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Abby Sinclair

"I don't remember any reason to be angry. Everyone has their own motivations...Mine? To save who I can."

0 · 250 views · located in Norma Arm

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CelticCat

Description

Name: Abigail Marie Sinclair

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Description: A young woman, Abigail is lithe in build with strong legs. Her feet and hands are somewhat wide, but her fingers and toes are long and delicate. Her eyes are oval-shaped and a gray-green that express a kind nature. She has many freckles across her cheeks and nose, both of which are wide and somewhat flat. Her mouth and complexion lean towards pale, though she gets a tan easily. Her hair falls in dark brown waves to just below her shoulders. She stands about five feet and seven inches from the ground.

She keeps her fingernails long and painted, a luxury. She also has a strange tattoo on her left forearm, which vaguely resembles a triad on an altar. She keeps herself as prim as she possibly can, but isn't too uptight about getting roughed up. Her voice is soft and gentle, but she knows how to yell.

Image

Personality
Personality: Abigail is a generally quiet young woman, with a deep well of compassion for her fellow test subjects and even the scientists. She can empathize with every individual's situation, even if it may take her a while to comprehend it all. She is a caring woman by nature, but she also follows orders. With no memory of her arrival as a subject, she assumes a submissive attitude towards her captors.

She avoids conflict as much as possible, wanting to talk things out. As her powers are defensive, she is very weak in battle, but is very good at running. She would never abandon someone who needed her, however, and is extremely loyal.

Equipment
Kinetic power: Vitakinesis

Secondary Power(s): N/A

Equipment: Only a pistol that she was forced to carry and her protective clothing.

History
Experiment number: 15293

History: She woke up as an experiment, and that is all she sees herself as. She knows her name and birthday. Abigail Marie Sinclair. April 18. She is loyal to the scientists and corporation because they are all she knows. She heard the rumors...but when she was chosen to go after the vindictive subject...she almost wanted to refuse. She will not battle...but she is willing to use her powers to help those who will. She won't let a comrade go down while she's around.

Other: She has a fear of drowning, as she can't remember if she can swim or not.

So begins...

Abby Sinclair's Story

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#, as written by Ikiros
Atian swept his arms around himself, twin streams of water cycling into the air and floating through the air around him. He looked at the place around him, wondering at the marvel of nature around him. It was a small world, sparsely populated, but beautiful. The erosion of the land had created simple but sweeping sculptures of stone. He'd found his way here after leaving Kreandor some four years prior, and even though he'd loved the planet he'd at that time called home, with the rest of Psicom taking it over, ravaging the pristine land, he'd had to leave. Luckily, the planet had clued him in to another place where it had power.

This planet. Orean. He'd only seen a few people, what would basically be considered nomads, when he'd arrived, and so far the world had been kind to him.

He'd sent a message to the other psychically-activated people he'd once worked with, urging them to join him, but he only knew that one of the messages had made it through. His message to Abigail Sinclair. The Vitakinetic he'd known. He could only hope she'd agreed to what he'd said in the message: Join me here, where you can escape the troubles of life.

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Abigail pulled her hair up into a ponytail with slow, half-hearted movements, stepping off the transport vessel she'd rented. She let out a soft sigh as she gazed over the land, letting some of the tension fade from her neck and shoulders. Years on Kreandor had made her grow accustomed to that constant flow of kinetic energy and in comparison this place almost felt desolate, isolated. The air didn't have that charged tension she'd breathed in on Kreandor, and for that she felt a wave of relief. She'd come to escape all of that, forget all of that. She wanted the isolation.

That wasn't exactly the reason she'd come, however. She'd come at the invitation of an acquaintance who'd once betrayed their team. All of that was in the past now. They had something in common: they didn't want to remain on that battlefield. With a pack of essentials slung over her shoulder, she struck out in the first direction that came to her instincts, reaching out mentally to find the other kinetic.

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#, as written by Ikiros
A brush of sensation across the back of his mind, echoed from nearby through the planet's energy, alerted Atian that Abigail had arrived. He dropped his arms to his sides, the rings of water he'd created splashing messily around him, and began to walk towards the sensation he'd felt. It wouldn't be too far of a walk considering he watched the transport vessel unloading supplies and necessaries to one of the small settlements on the planet's surface. As he approached, he saw a female with a pack. He didn't recognize her, as the years had changed them both, but she was familiar enough to him. He broke into a light jog as he closed the gap between them.

"Abigail! It's wonderful to see you again. How was your trip?" he asked, his voice light and pleasant. Unlike when they'd been on Kreandor and his mood had been surly and serious, his time here on Orean had lifted his spirits greatly, allowing him to express a side of himself that he'd not been able to show when war and ruin was just on the horizon.

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Desolate eyes greeted Atian as he approached. "Hello, Atian. It was pleasant enough, I suppose. Quicker than I expected." Her tone no longer held the graceful intricacies of the caring healer and therapist. More than anything, she sounded drained and distant. A forced smile pulled at the corners of her lips and eyes as she tried to adjust herself back into the role she had been groomed for.

"Are you doing well? Is anything paining you?" A huge tone shift, this one was trying to match his happy disposition. She could at least pretend.

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#, as written by Ikiros
As he drew nearer, eventually embracing her gently, he saw that her eyes didn't shine as much as before. He wondered at it, but didn't say anything about it, figuring it could wait until a later time.

"I'm actually doing wonderfully. This planet's been a blessing for my mind and body, and I'm glad you're here. Please, walk with me. I've got a smaller homestead just outside the town's limits." He gestured to the East, where just a few miles away sat a low building. He stepped back, then paused. A swath of water formed out of the air, sweeping Abigail's pack over onto Atian's right shoulder. He smiled and gave a wink.

"Short flight, long flight, you shouldn't have to carry you bags. Plus, this is a place to relax and enjoy yourself." He thought for a moment while waiting for her. "How..How is Kreandor doing these days? The last I saw of it, there were clouds of ash on the horizon during sunrise as I left the planet."

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Abigail returned the embrace before falling into step with him. "That's good to hear, truly. I know many of the people that landed on Kreandor came away with feelings they couldn't shake." She shook her hands slightly, small burns marring her fingertips. "Kreandor has turned...to chaos. There is battle and death everywhere you turn, the casualties were too much for me to handle, even with the help of the Kreandorites. All I can see for the future is the sides wiping each other out."

She shifted her weight and rubbed the back of her neck. "I'd rather not think about it much, Atian..." she whispered softly, the fragile smile threatening to collapse.

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#, as written by Ikiros
"I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't mean to bring up harsh memories..." He frowned a bit, but then began to sweep a hand in myriad motions through the air, streams of water trailing from his fingertips. His mind tried to grasp for things to talk about, but he floundered.

"How have you been, though? You seem well enough, but I figure I ought to ask. You can't hold all the burdens, after all. Power or no, the mind can only handle so much stress." He felt a bit odd asking after her health and such, and even as he thought more about it he couldn't help but remember his use of blood before her eyes those years ago. A sudden urge to apologize washed over him.

"Abigail...I'm sorry. For...well, for doing what I did. I was a bit out of line, and though I'd meant to use it against him..." He broke off, not knowing what more to say.

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Abigail's eyes trailed the swirling water with vague interest, barely paying attention to his words. She missed the question, but she felt a pull of emotion when he started the final statement. A pull that got her full attention. A gentle light came into her eyes and she placed her hand on his shoulder briefly. "Don't worry over that. It's a thing of the past. I understand that you were doing only what you thought would be best."

She stumbled slightly over a rock before righting herself and continuing on. "Besides, I forgave you years ago."

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#, as written by Ikiros
He started when she touched his shoulder. Even after all this time, he'd been a bit pent up inside with the knowledge that his old group may not think him sane anymore. Her admission of having forgiven him caught him wholly by surprise.

"You...did? I....I had been worried about that, to be honest. I wonder if that's why the others didn't respond to my message." He shook his head and looked into the crisp sky. He loved the clarity of it, the pale blue of the sky and the wispy clouds. Even though it had a slightly lower gravity than Kreandor, or even Earth, it was pleasant.

"Do you like it? Orean, I mean. I was clued in to it by Kreandor, just before I made my decision to leave. The power that gave psychic strength to the natives and, I suppose, us is here too, albeit far weaker."

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She played with her dark polished nails, avoiding making eye contact as much as she could. "Honestly, Atian...I'm not sure any of them are around anymore to respond...The two of us may be all that's left of that first team, for all I know." She took in a deep breath of the fresh air and let it out slowly, closing her eyes and allowing her instincts to guide her feet.

"It's...calmer. Quieter. I don't know if I can explain it exactly, but...it doesn't have that constant whispering and tugging at the mind like Kreandor did. I can already tell why you chose this place. It has a totally different aura about it." The tension in her forehead and hands released softly as she took in another steadying breath. The air didn't taste like ash and poison.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Atian let the thought settle. The others weren't likely around anymore, and if that were the case, they were likely to be dead. It was a tough pill to swallow, certainly, since he'd grown to enjoy their company despite how short a time he'd actually taken to interact with them. They'd been good people, and had held his respect, even when he held different views than they did.

Of course, he knew Xaos had died. He'd watched the telekinetic rip up several acres of jungle by himself and carry it with himself during one of the first battles between Psicom and the rogue psychic. It had been terrifying to watch, and after seeing such a powerful person gunned down the way he'd been, Atian had fled to find a place of refuge. No matter what his old leader had said, he'd suspected that Psicom would hardly let him walk free for what he'd done.

"It's true, and I'm glad you like it. Luckily, there aren't too many apex predators here either. And where they do live, it's fairly obvious, so they're easy to avoid. The only reason this place isn't over-flowing with wildlife and isn't completely overgrown is because there are storms that roll over periodically. They make everything tremble with their strength, and there's usually a wildfire, but nothing ever seems to burn for very long, so it's quite pastoral here."

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In the pause as Atian seemed to become lost in his thoughts, Abigail found her own memories bubbling to the surface of her mind. The slow dismantling of their team, the distribution of experimental kinetics across the planet, and her own station at the medical hub, away from everyone. Slowly, she'd completely lost touch with all of them. Devlin was the last to stop responding to her mental messages...That alone convinced her that he'd died. She jolted herself physically and mentally to pull away from the painful thought.

"Ah, I see. A part of me looks forward to seeing it. Some natural weather patterns would be nice to experience again." She fidgeted slightly, her pace quickening. She was anxious to get settled in. Anxious to find a restful place. Anxious because she had been truly relaxed in such a long time, the concept of anxiety was the only familiar feeling she could muster without much effort.

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#, as written by Ikiros
"Just be careful not to be caught out in the fields when it happens. It's not exactly safe. Compared to the storms of Earth, I'd say this would be roughly ten times your average thunderstorm? Yeah, something close to that. Lightning strikes a lot, stuff like that. But it's beautiful to see, especially when it's on the horizon and never really comes close." He chuckled softly.

His home was drawing nearer, and it could be more properly seen at this point. Where it had at first appeared as simply a low thing int he distance, now it could be seen for what it was: a stone shelter without any masonry markings or seals. It was a single piece of stone, eroded and carved into shape. The stone itself was fairly pale, and immaculately clean. As they grew even closer, the door became visible or, rather, the outline did. The door itself was simply another slab of stone placed into a gap that it fit perfectly, though how it was moved was not evident, as there was no knob or any other such device.

"Welcome to my home, Abigail. It's not much, but it sure beats sleeping in the mud and dirt." He grinned and then closed his eyes, focusing. He thrust his arms forward, and then to the side, causing the door to slide back and sideways within the structure. "Before you ask, no I haven't learned terrakinesis. I use the water in the air to push and pull the things around me as needed."

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Abigail opened her eyes and was a little dazzled at the beautiful piece of stone that his home consisted of. There was something about the smooth cleanliness that reminded her vaguely of the labs she'd spent more of her life as a vitakinetic in. Unlike most of the other experiments, she'd had a kind and dependent relationship with the scientists. The feeling that washed over her was one of comfort and safety, instead of fear or entrapment.

A soft smile played across her stiff features. "Your power has a lot of advantages. I'm glad you're utilizing them well."

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#, as written by Ikiros
He smiled and gestured towards the door. "Please, come on in. There's a call for a storm here soon enough, so we'll want to be inside." He knew that the size of the structure above ground wasn't indicative of how much space he really had, but it didn't matter. He looked westward, spotting the clouds that had been called for. They were moving faster than he'd expected, but they still had plenty of time.

He noticed that she seemed a bit more at ease around the building, and thought it a bit odd since she'd not been here before.

"You're looking much better now. But please, come inside. The clouds are on the horizon and coming swiftly."

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Abigail slowly stepped inside, pressing her blistered fingertips against the cold stone as she entered. She closed her eyes and took a quick sniff of the air before moving further into his abode. Fond memories from before all the madness of Kreandor came to her in gentle waves and she simply shook her head to try and recenter herself in the present moment. She was surprised by her own response to the dwelling, she had turned numb to so much of herself during the war. She'd had to, to protect herself.

She tugged lightly at her long, manicured nails before turning back to the opening and waiting for Atian. "Thank you for having me over. You have a beautiful home. Did you make it or did the locals assist you?"

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#, as written by Ikiros
Atian followed her in, shutting the door behind himself to seal out the oncoming storm. He looked around, glad to see the inside of his home again. Every time he went out, a part of him worried he'd not come back. Although a bit sparse of decoration, it had an atmosphere of calm and order.

"Thanks. And I suppose they helped me to find the spot, but after that, it was mostly me. I used water to carve it down until it was enough to live in. Here, lemme show you something." He touched a small tab-like device on the wall by the door, causing the lights to dim halfway and the walls to appear clear as glass. All around them in the sky hung heavy, dark grey clouds. Stormclouds.

"You mentioned a desire to see the storms? Well, we made sure that these were imported here so we could. It acts like a screen, with a coating on the outside of the building acting as a camera and sending the information inside to the inner coating on the wall. Almost every home has one. At least in the above ground rooms they do."

As he talked, the storm rushed upon them, sudden bolt of lightning creasing the sky. Several jumped down at once, striking the ground and igniting the plains, but the following squall of water put those fires out within minutes. A few bolts linked the heavens and the house for the briefest of moments, but nothing more than flashes of light and sound were all that happened to them.

"Once it blows over, or you decide to, I can show you to the guestroom. I figure you may want some rest."

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Abigail nodded thoughtfully as she listened, staring up at the ceiling with fascination. It was fascinating and beautiful, but also a little terrifying and intimidating. She jolted slightly at the sharp cut of thunder, before silently shaking her head slowly. It was awe-inspiring to see this kind of display of natural disaster, instead of the humanity-caused grief she'd been living with for weeks.

She watched silently for several minutes before finally nodding to Atian. "Alright, you're probably correct. I didn't get much sleep in the ship on the way here. I could use some real rest."

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#, as written by Ikiros
Atian seated himself on one of the lounge chairs in the room. Considering that this room was more or less the foyer to the house, it made for a very good meeting room of sorts. He'd furnished it to reflect that, though if a bit drab in how much he'd used. He relaxed, closing his eyes to better open his mind, finding each droplet of water that fell. He began to move them, only slightly at first, but before long he was spelling words with them on the ceiling where Abigail was looking.

Take a seat, Abigail. You're safe here. were the first words, scrolling letters that bled into one another seamlessly.

You don't need to worry about a thing. This world can be your home, just as it is mine. You can relax and let your mind be at peace. Like it should be. The writing paused, the letters sliding away as a river before a new set showed. Vitakinesis should not force you to solely help others. Use it to help cleanse yourself of pain, of stress...of suffering. The past is the past, and though the memories are rough, choose to remember the fond ones and forget the worst.

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Abigail slowly sank into the nearest chair, barely tearing her eyes from the ceiling in order to find the seat. At first, she was perched along the edge of the seat, but gradually she began to relax back. By the time the last few words had disappeared, she was laid back into the chair in a comfortable position, her hands lying lax in her lap and her head tilted up to the ceiling. She smiled the gentlest of smiles as her eyes welled up the littlest bit before simply letting out a soft sigh.

"You're right, Atian...Thank you for calling me here, giving me a place to rest my head." Abigail gently brushed some dust from her arms, letting here eyes fall back into the half-dark room. "You're a good friend." For a split second, she saw someone else sitting in his seat. Saying those words to her. A streak of pain went through her features. "Let's both help each other heal, yeah?" she added softly.

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#, as written by Ikiros
He missed the flash of pain across her face, his eyes so intent upon the storm outside. He'd hardly registered her words, in fact. He was glad to see that she was relaxed, though. He watched the storm for a bit longer, then sat up and stretched. He looked over to her while the storm raged outside, his pale blue eyes glancing over her swiftly.

"Shall I show you to the guestroom then? You seem pretty worn out." He smiled politely and got out of his chair, walking towards a door set low in the floor at the edge of the room. As he opened it, he thought about her offer, to help one another heal. It sounded good to him, so he mentally agreed, though he didn't speak of it.

"Come with me and I'll show you where to go. You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like." He smiled and waited for her, leaning against the door frame.

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Abigail daintily rose from the chair, her eyes lingering on the fabricated ceiling for a short while longer before her feet finally began to move after him. She wanted so very desperately to forget everything that had happened since they'd sent her from the lab, even though she knew she could never scrub everything from her mind. Unlike the memories she'd lost on becoming a test subject, these were engraved into her.

She followed Atian's lead. Rest...a full night of sleep in a place where she could truly feel safe. It's what she'd longed for for a while. "Thank you," she replied simply.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Atian led her to a small room offset from the next hallway. He made sure she had her bag as well, setting it just inside the door before nodding to her.

"Sleep well and long, Abigail. I make breakfast fairly early, but you don't have to wake for it if you don't want to." He paused, about to leave the room. "Oh, one last thing. Each day here on Orean is about 18 hours long, so they're a little quicker than you might be used to. Sleep tight."

With that, Atian retired to his own room, some two levels further down into the ground. Where the upper portions were lit by skylights or artificial lights, where Atian slept was illuminated by naturally phosphorescent crystals.