
「Well I was dead when I woke up this morning / And I'll be dead before the day is done 」
- Florence and the Machine, Seven Devils
Seven Devils || M4 Part II || Song To Say Goodbye |
Adam James Walker
|Age|
17
"I feel about a million years older than that."
|Suicide Incident|
"No. Haven't tried, not myself... friends of mine. A lot of them. Six, to be exact. One... more than a friend, but that's not what matters. Or is it? Guess it doesn't matter now. At any rate, all of them are dead. I tried to stave off the inevitable - just got harder and harder after each one of them went. Fought, fought hard, wanted to be a hero - gave everything to them. Didn't make a single bit of difference. Would've been easier if they'd all done it at once, but it took, what, a year? Thereabouts. She was the last of them to go; six months ago. There. Is that what you wanted to know? Good. Fuck off- what, have I thought about it? Think about what I just told you. Then come up with your own answer. I'm done here. Goodbye."
|State|
"Grew up in New York; moved to California seven years ago. Frankly, I preferred New York, but we can't have everything. At least it's warmer here, huh?"
|Gender|
Male
|Years as part of the support group|
Joined when it was first set up; instead of joining as a conventional member, he joined with what could be considered an almost scientific interest, as so to learn more about the nature of the illness and help his friends.
|Sexual Orientation|
Straight; functionally speaking, now asexual, as he believes himself to no longer be capable of love
|Favourite Things|
「"Now I'm breaking down your door
To try and safe your swollen face
Though I don't like you anymore
You lying, trying waste of space” 」




|Country?|
"Always wanted to go to Iceland - the scenery there is truly beautiful, in a terrifyingly bleak way. If I had to choose somewhere to die... I don't need to finish that sentence."
|Song?|
"'Song To Say Goodbye', by Placebo. I... can sympathise with the singer's thoughts in that."
|Movie?|
"V For Vendetta. Wanted to be like that myself, once upon a time; lack the strength now. Teaches us some important things - like how little people value their freedom, until it's gone."
|Fashion item?|
"It's a little embarrassing... I still own an old, battered, lightweight US Army coat that was handed down to me by my grandfather. I don't wear it much - the old me, the man who was, wore it all the time. But my grandfather said that it was the coat he wore when he saved his platoon. It's the coat of a hero, not some washed-out, bitter kid who bit off more than he could chew. So it sits in my suitcase. And it's staying in my suitcase."
|Season?|
"Winter; I prefer the cold lighting and the dead sky. Things are too easily revealed in the light of summer."
|Animal?|
"The world only knows its own natural order. Even then, I still prefer the living chaos of man to the deathly harmony of nature."
|Colour?|
"Grey. Doesn't have any traits to it of its own, doesn't have the anger of crimson or the life of green. Doesn't have the absolute morality of black or white. And if you say that it's a shade and it doesn't count, then I am walking out of this office right the hell now."
|Celebrity?|
"Ulysses S. Grant. A man who forged two flags into one, brought peace to a nation by whatever means he saw fit, and who gave his very soul to do it. Gave up every trace of his humanity for what he felt was right. I guess you could say that I understand what he went through, in my own way."
|Food?|
"Consider this childish if you will, but I still can't get over the taste of a good hot chocolate in the morning."
|Smell?|
"Her."
「"If all goes as planned / Will you redeem / My life again?” 」





|Likes|
|| the cold || physical combat || unusual food || firearms || writing || music in minor key || paintball || keeping in shape || reading shakespeare || adrenaline || history ||
|| finding what makes people tick || going for walks || sleep || 'triage', by scott anderson || conducting intellectual debates || discussing philosophy || not being alone ||
|Dislikes|
|| people who accept defeat || the world || politicians || the media || getting close to people || people who assume they understand || psychologists || 'family values' ||
|| preachy religious people || passivity || doing nothing || feeling weak || himself ||
|Secrets|
|| Secret ||
"Five months ago, I killed three people. I keep telling myself that it wasn't my fault... they walked up to me on the street, started shoving me, laughing at me. I think they were her sister's friends... they knew about what had happened to her. They mocked me for it. Called her weak, called me weak. One of them pushed me to the ground, and I saw a jagged piece of metal on the ground... I don't know what it was doing there. I picked it up, stabbed- listen, I won't tell you what happened next. But all three of them died. I covered my tracks well enough; nobody knows it was me. Wait- what? You think that's my secret? God no... no, I don't tell people that, not people I don't trust, because it could land me in jail. But there's one thing I don't tell people. Don't tell anyone, barely even know myself, I've tried to bury it so deep. No, the real secret is that I felt nothing. Standing there over their corpses, I realised that there was no emotion in me. No guilt. No anger and no fear. Nothing. Tell me, what the hell do you think that makes me?"
|| Secret ||
"I'm afraid of intimacy- goddammit, don't laugh. Yeah, doesn't fit the stereotype, huh? Guys are supposed to always want it. Besides, I'm that confident, charismatic guy who gets looked up to. Why the hell would I be afraid of it? Well, that's simple enough. I'm not a virgin - I had sex once. With her, of course. She offered herself to me, one night. Told me she wanted it - I was perfectly fine to go through with it, then, anyway. No, nothing went wrong - it was good, yeah. But the next day- sorry, give me a second. The next day, I woke up, and she wasn't there beside me. That was the night before she died. Do you fucking get it now? Yeah. Ever since, every time I think about sex, I feel like I have to throw up. Now get out."
|Fears/Phobias|
|| sharks || injuries to his fingers || pencil sharpener blades || getting close to people || his mind ||
|Oddities|
|| sleeps for twelve hours three nights a week, doesn't sleep the other four || whenever he's near a knife, gains the overwhelming compulsion to pick it up and play with it; makes people at the camp very nervous, for obvious reasons || curls his fingers into a fist whenever he feels the will to action go through him || gazes into his palm when he's thinking about the past ||
「"Fire the fields, the weed you've sown / Water down your empty soul” 」
6'3"
|Hair colour|
Black
|Eye colour|
Grey
|Build|
Muscular
|Tattoos/Scars/Piercings|
Bullet wound from a shooting accident on his left shoulder; his left shoulder still cracks when he exerts it, but otherwise, is in good condition. No tattoos. Six cuts - exactly six - on his left wrist for every person he failed.
|The Real You|
「[font=garamond]"Before our innocence was lost / You were always one of those / Blessed with lucky sevens / And a voice that made me cry" 」

Bossy: "I like to consider myself a leader, if that's what you're asking. I make things happen."
Opinionated: "Always. Those without opinions are weak; they die too easily. It's important to stand by something, even for its own sake."
Afraid//Paranoid: "Afraid? Nothing to be afraid of, not anymore. As for paranoid, though... let's just say that I don't like being snuck up on."
Ruthless/Relentless: "Overwhelmingly. Suffice to say, do not fuck with me."
Demanding: "I demand only that you survive."
Broken: "You think I'd be here if I wasn't?"
Affectionate: "Once. Killed that part of myself. Only one person ever got to see it... didn't do her much good, now did it?"
Risk-Taking: "Adrenaline makes me feel alive, if only a little bit. So I stick with it."
Fearless: "Always. When you lose everything dear to you, you also lose all fear. A rather dark trade-off, hm?"
Tough: "Tougher than you are."
Self-Controlled: "Most of the time. Sometimes, I just snap. I try to keep it under control. If I do... well, I'm sorry."
Independent: "Rely on anyone, they'll just die on you. Better to be independent. Some people might call that 'alone'. I don't mind either way."
Honest: "Only when it suits me."
Loyal and Faithful: "Nobody left to be loyal to."
Serious: "I don't think I've smiled genuinely in a long time. I don't plan to start now."
Romantic: "No. Just... no."
Flirty: "Moreso now, surprisingly. I guess it's some sort of self-flagellation. Doesn't mean anything either way."
Sympathetic: "Not a shred of sympathy left in here. If there was, I'd be long dead."
Sarcastic: "I try."
Optimistic: "Optimism gets people killed."
Determined: "In the extreme. That's why I made it as far as I did. If nothing else, that word is what defines me."
Logical: "When you're put into my circumstances, it's your only choice."
Hyperactive: "When I'm excited enough."
Sweet/Kind/Caring: "I kill every trace of that I find inside myself. If I get rid of the bits of me that care, maybe it'll hurt a little less."
Protective: "If you want to protect something, you have to throw away everything. Me? I've got nothing left to throw away."
Nurturing: "That word's so far from me that it's actually almost funny."
Humorous/Funny: "When humorous situations arise, I'm generally being laughed at, not with."
Seductive/Manipulative: "Once, when I still had fire inside me, I'd do whatever I had to. These days... I lack the fire."
Violent/Cruel: "You have no idea what's inside of me. Do not try to find out."
Ill Tempered: "Depends on the day. As a general rule? Don't test me, or my patience."
Social: "Only when I can't avoid it, or when the people I'm with are actually interesting."
Emotions: "I don't think I have any left."
|History|
"What's there to tell? I was born in New York. I remember barely anything of my early life - wasn't significant, at the very least. I remember getting into a few too many fights at primary school; pissed off the wrong people, I guess. Pissed off the teachers, too - felt proud about that, at the very least. Learned an intrinsic dislike of authority one day; one of my few clear memories from back then. I saw a teacher hit a kid, just a kid, because the teacher's child didn't like the kid. Realised early on how easily authority can be abused; realised then and there how few morals people have. An important lesson."
"Anyway, I moved to California when I was ten; preferred New York, from what little I recall of the place, but I'm not too picky when it comes to location. People are far more important. Had a simple enough middle schooling; didn't make too many friends, and didn't care about that, then went to high school. Yeah, that's where things went wrong."
"Oh, my parents? Interesting story there. Most people here, I imagine, have bad parents of some sort; either they don't understand, they don't care, or they're outright abusive. Not mine, though. I mean, yeah, they disagreed a lot with what I did; and my father tried to hit me once. For the record, I won that one. Anyway, they weren't perfect - not by any means - but they did one thing right, one thing, and because they did that, I won't ever be able to thank them enough. What was it, you ask? Well, that's simple. They taught me to be me. It can't have been easy, raising my like they did - most parents just tell their kid to obey their elders, to always do as they're told. My parents didn't do that. From the moment I could understand what their words meant, they told me that my life was mine to live, and that I should always choose to obey others. That I never had to do anything, and that if anyone tried to force me, then I should never regret stopping them, regardless of the 'how'. I've never met anyone else who sees the world that way - anyone who sees that the laws of men are just words, and that rules are only rules insofar as they're enforced."
"Anyway, back to the story. I had just entered high school when I met her. I didn't think much of her at first - we hung out a few times, she asked if she could email me a story she'd written, I said 'sure'. That's how it started... anyway, we kept talking after that. Back then, I just thought she was a normal person with a few smaller issues; it was a slow realisation, for me, just how broken she was inside. Over time, she revealed to me the extent of the pain she felt; revealed what happened to her. Dead sister, abusive father, alcoholic mother - she'd fit right in around here. Anyway, I fought by her side for a time - a long time, actually. A year; not sleeping, not resting, always there for her. Anytime she felt herself slipping, I'd be there, talking to her, pulling her out of it. I thought it'd be over after a week - when that passed, I thought it'd be over after a month. Soon, I started talking to her other friends; they were the same as she was. They all met in middle school - I was the outsider, to them. But a welcome outsider; not an invader, but a hero. Someone who'd come to save them all. That's how I saw myself, too."
"Anyway, she was afraid that she'd lose her best friend after the aforementioned friend attempted suicide. So I promised her that nobody was going to die; nobody she cared about. I started talking to her friend... then to another. That's how it started, y'know? Just little steps. Just little ones... nobody was ever supposed to get hurt. Nobody was ever supposed to die. It wasn't meant to end this way, but I guess that we don't get to choose the consequences of our actions."
"I don't know how it happened, but there was a light, eventually. I don't recall the details - locked most of those out of my mind. One day, she found her way into my arms, then my lips. Things... got complicated, after that. I had more of a personal stake - too much of one, you could say. You ever tried balancing a relationship with being the only living hope for six people? No? Don't. Trust me, doesn't work."
"Things went bad, after a while. Things went... very bad. Her best friend was the first to go; that friend's boyfriend, two days later. I think it took... two months? By then, she was the last. I still remember that night... I was at her house. Fell asleep holding her, as she whispered into my ear that she'd always be there for me; when I woke up, she was gone. Just... gone. Searched for four days; walked the streets. Didn't go home, didn't call anyone or talk to them. Found the newspaper on the fourth day - by then, I was basically a shell of a human being, since I hadn't eaten in around eighty-five hours. It said that a girl had- gimme a second. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Get your hand off my shoulder. It said that she'd jumped in front of a train. That was all she got - four or five lines, nothing more."
"And the effect? Well, let's just say that she wasn't the only one who died that day. That's all I'm saying. Now, if you don't mind, I'm done here. I'm only on this camp because my parents made it harder for me to not go than to acquiesce. So this interview is over. Got it?"
Faceclaim:
Robbie Amell