaro Character Portrait: Thorn Character Portrait: Jynx Collins
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#, as written by Last
Careen had been nodding along with the man's every word. "I'm ready to go. There were some notes, she has them right now," she gestured to the fair ink-haired lady next to the wall, "I think he wrote them." She gazed back at his strange, iridescent eyes, then turned back to the strong, composed gentleman. "If he's back to warn us again, we're probably running out of time."
Her hand began to tremble and Careen quickly captured her wrist with the other hand and bit her lip. The panic was beginning to rise and she had to submerge it as best she could. It was like a frightening prelude that would soon swell into a cacophony of terror. She had to stymie the musicomania as much as possible, before it took her over and sent her body into shock. She surmised she had; roughly four hours.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devin H. Peterson Character Portrait: Cassie Throme Character Portrait: Careen Spurling Character Portrait: William 'Will' Silvaro Character Portrait: Thorn Character Portrait: Aries
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Cassie Throme



The man answered in affirmation, but somehow, Cassie was just unable to untangle her extremely sore legs in time. With an extreme effort, she drew her legs beneath her until she was kneeing inside her coffin. Just gathering up her strength, she pushed herself upwards, in time to hear a choked off cry.

Cassie lost her balance, and settled back on her knees. Looking around to see who had made the sound, and saw someone holding the palms in front of his face, and seeming to be looking terrified. She, out of impulse, placed her own hands in front of her face, and ever so carefully, gingerly, touched her face again. It must be some type of fluke - she hadnā€™t been able to feel for a while, so her senses were acting up.

To no avail.

Her fingers touched putty, and she drew them away in disgust again. Cassieā€™s attention was further diverted from the matter when a voice spoke. One that she hadnā€™t heard before. ā€œHey! Over here! Her eyes travelled throughout the room, before settling on the yellow glowing objects - were those the source of the sound? They seemed to be almost likeā€¦ eyes, but she had never seen eyes that were that particular shade. ā€œI would not be standing around here if I were you. The storage floor is comparatively deserted, but you still get a good few nasties running around this level that would hesitate to turn you into lunch.ā€ The onslaught of terror that came from that matter-of-fact statement propelled Cassie out of her kneeling position, and before she knew it, she was standing on the ground, legs slightly trembling from the exertion. The voice continued. ā€œYour best bet is to get up to the accommodation floor. Then youā€™ll mostly only have Palmira to worry about. You hang around storage too long someoneā€™ll creep up on you. At least one of them are going to be on their way right nowā€¦ you all better get yourselves together.ā€

Cassie walked, half-limped, over closer to the voice. She had to ask it exactly what was going on with her, and felt her flesh moveā€¦ almost jiggle. She stopped in her tracks when the man from before spoke. ā€œHow can we trust you? You could be one of those ā€˜nastiesā€™ or whatever they are, just leading us into a trap. What reason could you possibly have to help us?ā€

Some other male spoke again, but out of sheer impatience, Cassie focused primarily on the moving from her ā€¦ coffin to the strange glowing eyes. She only caught a few words of what he was saying, but to her mind, they made no sense without the context of all his words. Things like ā€˜tutorialā€™ and ā€˜start menuā€™. If she didnā€™t know better, Cassie would have assumed that perhaps this was a game - but no game could ever capture the feeling ofā€¦ her own skin.

ā€œIf I might make a suggestionā€¦ā€ interjected yet another person. Cassie, once again, tuned them out, but when catching a word that caught her attention, paid full attention to what he had to say. Maybe he knew what had happened - ā€¦ because despite all of her attempts, Cassie could not remember a single event in her near pastā€¦ She could remember her friends and their faces, but how had she ended up in such a predicament. ā€œhelp? I think if we stick together and help one another along, we can get out of here and find some answers, what do you all think?ā€

She opened her mouth to add her own opinion, but then, remembering the horrible voice that had spilt out, thought better of it, and listened to the female. ā€œIā€™m ready to go. There were some notes, she has them right now. I think he wrote them. If heā€™s back to warn us again, weā€™re probably running out of time.ā€ Cassie narrowed her eyes, the movement feeling fluid, before directing her attention to the papers that the black-haired woman was holding. She wondered what they said, but, as traveling was so difficult, decided that perhaps she would figure out their contents in the future.

Dredging up the deepest extent of her courage, she opened her voice to speak. This time, her voice was different again - raspy like a catā€™s sandpaper tongue. She meant to say something inspiring, something that would empower everyone else next to her, but what came out was a single question. ā€œIs this real?ā€ Her eyes darted around the room, with her mind unable to stop the barrage of terror. Two deep breaths later, her startled state was exchanged for a facade of calm. ā€œWeā€™re going to get eaten, arenā€™t we?ā€ she suddenly stated. She wasnā€™t an actress for nothing. ā€œWell, if you people want to struggle for your survival, donā€™t count me out. What better way to die than to go out with a bang?ā€