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Edgar Gormly

"One man's trash is another man's life."

0 · 232 views · located in The Citadel

a character in “The Age of Gifted”, as played by Zalgo

Description

Image

Full Name: Edgar Gormly

Nicknames/Aliases: Ed, Patches, Serf, That guy.

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Gift: The ability to merge his being with dead or inorganic material.

Ed's gift essentially allows him to attach or replace parts of himself with dead or inorganic materials which take on the roles of the parts replaced. They hold together and act just as the body part they are substituting did.


Loyalty: Erubescian Serf


Description:

At current Ed's appearance is that of his natural born form. He's roughly one hundred and eighty four centimeters tall and his body is somewhat ectomorphic. His skin is a bit tan due to his days working outside though he works equally as much indoors as well. He's got medium length hair which is so black it makes the room he stands in seem darker. He's got one dark red eye, The other is sewn shut so he isn't hideous enough to be mistaken for some sort of failed medical experiment. His natural eye color is not his greatest irregularity however. His appearance is subject to change thanks to his ability so this section will change to keep the readers up to date on his most recent appearance.

As for things that don't really change he tends to stand with a bit of a forward slouch. His standard manner of speaking is a downtrodden grumble. He typically favors wearing either black or dark colored clothing when given the option to choose his apparel.

Personality:

He's a miserable sod, that much is certain.

If being born at the bottom of society wasn't enough of a buzz-kill having his twin sister living inside his head has worn him out to the point of numbly accepting the fact that his life is just going to be awful no matter what he does about it. While on the job he knows better than to raise a fuss, living by the time old method of keeping his head down and answering when spoken to, never before. Only occasionally does his grim sarcasm slip into his humble persona during his servitude.


To those who know him more personally he can easily be described as a killjoy who never enjoys himself and pretty much avoids fun like it is radiation. His reasons for this are largely due to his sister's often cruel sense of humour. While she will leave him be most of the time on occasion she will mess with Ed in a way which almost always ends poorly for him. She is a big contribution to the reasons Ed doesn't have any friends.

Ever since his parents died he has had a very negative opinion of pretty much everyone. He is a cynical misanthrope who sees the worst in everything. He has disliked a lot of people but out of everyone he's ever disliked he despises himself the most. Deep down he sees himself as about as worthy of respect as the dirt he walks on. He hates his life but he's too much of a coward to end it and he knows it. Even still he excuses it with the fear that if he were to die his sister might follow him into the afterlife and continue his torment for all eternity. In the end he only lives for those brief moments of sweet release from his own consciousness. Being able to slip into a darkness where he can't even hear his sister is an attractive prospect.


Deep beneath his calloused shell runs fiery emotions which still drive him despite being buried beneath the layers of misery. Id knows him well enough to know he's not a truly broken man yet. That fact is what keeps her around. She appreciates that remaining passion which still calls his bitter heart home. For example he still adheres to certain morals despite his atrocious view of his own character. He tries not to hit children unless circumstances are particularly strange. He dislikes hitting people who are too weak to fight back and can even show kindness at times. Hell will freeze over before he ever accepts thanks for a good deed though.

Skills:

Lets start with the traits of his gift since his actual skills will be short.

His ability allows him to take any material and merge it with his body, causing the material to act and function just as the living part it has replaced used to. He can feel sensations through the materials comprising his body as though it were his living flesh leading to some rather odd feelings at times. Depending on what he has bonded to his body this can make him quite durable. He's difficult to permanently put down since any part of him can be replaced, even his brain. If his brain is missing then his body will just automatically make it out of the closest material it has to work with since his mind cannot be there to decide what is used. It is not quite as simple as all that but that is to be explored in Weaknesses.

For skills he can read and write. He also knows how to carry stuff and clean floors. He's got basic combat knowledge due to his position in the military but it's nothing special. His only notable trait is that he has a surprisingly good grasp and understanding of grammar. His aspiration is to one day write a novel.

Weaknesses:

As with his skills we'll start with his gift though his personal weaknesses are many.

Firstly the material he adopts onto his body cannot be alive at the time of merging. Once dead the substance can be bonded to him but never before. Secondly his surrogate muscles cannot lift more than he could while his flesh was human, regardless of the material used. Thirdly his limbs, body and head cannot be larger than what they were back when his flesh was human and his own. Any excess material will simply slough off the part it was previously attached to. Machines that are merged with his body that have parts or a frame that is larger than his gift will support will come apart, leaving what parts that fit in his design still attached to him. Fourth weakness to his gift is that just as he can still feel the sensation of touch and temperature through the materials bonded with his body he can also feel pain. Damage dealt to the materials he's composed from will hurt just as much as it would were it all his flesh. Lastly his weakness regarding his inability to merge with living material is what leaves him vulnerable to destruction. While he'll merge with his environment even if he is mostly destroyed if he is completely destroyed or dissolved in acid while surrounded by living tissue or other matter then he'll have nothing to replace what is lost and finally be rid of the world.

Weaknesses not directly tied to his gift are many. He is not the brightest fellow for one thing. When he gets hurt he tends to hit first and think well past the point where it would of been useful to him. He'll tend to follow plans that appeal more to his emotions over plans rooted in logic which is often a poor idea given his lack of natural intuition. He's got a low self esteem which gives him a rather poor estimate for how likely he is to succeed. He tends not to understand higher concepts in science, math and art very well and does very poorly whenever he tries his hand at any of those. He's got little to no finesse with fighting. He is positively abysmal at diplomacy and generally not somebody to invite over to social gatherings. To top it all off he's got his sister who will occasionally make life harder for him because him simply succeeding at something through determination and hard work would be boring.

Brief History:

He was born a twin to his sister, Id. From the moment he was born his sister shifted her form, vanishing from view completely before crawling inside his mind. Ever since then they've done everything together. Id would almost never part from his mind as the world of dreams and ideas were so much more interesting than the real world. Eventually however she started to realize that she could do whatever she wanted to her brother and he had no way to stop her. Thus the abuse began early. She would pull pranks on him from time to time, always biding her time so Ed never knew when to expect her next cruel trick.

Ed's parents were pretty much bottom of the rung civilians. They worked staggered shifts so they could take more care of their children but they were often overworked and naturally poor of course. He spent most of his childhood finding new hiding places to avoid the bullies he had attracted thanks to his dear sister of course. It could easily be said that his was a rotten childhood, setting the tone perfectly as the rest of his life was a downward slide from there on forth.


In his teenage years their parents were killed in a Liberty mercenary attack on their town. They were eventually beaten back by the knights and everyone celebrated as the day was won. Everyone except for Ed that is.

Ed knew that the knights could of easily stopped them from killing his parents but the cold fact of the matter was that his parents were not important in the slightest. The knights had prioritized the upper-class districts leaving the common folk to the (lack of) mercy of the mercenaries who killed with little discrimination. The event was a lesson and it's teachings would never leave him from that day forth. He was used to being treated like dirt and now he knew that dirt was all the upper ranks of society saw him as. He was dirt.


Ever since his parents died money was not easy to come by. He tried looking for work but not a lot of folks were looking to employ some pauper off the streets. He wanted to be an artist which wasn't an unprofitable career path but there were some problems with that plan. He didn't have any talent for art and nobody wanted to see his work anyways. He only had negative things to say about everything, it was not an opinion many people shared. In the end despite his dislike for the hierarchy Ed signed up with the military. It was one of the few places where simply being a strong young man was enough and he could bite his tongue for the sake of living from day to day.

Of course it didn't help that he didn't get along with anyone. Superiors, comrades, there wasn't a single person who thought he was good company. He was picked on, mocked and derided. For years he endured, staying upon his miserable course without lashing out. His one respite was his writings, a book in the making. He could put up with a lot since it was just work. One fateful night however what used to be simply workplace enmity quickly got personal for him.

It was all gone. Someone with technopathy had deleted all his work and his backups were missing. What was worse was that his other squad mates knew what had happened. They were laughing.


He had enough. He didn't lash out, didn't yell or raise a fuss. All he did was pack his stuff and leave. He made sure to leave out the back where there was only one guard. The guard there got into the post simply so he could sleep out of sight of the others since there was little oversight around that entrance. Once out Edgar just kept walking, further still once he was past city limits. For the next couple of years he drifted about the few cities which laid outside the borders of Erubesco. These cities were neither Erubesco nor Liberty cities simply thanks to their minute size and significance. He lived a drifter for some time.

Of course this peaceful and quiet lifestyle was much too boring for his sister. One night while all were asleep she secretly phoned his former base and told them where to find him. When he woke up there were a bunch of angry Erubescan soldiers with guns pointed at him. He was marched right back and sent to military court where he was found guilty of desertion. He spent several months locked up until an alternative presented itself. They needed more hands for the fight against Liberty so they were signing up prisoners as serfs in exchange for a reduced sentence. Ed took the offer and right away he was sent off to work as a serf.

Work as a serf was hard but it wasn't anything he found too objectionable. His standards for what was unacceptable by this point were exceptionally low. Still, it was straight-forward. He could only hope things remained so.

If only life were so simple.

Other: He and his sister are deeply connected. Their bond from birth is a symbiotic link which serves them both. For Ed this connection serves to protect his mind from others when his sister deems such protections necessary.

So begins...

Edgar Gormly's Story

Setting

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Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Id Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel
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#, as written by Zalgo
The alarm rang. Ed woke up in his bunk down in the barracks where they kept the serfs. Serfs had to stay within the citadel limits for security reasons. Given their station few people trusted them and even fewer liked them. He wouldn't disagree on that though quite frankly he didn't really care what others thought about him. Better they hate him than like him, at least that's how he felt.

He got out of bed and made his way over to the changing rooms. Inside one of the lockers was his new uniform: a janitors outfit. Ever since they had arrived at the citadel they were delegated the least desirable tasks which they were to perform during their stay. In little more than a few weeks he and the rest of the crew he was assigned to were to be sent out to the front lines as ground troops aka cannon fodder. For now however their work was to carry unimportant things like furniture and clean the floors.


Their wing of the barrack's speakers sputtered to life, relaying commands to them from their task master.
"Bunks A to J proceed down to loading bays three through seven. Bunks K to Z proceed over to third floor, west wing. You all know your duties now go."

Just the same as yesterday. With all that he needed Ed began on his way out of the barracks and into the main body of the citadel itself along with everyone else in his bunk aisle. As they arrived in front of the storage there waited the chief janitor. They lined up as they were handed their mobs, buckets and miscellaneous supplies before being told their destination. They already knew the general list of tasks set for janitorial service. Ed received his gear and was sent off to the region of the citadel he was assigned to.


So there he was, mopping the floor down the hallway. Scrubbing the boot stains and other debris was a nuisance but it still beat rotting in jail. Quite frankly as most people who passed paid him little heed there was not a lot he could complain about. This work offered him time alone which he treasured like the nobles treasured their gold. Being alone meant that there were less opportunities for her to seize. Id was always watching, looking to set up his downfall so she could watch him stumble.

As he was minding his business he turned a corner and noticed another janitor was already working his area. Now this was confusing. He was about to ask as to why she was working where he was assigned but upon getting a good look at her he was caught a bit off guard. Not only had he never seen this janitor before but her appearance was most unusual for anyone outside of a hospital. Bandages from neck to toe stained with medical fluids and stitches running down along her face all sold the image of someone who was clumsily reassembled. Ed had seen some wounds back when he was still part of the infantry and she seemed to encompass all of them plus some.


If she was looking at him back she would of caught him just standing there staring with the one eye he still had. He really couldn't throw stones given the fact his left eye was sewn shut so people would stop staring into the empty socket all the time. Still, her appearance greatly contrasted with the types of people that frequented the citadel. An entire facility full of vain aristocrats and muscular warriors all preening themselves in a constant struggle to appeal to each other in some strange vain social ritual. The ugly were the exception here.

It could also be said that Ed hadn't spent much too long in the citadel itself. Most of his career was spent out at other forts, even during training. Catching himself staring he turned his eye down, looking away before he made this run in even more awkward than it already was. She was pretty much in the middle of the route he was assigned to take care of so something needed to be said.

"Um... Are you working this stretch?"

He didn't want to be rude just in case she had wondered in from the medical ward. Last thing he'd need is to piss off her doctor given his caste.

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Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel
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Whilst Cadriel mopped, she considered the events of recent days. Shot, saved, memory resorted, finding herself helping one of the Commanders she resented ore than just about anyone else, and agreeing to potential....well at this point she was not even sure what she'd agreed to. Perhaps Botrelle had gotten over whatever she'd been writing that night, or perhaps not. She'd not had a lot of contact recently. She also thought back to her talk with Acolyte Kolert, who had been wholly unconvinced about the nature f how Caddie had some to her position. Whilst she felt a bit bitter about it, the experiment guessed that she could not really blame Piper. Would her previous incarnation have ever believed that Erubesco would screw over one of their own in such a way? Probably not. Factions did tend to instil in you a sense of trust in authority. Despite everything she did rather miss that trust. Missed feeling safe within the walls of the Citadel. Still, false security was no security at all. Least now she was ready for the horrible stuff that ight happen and the unpleasantness came as less of a shock.

The cleaner was pulled out of her reverie by the sight of someone standing watching her, custodial staff most certainly. She didn't exactly like how long her was taking to look her over. Being most unnoticed did at least have the perk that Caddie felt like less of a freak. He was questioning what she was doing there, and, in the less than stellar mood she was already in, prompted a weary reply.

"No I'm taking my pet mop for a walk." Caddie responded with the deadpan sarcasm of somebody who really had no interest in whatever the disagreement was.
"I've been responsible for the offices, teleportation port, and the research block for six months. "

In order to demonstrate the experiment reached a bandaged hand under the neck of her top and withdrew a lanyard with her newly-replaced ID tag, marked with 'CLEARANCE LEVEL 8' in bright red script, something that allowed her down to the darkest depths of the research levels.

"And I've already been working through that for the best part of two hours now, so if you think you're supposed to be here, you're either mistaken or misdirected. My schedule has not changed in six months and I could draw these corridors while blindfolded at this point."

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Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Id Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel
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#, as written by Zalgo
Al heard her retort out. He smirked a little at her sarcastic quip but unfortunately as much as he'd prefer to trade witticisms with the patchwork woman he was sure to hear of it if he didn't get finished. Before he could move past her she produced her ID tag. He leaned forward to get a better look on the lettering of the card.

"Hmm... Cadriel... Clearance level eight."

So, Cadriel was her name then. She had a far higher clearance than his measly clearance level three that much was made certain. An already interesting figure made all the more enigmatic the more he knew. Who on earth does she report to despite being a janitor just like him? What possible level of injury must she of sustained to warrant those bandages? Those questions and more were being asked in his head. Not that he expected a reply to any one of them, they were just thoughts after all.
The only person looking in on those right now would never be so kind as to inform him in any beneficial way.


He was stirred from his slight bout of introspection as Cadriel continued, dismissing him as either mistaken or mislead.
"Fine. A simple yes would of sufficed." He didn't sound particularly happy but then again he never did. Turning around he started on his way back. Of course Id wasn't going to let it be that easy. She'd been pretty bored these last few weeks and at this point was willing to pull a petty prank just to get a cheap chuckle at her brother's expense. It was nothing quite as lovely as some of her previous plans but she had some hope it would tide her over until a truly juicy opportunity presented itself.

As Ed was walking he was no longer aware of what his right hand was doing. The bucket of water he was carrying started to tip until it was pouring water as he walked. All the work he had done was undone by his own hand. He eventually noticed something was off when he reached the entrance to the elevator when he noticed his bucket was significantly lighter. As he looked down, curious as to what was different, he noticed what he had done. His expression turned to one of surprise before settling into a frown of depression as he realized he'd have to clean the entire stretch of the hall again. Putting a palm to his face he groaned, slowly but definitely getting back onto the task he just did.

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

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Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel
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Skip wasn't sure where he would find everyone, but he had a few ideas of where he might find one person, assuming Caddie's cleaning rotations hadn't changed since he left. Into an elevator he jumped, tapping the button of the suspect floor, and subsequently tapping his foot on the elevator's floor as he waited.

The door slid open and Skip sped out, stopping inches away from some dark haired fellow with a mop bucket. He nearly slid straight into the guy thanks to the mess of puddles on the floor. As it was, if the guy knew who Skip was, he would almost certainly find the distance uncomfortable. And...granted...even if he didn't know who Skip was, having one's face licking distance from a stranger's isn't traditionally considered comfortable.

But Skip didn't mind making people feel uncomfortable.

"Oh. Hi," he said cheerfully. "You spilled, there. I can help you with that if you want. But maybe could you also tell me, are you familiar with a certain Creepsy? Telekinetic? You might be more familiar with, specifically, Nice Creepsy or Bad Creepsy, but I'm hoping she's still the in-between one." He put his hand to his shoulder-height. "She's about that big? Kinda looks like one of those sad claymation dolls except one that also got hit with a truck in a needle-and-thread storm and is also wearing bandage socks?"

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

Setting

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Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Id Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel
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#, as written by Zalgo
Ed was busy toiling away on the sodden floors which he was directly responsible for as far as he and pretty everyone else knew, so busy in fact that he did not have the opportunity to notice the man speeding out from the elevator towards him. He hadn't raised his head to see some lanky guy quickly slipping and sliding towards him until the man was nearly in his face.

Just as the stranger caught himself in time to not crash in to him Ed backed up a step, looking rather cross due to this guy coming well within his comfort zone. Ed's comfort zone was pretty large as talking to pretty much anyone made him uncomfortable but in this case his discomfort was compounded with the proximity of this new guy.


"Hey, watch it." He warned just before the man started to ramble on about something. It started as something about helping then he moved on to something about a Creepsy, whatever that was, that was telekinetic or maybe a bad or good something or whatever. All Ed could really discern was that this guy was asking about somebody. He just looked at him with an expression of confusion as he tried to make sense of what this guy was going on about.

"So you want to find a who? I mean what? I-err, what do you mean? Telekinetic? What?"

He struggled to make sense of what he meant until the man started describing the person he was talking about with better details than 'Bad-creepsy' and 'Nice-creepsy'. He still wasn't very clear but at least he could make a little sense of what this guy wanted.

"Alright I'm just going to take a shot in the dark and assume you mean... Cadriel?"


It wasn't much of an answer but it was the best assumption he could make given the terrible description. He gave a short shrug, looking down the hall where he had come back from.

"She's still working this floor. Don't know if she's supposed to be on this floor for the next few weeks but her clearance is higher than mine so I'm not fighting it. I don't think she's left if you're looking for her."

His answer wasn't exactly precise but then again it's hard to be when people have a habit of not always staying in the same place. After all, he barely understood where he was supposed to be let alone where she was. Since the guy brought it up she came back into mind. She did have a lot of stitches like she was pieced together after being torn apart but she didn't really look much too bad for it. Perhaps rather it was Ed who thought it didn't look so bad. Then again he knew he was a sucker for the macabre. Conventional beauty had it's place but it was a place he was not welcome. It wasn't a place he would be happy in even if he was welcome. Things that made people happy weren't for him.

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Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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Jack still wondered about the ball, and he was starting to get second doubts. Was he even invited? They might want him somewhere else. He wasn't too sure, he had spent most of his recent time in the labs, so they could monitor a growth spurt. They wanted him ever bigger, and even stronger. Even if he was invited, what was the chance he would find clothes? He had some nice clothes from years before, from when he and his mom went somewhere nice. There is no hope of putting them on now.

The smell of food distracted him from that thought. "Clothes can wait." His sense of smell was keen for food, and Jack as still hungry. He didn't care if it wasn't up to some of the standards of his fellow Erubescians, he would still eat as much of it as he could.

As he walked, he saw two people chatting, although one seemed rather annoyed at the other. The second man didn't seemed phased by it though. Whoever it was he was trying to find, sure did sound like a sight to see. He was soon interrupted as his feet started to slide on the wet floor. "Holy smokes!" He slid forward on the floor trying not to fall, but it didn't take long before he felt himself starting to tip backwards. His feet were in the air. Desperate not to hit the ground, Jack reached for whatever he could. In his panic, he grabbed for the wall but instead punched through it, pulling parts of it down with him as he fell.

He hit the ground with a loud thud.

Jack laid there on the ground, with a fistfull of wall and a wet back. "Dammit.."

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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  1. Wrong lication because Vit is a stupidface.

    by VitaminHeart
  2. Misspelled word 'location' because Vit is more of a stupidface.

    by VitaminHeart
  3. possible wrong location

    by VitaminHeart

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Cadriel, mop and bucket set to one side, crouched over by one of the few drinks vending machines in the main block thatd been spared Kora's wrath. Her work that in the morning had unearthed enough loose change that she could afford to dispense a paper cup of hot chocolate to warm up her hands. Poor circulation meant they were cold the majority of the time, though she could at least take a few minutes to try and coax some feeling back in...plus something to drink was welcome as she started work long before she'd get a chance to eat anything.

The little serf, tucked away in an alcove in hopes that no-one would see her and come give her something else to do, was just raising the cup to drink when the sudden crash and sound of splintering drywall slipped it free from her grasp.

The cup went all fo a few inches before it froze in mid-air, contents sloshing about wildly, but mostly intact, before its owner grasped it again and wearily pulled up the mop and bucket.

Something was undoubtedly broken.

While technically, realistically and practically this fact was absolutely nothing to do with her, the lightbulb incident not so long prior had gone to teach her that some of the higher ranking staff members regarded anything that was not functioning or maintaining full integrity as being her own responsibility... and the consequences ended up painful more often than not.

Of course the dynamic might have changed in some way since the same person who had used their powers on her for failing to fix a bathroom light had also been the person she'd given first aid to after some severe round of torture... but she didn't exactly trust the actions of a certain Commander. Or indeed any of the others who didn't owe her anything.

It was better not to give anyone an excuse to shoot her again.

Caddie hopped dow the flight of steps, bucket bobbing unevenly behind her, right up to the point where the turned a corner at the west edge of the block and came across the sight of some Knight, lying on the floor with a handful of the wall in one hand. She met this with a tired sigh. Hardly the first time...but also hardly quick to fix either. Actual maintenance would drag their feet on it for weeks so she'd probably end up fielding flak from irate acolytes keen to pull rank to make themselves feel better.

Perhaps out of unwillingness to face this new unwelcome complication, Caddie's gaze drifted.

On the other side of this figure stood the surly custodian who'd been trying to insist she was in the wrong place (something she was still not happy with) and finally there was.

"...S-Skip?"

The bucket, mop and cup dropped to the floor, landing quite impressively upright as the telekinetic young woman stood in the centre of them like the middle of a ritual circle, grey eyes wide.

"Skip. You're...still..well..."

Realizing abruptly that this was probably more of a spectacle than she had realized it to be, the experiment loosened her posture and turned her gaze away, turning her hands inside each other.

"I mean...I'm glad you're okay...all that stuff. I thought something might have happened."

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

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Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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"Yeah. Like I said, Creepsy," said Skip. He was about to take the janitor's offer for an escort when the drywall crumbled in the stranger's hand. "More messes," he noted, pointing--cheerfully, not condescendingly. Picking up some drywall was certainly somewhere he could be useful. It wasn't much, but with his conditioned psyche, any opportunity to be used was a thrill after his time in isolation.

"I'm Skip the Third, by the way," he chattered as he tiptoed around puddles toward the accidental vandal and the crumble of wall bits.

It was at that moment that he heard his name, followed by the bang of Caddie's dropped bucket. Skip looked up and beamed like he had just won a lifetime supply of sherbet.

Skip didn't share Cadriel's hesitation. The project could count on one hand the number of people who willfully accepted physical contact of any kind, and he was going to take advantage of it. The rubber soles of the yellow chucks half-slipping and squeaking in the water from his haste, he bounded to the smaller experiment and swept her into an almost too-tight embrace that could easily take her feet off the floor, glowing shaking a tad from the strain of not giving everyone in the vicinity cancer.

"I'm fine, I'm good!" he said, releasing her. "See? Granted. Stuff did sort of happen." His smile grew rather weak. He glanced at Edgar and Jack, not certain how much of what he was about to say was classified. But certainly there was enough base gossip around that they couldn't find it out anyway, if they asked. "They--well--they put a microdetonator in my head. I was supposed to--sort of kamikaze that Wanderer group for what they did to the base. But Eris didn't pull the, um, proverbial trigger--which was surprising, since I thought she hated me--and I was afraid so I told the Wanderers, and they got it out before somebody else could do the job, I guess."

He dipped his head briefly, pressing his lips together. A shaming internal sting like the zap of a dog's shock collar still accompanied the thought of his failure. His cowardice.

He stuck on a smile again and looked up, his face lightening. "Anyway--the Helton curse--it's a real thing, apparently. Who knew? It nearly got me dead--so I guess it means I'm still loyal or something. So here I am. Transport picked me up a few days ago. I've been in the labs until today. Eris--she put in a request to get some of my clearance back today. And, um, I came upstairs--and I met Second Tallest Guy I've Ever Seen and Odin, with the stitches, there--" He paused to smile and wave at Edgar and Jack in turn, just to make sure they caught their christenings. "--then you dropped your bucket. And I think we're officially caught up from my end."

He quieted for a second, waiting for her story, but blurted out again at the last moment, "Oh and one of the Wanderers Lolly helped me catch a pet bird. His name is Dan and he doesn't sleep in my room because of what happened to the puppies and the other birds and the cat and the lizard, but he's downstairs if you want to see."

Pause. A thoughtful crease of the forehead.

"Okay, now we're officially caught up from my end. What did I miss?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Id Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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#, as written by Zalgo
Ed nodded to Skip, acknowledging his introduction.

He didn't need Skip to point out the awful mess the large oaf of a man had made. This just meant more work, more opportunity to get his ear talked off when it came time to report back. Before he could resume his mopping however the bang of a bucket hitting the floor brought his eyes off the strange rambling fellow over to the woman he had come across earlier.

From the moment she saw Skip he could tell they knew each other well. How well was questionable as Skip ran in for a big hug. Either the guy was an extremely touchy-feely sort of person, the kind of person who makes his skin crawl just being near, or the two were close. Regardless of who they were or who was sleeping with it was none of his business and he planned to keep it that way. It was getting way too crowded in this hall as it was. Two was company, three was a crowd and all of the above was more company than he appreciated.


Just as he was about to move on down the hall, hoping to avoid notice so he could clean the rest of the mess he made in peace, he found his foot would not move as though it were glued to the floor. Attempting to move the other foot he saw that it too would not move.

"Aw. Leaving already?"

He cringed. Hearing her voice never meant anything good.


Look, I've already made myself look like enough of a fool out here. You don't need to help.

He struggled not to speak aloud, a learned habit from past experience. He knew nobody else could hear her voice except for him, at least that is what he's been led to believe, and answering questions nobody asked would only make him seem like some sort of lunatic. He didn't need help becoming even more of a social pariah.

"Looks like you've made yourself some friends. Aren't they just adorable?"

Ed's back stiffened instantly as he felt a smooth, delicate finger trace down the right side of his neck. Sauntering up to his side the ethereal beauty that was his sister rested her chin upon his shoulder, lightly leaning on him as she looked over the group around Ed with a devilish smirk. He could feel her touch and her weight upon him but he knew she wasn't there. It was all a hallucination, a trick of his mind brought upon him by her. Sweat ran down his brow as he tried his hardest to ignore her presence.

No. I don't know these people. They aren't adorable either.

"Tut tut. You're too negative. You need to loosen up. Lets hang out with your new buddies."


She was so casual she spoke as if she had not a care in the world. The truth was she didn't have one. She was effectively unaffected by almost all forms of danger. No one other than her brother even knew she existed and Ed couldn't do anything to her. The most he could do to bother her was to keep away from things she might take an interest in. Right now however he was powerless to challenge the verdict. He wasn't going anywhere no matter how badly he disliked it and he disliked this situation plenty.

So there he stood, bucket next to him and mop in his hand. Having said her word she decided to vanish, leaving Ed's perceived world while he listened to what Skip had to say. He couldn't help but give a sigh of relief now that he didn't need to pretend there wasn't someone hanging off his shoulder now that she let him be. He knew better than to think for a moment she wasn't listening to every thought and watching every emotion that passed through his mind but at the very least he could suffer without her added torment for the time being.


At the very least some of what Skip had to say was of some interest. The fact that the military had put a micro-detonator in his head wasn't shocking news but it was still worthy of note. He wondered just how they planned to kill people with a bomb that small. There was also mention of some person named Eris but he had no idea who that was so he didn't care.

The most interesting thing to Ed that Skip mentioned was something called The Helton Curse. He didn't know anything about a Helton but from what he could deduce from what he said he figured it killed people who were loyal to Erebesco or something along those lines. Now Ed didn't wish death upon Erubesco or anything quite so strong but he definitely knew that he was by no means loyal. He served because he had no choice. Something with a curse that killed off loyal members of Erubesco would come in handy if he ever wanted to be left alone.


Not that there wouldn't be other ways the military could get him. If there was one thing he knew it was that there was always someone with something for the job. That was the irritating part about his fellow gifted. Thanks to their super powers it was a pure matter of fact that no one is born equal. He was born to be lesser than others. As far as his fellow gifted were concerned he was dirt. He couldn't blame them, he thought so too. To him he was just some one-eyed piece of junk that barely even understood his own ability. He'd never known nor did he ever want to know the specifics regarding his supposed 'Gift'. Quite frankly he didn't even care. He had had enough of people and their powers. He just wanted to be alone.

Of course she wouldn't like that very much. Far too boring for the likes of Id.

He wasn't amused with his new nickname. A name such as Odin's was well wasted on some rotten janitorial slave. He never liked nicknames to begin with and he was starting to really dislike Skip as well. Perhaps this is your plan. He wondered, thinking words knowing that Id would definitely hear them. You knew this would really get under my skin, didn't you. He accused her in a scathing tone of thought. Nothing answered back save a long period of silence. She knew he knew that she could hear his thoughts but she didn't want him getting the idea that he could just talk to her whenever he liked. She found his impotent rage highly amusing but too much of anything was never palatable.


Quietly he stood there, hoping his quiet participation wasn't drawing too much attention. He looked about, hoping they weren't staring. Given his odd behavior moments ago he figured odds were likely that he wouldn't escape this conversation completely clear. His trust in his own luck had been lost a long time ago.

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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  1. possible wrong location

    by thebagel264
  2. possible wrong location

    by thebagel264
  3. Sorry about taking so long to reply, I've had finals and inventory at work. Aaand I put it in the wrong location. Dang it.

    by thebagel264

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Jack laid there on the floor, wondering what the hell was going on. He heard some footsteps coming with a metal clanking. Great. Was he in trouble now? Was someone going to take him away? He rolled over to see who was coming, feeling water and debris move under him. He wasn't so scared when he saw who was coming. A bandaged girl who only came up to his waist. Though, she still had the potential to cause him great harm. He didn't know what her gift was. She could burn him, zap him, mess with his head, or do something he'd never even seen before.

Her attention went from him to one of the men who was there before. The happier one, not the grumpy one. Jack didn't know why that guy was so grump, but he didn't like it. He didn't like grumpy people. What was his problem? At least the second man, who went by the name of Skip? Skip was a verb to Jack, but apparently this man's name. And apparently he wasn't the first one either, there were two before him. "What happened to the other two?"

Skip was much more graceful than Jack on the wet floor. While Jack had crashed and fallen, taking the wall with him, Skip's shoes only squeaked. He started to pick himself up off the floor. Jack rolled on his side to push himself to sit, and stood up from there. As he did, everything quickly went from being above him, to far below him. The two came up to his chest, and the bandaged girl came a touch above his waist. "Why ain't you a cute little thing." He would pinch her cheeks, but it might break her jaw seeing the state she's in. He looked to the damage he had done, and was surprised at the wide gash he left in the wall.

The glowing man was blabbering on and it was a bit too much for Jack to follow. A micro detonator? Wanderers? Helton curse? Before long his speech was over, and he was waving to him. Jack waved back, still confused. The grumpy one had started to leave, but must of changed his mind because he was just standing there. It didn't make much sense to Jack. Was this guy going to explode at him for breaking the wall? Who knew, maybe that micro detonator would explode first.

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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The force of Skip's embrace lifted the little experiment's feet clean off of the floor. She might have been rather uncomfortable by being seized in such a manner by most other people, but more than anything Caddie was overjoyed to see Skip, one of the only people she could unironically call her friend, back and safe. The smile on her face tugged at the stitches at the corner of her mouth, revealing some of her dreadful jagged teeth, but it wasn't much of a concern at the time.

Having dusted herself off a little and recovered her still-intact drink from the floor, she began listening to what had taken place.

With the experiment's revelation about a one certain knight commander, a number of things that had happened lately made far more sense. Though a number of other things made far less. Like the now troubling implication that Commander Botrelle had a soul and some sort of sense of decency. At least Caddie didn't need to feel quite so let down about helping her then. She'd always been feeling a little like her sense of empathy had rather ruined her opportunity for revenge. One time she had any measure of power over someone who'd made her life difficult, and she'd ended up offering first aid.

As far as what had happened... well Cadriel wished she could feel more surprised about the actions of the faction. Then again considering how she had been treated there weren't many things they could do to an experiment that would shock her. Even if it wasn't fair to do it to Skip, someone significantly less dissatisfied with things than she was. He wasn't a traitor, and if he had done something wrong it was more likely stemming from how they'd made him themselves. You couldn't create things a certain way and them blame them when it was flawed.

Still, he was back, and presumably no longer facing any kind of retribution. Things were looking up.
"Well I uh.. mopped a bunch of floors and occasionally got shouted at. Also I had to help out Commander Botrelle after Commander Avalon.... well she was hurt pretty bad and I don't know if she could've patched herself up so...I helped her get cleaned up. "

She decided to leave out the ''and then she attempted to kill me and then involved me in some kind of plot'' for the sake of expediency.

"And then this morning I was doing my usual stuff when one-eye-guy there told me I wasn't supposed to be there. But I was. Then I was going to take a break and get a drink....then I heard the wall being ripped open so..."

The large-sized knight had, by then, gotten to his feet and addressed the serf; with something she would regard as a bit of a disparaging comment. Even if she had been 'cute' she wasn't sure she liked being greeted like it...but looking like a marionette and a tub of medical waste had crashed into each other at high speed it wasn't hard to perceive such things as some kind of mockery. Sporting a lopsided frown Caddie was about to bring up the broken wall, and how fixing it wasn't part of her area of expertise, when her earpiece chirped suddenly into life. This was alarming as Cadriel could not remember the last time she'd been personally called up. Most of the time her interactions were rather a one on one basis...usually somebody shouting at her over a trivial matter. It had been an age since she'd gotten a call up.

The janitor fumbled with the device, stuffed into the bandages at the base of her neck, and clumsily pushed it into place. The large piece missing from her ear on that side made it sit a little awkwardly.

As Caddie listened, her grey eyes widened in alarm.

Emergency response team.
Civilian clothes.
Teleport bay.
Five minutes.

Trying to grip the intercom once again with her heavily bandaged hand, the little experiment spoke up in a small voice.
"Er...Commander...was I added to the list by accident? I....I'm not sure I was supposed to get this call..."



----


When Lulu suddenly broke off, Kora had been sat emptying about six sugar packets into her second cup of coffee, and morosely chewing on bacon and toast. She couldn't deny that she felt better for eating and drinking something sensible after days of not really taking care of herself. Still despite this, and despite her friend's assurances that she wasn't to blame, Kora could still feel the weight of accumulated shame rather heavily on her shoulders.

Regardless of the circumstances, people saw her as failure. An incompetent. She didn't want to be kept on in the Citadel out of pity. She was supposed to be an unstoppable warrior. The result of one hundred generations of breeding. It should not be this way. She had to prove it. Had to find some way to show people that she was no liability.

As if in answer to this silent request, Lulu spoke up.
All the knight needed to hear was 'Get dressed' and 'Ronin' and she was on her feet, narrowly avoiding covering half the room in coffee. As the commander departed to go and prepare, the redheaded erubescan tore through the remains of her clothes to look for some field gear that was both appropriate and moderately clean.

Civilian outfit, heat-resistor gloves in order to avoid her ability causing a great degree of collateral. No combat knife...seeing as she'd left Geri and Frecki behind. A long-sleeved hooded top top and a bit of adjusting hid most of the wounds and bandages from view. The gauze pad over her eye and cheekbone was still there... but at six and a half foot tall, with bright ginger hair and a distinct nordic accent it was not as if she was going to blend in either way.

From there, Kora was on her way to the teleport bay. That bastard again. Everything had started going wrong when she'd run across that ashrat brute. If this went well it was the perfect time for her to redeem herself in the eyes of the faction. If it didn't...well it would at least make her feel better to be against someone she had no complicated reservations about knocking out the teeth of.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Piper Kolert
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Piper had no time to be confused by her lunch companion’s hasty exit, because she heard Commander Botrelle’s voice in her ear. “On it, Commander,” she said, one hand already starting the wheels of her chair away from the table and the other manipulating her tablet to contact the appropriate channels. The closest custodians and technicians pinged on the smooth interface.

“Chase Black, Edgar Gormly, Krystal Saturns, and Patricia Collin,” she said, practicing her best official-yet-cheerful-yet-no-nonsese voice, feeling very pleased and very official with her new rank to be organizing other people instead of being ordered, “please report to the teleport bay immediately. Gormly, bring soldering equipment and the Cabinet 3 reconstruction materials from the supply closet on your way. Thank you.”

She herself glided straight to the lift, and then to the site of the busted wall. She didn’t need any soldering equipment, herself. She was soldering equipment.
She could do this sort of thing. Battles and losing Knights on her watch, she wasn’t sure she was cut out for that. But emergency technical work? Cake.
Because she'd go real far in life on emergency tech work.
Yeah.
That'd make 'em all so proud and jealous.
Ugh.

---

Something was going on. There was some kind of emergency, probably. Everyone seemed to be involved. The tall guy went literally crashing away, and even Caddie received a summons. Even the other janitor's earpiece lit up. Skip waited for the a call in his ear that his help was needed, too.

He waited until he found himself alone, just standing. Just breathing in the corridor.

Skip was on probation.

Nobody needed him.

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Id Gormly Character Portrait: Piper Kolert
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  1. Wrong Location

    by Zalgo

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#, as written by Zalgo
Cadriel and the large man were both summoned away by a call. Both left rather suddenly, the large man leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. It was at this point Edgar realized something. There's no way I'm going to get that all cleaned up by myself. At least I can blame it all on the large guy and continue on.

With the others gone there was no force holding him there any longer. Looking rotten like his day's been nothing but rotten pears he started on his way off when his annoying headset went off in his ear. He wouldn't wear the damn things if it wasn't declared necessary and enforced as such.

“Chase Black, Edgar Gormly, Krystal Saturns, and Patricia Collin,please report to the teleport bay immediately. Gormly, bring soldering equipment and the Cabinet 3 reconstruction materials from the supply closet on your way. Thank you.”


What the hell is Cabinet three reconstruction materials? Was the first thought to run through his head. The next thought was just a begrudged internal sigh as he turned on his feet and was about to walk on down to the teleport bay when he saw her just standing right next to him in passing. In his ear he heard her voice.

"Aw, leaving your new friend already?" She playfully chided him with mocking concern.

Unless you somehow forgot I have a job to do. Edgar was far less amused with this interest of hers.


"Well I won't keep you but I do know you're interested in that city he spoke of."

Edgar stopped, considering her words carefully. He hadn't even thought of it but now that she mentioned it Skip DID know about Helton, this city he was most interested in. Letting good information like that slip would be squandering an opportunity, a good one. This was definitely another case of his sister playing him like a fiddle. The worst part? It worked like a charm.

Exactly as she knew it would.


Edgar looked back over his shoulder at Skip. "I want to know more about that city. I'll talk to you later."

Not entirely diplomatically put but Edgar was anything but diplomatic as he typically rubbed almost anyone he met the wrong way most of the time. With his farewells wrapped up he left to go bring soldering equipment and Cabinet three reconstruction materials to the teleport bay.



He arrived on scene, having left his mop and bucket back in the supply closet so he could carry the soldering equipment and cabinet three reconstruction materials. The tall, frowning one eyed man in his janitorial jumpsuit approached the scene. He looked on upon the caved in walls and the blonde girl in a wheelchair.

With a beleaguered sigh he set the stuff he was carrying down on the ground. "Who needs this?" He questioned gruffly, his hands already seeking their way into his pockets as he stood nonchalantly over the bits of stone rubble, metal shards and loose wires.

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

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Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Id Gormly Character Portrait: Piper Kolert
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"You do," said Piper, who was already busy at work melting and attaching damaged wiring, leaning forward in her chair until she looked ready to fall out. "All of you," she said as a few more crew members trickled into the teleportation bay. She barely looked up as she spoke; blinding pulses sparked from her fingertips as her Gift activated, lighting her face like an irregular strobe.

"There's an emergency situation going on and...these breaks occurred in someone's haste. The damages may be a threat to security. I think we all saw how catastrophic the results can be when the teleportation security is compromised," she said, detangling a pair of fat, sparking cables with a new determination as she remembered the attack, the fire...the being strapped to the emergency generator like a human battery.

She glanced at Edgar, where he stood hands in pockets, looking, in her opinion, a bit clueless. She vaguely recalled seeing him around the base. She remembered, because he had appeared to be rambling to himself. Piper knew she wasn't dealing with a specialist group; but they all should have received some measure of broad, fundamental repair training, and right now, close by with fundamental training would have to be good enough.

Piper's whole bearing seemed to change as she gladly donned the mantle of responsibility. Her soft voice sounded harder with her decisive orders. "Attach those cables, and those ones. If you don't usually handle electrical, consider this your first training lesson and grab an iron and ask me or Saturns where to attach, or use that adhesive from the supply cabinet to patch the wall over what's already fixed, like there, on my left."

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Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Piper Kolert
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#, as written by Zalgo
There sat the girl, welding wires with her fingers. A little blonde girl in a wheelchair no less. No real big deal to Ed. He didn't care if his orders came from a four hundred foot tall tarantula, work was work. It all sucked anyways.

"There's an emergency situation going on and...these breaks occurred in someone's haste. The damages may be a threat to security. I think we all saw how catastrophic the results can be when the teleportation security is compromised,"

"You mean this here hole the big guy left?" He retorted. He wasn't aware of the events prior to his transfer to this location. He had been working for a bit of time but not long enough to really know this place. He was never really good at remembering faces either. As far as training was concerned he was given basic routines for a select few duties. Patching up walls wasn't outside his scope of training.


"Attach those cables, and those ones. If you don't usually handle electrical, consider this your first training lesson and grab an iron and ask me or Saturns where to attach, or use that adhesive from the supply cabinet to patch the wall over what's already fixed, like there, on my left."

With a indifferent shrug Edgar took up the adhesive. It was an easy enough job and he was not keen to speak to these people more than was already necessary. Applying the adhesive he patched up the wall where needed. All the while he couldn't stop thinking of the town Skip had spoke of.

A place which spells the end of any loyalist who dares venture into the city, all except him of course. It would provide wonderful isolation, especially against more loyal folks Erubescor had.


If only I knew where...