Announcements: Initiative: Promoting Forum Roleplay » Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Platonic numbers » No complaints (a little bit of rappin) » Any multi-player roleplay videogamers here? » Needing a woman's perspective on a concept » Gluts and Gaps » Universal Basic Income » Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! » Natural Kinds » I have a funny idea » Life in the 21st century. » Song of the Runes » Plato’s Beard » Clues » Nihilism » Strange Tales From Hadean » Art Gulag [ Come get this Commish! ] » Visibility of Private Universes & Profile Customisation » Presuppositionalism »

Players Wanted: Roleplay Return for 1 x 1 » Players wanted for a science fiction adventure. » Players needed for Fantasy Romance reboot » One(1) male & Two(2) Female Roles OPEN <3 » Talmora: Kingdom of magic » Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! » Looking for roleplayers » Fun tale full of angels, demons, and humans » Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life ٩( ´・ш・)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution »

0
followers
follow

Ethan Railee

A helpless empath with no control over his powers.

0 · 994 views · located in Terra

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

Groups

An organization of Terran citizens who have been endowed with legal authority by the Terran National Government to protect and maintain the health and well-being of the Terran community at large.
Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Ethan Railee


"There is no crueler punishment on God's green earth then the ability to feel another's suffering."


Image

Profile

Age: 17

Height: 6'

Build: Toned / Athletic Ectomorphic

Ethan stands at 6', his posture slightly slack and his hands usually stuffed in the abysmal confines of his jean pockets. His hair is long and black, flowing down across his boyishly-handsome face and ash grey eyes. While not terribly strong or muscular on first-glance, Ethan's physique is toned and athletic; hardened from an impoverished childhood riddled with pain and stern labor.

His clothing is simple and plain; the young man usually preferring darker colors and neutral themes in his attire. Most often Ethan can be seen dressed casually in a long jacket thrown over a loose T-Shirt, matched unimpressively with a pair of faded jeans and ragged-but-sturdy sneakers. Despite his unimposing apparel, Ethan exudes a dark and strangely attractive aura. He's the 'loner' type, keeping quietly to himself in the solace of his mind. The mystery boy standing idly in the corner.

But Ethan's most fascinating characteristic is also his most tragic: Ethan is an empath. Endowed with the uncanny ability to read and absorb the feelings and emotions of other sentient beings, empathy is as much a curse to Ethan as it is a gift. It is a force the young man struggles to suppress every day of his life for the sake of his own sanity; to block out the pleading sensitivities of every passing cry-for-help in every tormented soul.

Nonetheless, Ethan understands the usefulness of his abilities. Not only can the young man feel-out the sensations of others, but he can destroy them completely... by taking them upon himself. Grief, anger, insanity, addiction, and every pain be it physical or psychological... Ethan takes them all... and destroys himself piece by piece in doing so.

With no sense of purpose or direction, Ethan's life was in a downward spiral. The boy appeared destined to die a young man, until he was saved from an early grave by a Terran Militiaman. After assessing his power and determining his strength, they offered him a position among their ranks, promising him a new life and the training he needed to understand his abilities. With little alternative, Ethan agreed, eager to find his place in the world and master his wretched curse.

Equipment

Besides his casual attire, Ethan typically has his wallet on-hand, a meager supply of Terran credits available to him at any given time. His license is valid, and the boy is not smiling in his frame-picture. A small pocket-knife is usually accessible to him, confined safely somewhere in his jeans. Besides all of this, Ethan often carries a small notebook and ink pen in which he keeps a collections of hand-written poetry.

So begins...

Ethan Railee's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee entered Gambit's in a haste, staggering across the floor as he clumsily felt his way for the counter. The young man appeared to be breathing heavy; the slow, heaving metrenome of his movements suggesting he might be in great pain. Yet, there was no evidence of injury on the boy. Not so much as a single scratch.

Lifting his head up from the counter, the young man stared desperately into the holo-menu.

"...whiskey..." he rasped.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee 's hands shook as he clutched the pale glass of murky liquor... bringing the alcohol to his eager lips with unsteady efficiency.

"Dammit..." he whispered to himself after taking a few gulps, "...it's... it's not g-going away. Not as bad as b-before... b-b-but... still here... goddamn... g-g-god-d-damn..." The boy furiously returned to his drink, determined to take the whole thing at once. Maybe if he got drunk enough. Maybe.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee entered Gambit's in a haste, staggering across the floor as he clumsily felt his way for the counter. The young man appeared to be breathing heavy; the slow, heaving metrenome of his movements suggesting he might be in great pain. Yet, there was no evidence of injury on the boy. Not so much as a single scratch.

Lifting his head up from the counter, the young man stared desperately into the holo-menu.

"...whiskey..." he rasped.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee 's hands shook as he clutched the pale glass of murky liquor... bringing the alcohol to his eager lips with unsteady efficiency. He seemed to take no immediate notice of Jack, his eyes flitting to the slender looking man only once before turning back to his liquor like a drug-addict to his fix.

"Dammit..." he whispered to himself after taking a few gulps, "...it's... it's not g-going away. Not as bad as b-before... b-b-but... still here... goddamn... g-g-god-d-damn..." The boy furiously returned to his drink, determined to take the whole thing at once. Maybe if he got drunk enough. Maybe.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee chuckled hoarsely, his dark eyes downcast on the cracked wood of the counter as he accepted another drink with pathetic gratitude.

"...th-thanks," he mumbled, bringing the cold glass to his lips in an instant, his eyes glazing over in drunk ecstasy, "yeah that's-... that's better. I feel better. A lil'better, but it's-... yeah it's better. Yeah it's better. Yeah." The young man reclined wearily against the counter, lids half-drooping as he stared dumbly into the ceiling. The familiar tune put on by Ari wafted about his senses lovingly, bringing a quiet smile across the young man's face.

"...y'know I wrote another verse t'this song'unce..." he mumbled incoherently to Jack by his side, "...yehhhpp. It's my favr'ite Chris'mas song. Yep. So I added t'it. On m'guitar. I play acoustic, y'know. I'd play it fer'ya now if I had't pawned it a while back, yeah. Sold't. Needed food." Ethan coughed once, his gaze rolling over to Ari as she entered, frowning a bit as the young woman patiently ordered herself an impressive round of drinks.

"Awww..." Ethan continued to talk to Jack as if he had known the man his whole life, "...she's a lil' sad on th'inside, I think. Can't feel it like I used to cuz'o the drink. Yeh. But there's sum'in in'er she's not showin'. Yeh. Lil' bit o'uncertainty. I felt't before." Despite his drunken state, the young man took somewhat of a somber, graver tone. "...felt't like that kid back in th'slums who shoved a pistol up'is nose and blew his brains acr'ss his watchin' sister. Yeah. He didn't know what t'do so he just did it." He sighed. "Yep. He just did it."

"...an'THAT feller..." Ethan pointed humorously over at Daylon, "...he'jus pissed off."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee 's glazed eyes fell innocently on Ari, a dumb open-mouth smile forming innocently across his jaw. "Eth'n, miss. Eth'n Railee at yer'service, miss." The young man staggered out of his seat, his hand outstretched as he blindly attempted to greet the Ri'hen woman. The poor boy ended up tripping over the stool he was previously seated in, hitting the floor like a rock and scraping his right knee.

"Shhh..." he whispered to the injured knee, "...don'make so much noise! There'r people sleepin' y'know..." Ethan clutched at the nearby stool, daftly attempting to bring himself to his feet as he shot Hatchet a dirty glare, "MY problems? Lemme'tell ya man..." He chuckled darkly. "...my problems are YOUR problems. Yeah. Y'know? Yeah. He knows."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee took Ari's hand with a slight blush, quickly collecting himself in embarrassed haste. "...yes'm. Yer'prolly' right bout' that..." Ethan shook his head rapidly, quickly resuming his seat at the bar with a dazed expression. He listend shortly in-earnest to the short debate between Hatchet and Ari... before laughing to himself loudly.

"Th'fuck..." he giggled ceaselessness, "...th'fuck are y'talking about? Feelings..." He rested his head on the table. "...feelings aren't for manipu-" Ethan made a face. "...manipu-... manipu-LATE-ing..." He gasped, clearly exasperated. "God... that was a big word."

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Main Street

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee stood at the curb of the street, his hood cast over his eyes and his hands shoved as deep into his pockets as his jacket would allow. There was a slight drizzle this afternoon, and Ethan's breath escaped his throat in a short, jagged cadence. He was sick. And cold. And tired. And hungry. He had no money for medicine nor a place to stay for the day or even a small bit of food. His clothes, mucked with the smoggy city rain, looked more befitting on a smelly mendicant then a teenage boy.

"Guess I am sort of a mendicant, though..." Ethan shivered, comforting himself with sheer masochism. It was all he had left at this point. Everything else was gone.

Sitting out before the boy's tattered sneakers was a small paper cup. 'PLEASE HELP, GOD BLESS' read the small note stuck to its side. So far, the only thing filling the cup was rain.

The setting changes from Main Street to Gambit's Bar

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee practically stumbled into Gambit's Bar, knocking over three tables and two chairs in drunken stupor as he fumbled his way for the bar counter. The youth looked haggard at best, his thick raven hair a frenzied mess and his clothing tattered and torn.

The paper-baggied liquor bottled deftly handled in one of his hands didn't exactly give him any more of a 'professional' appearance then he already had. Indeed, it looked as if a mendicant had just walked into the bar. A teenage mendicant. They came younger every year, didn't they? Probably wasted his college funds on drugs and Bubblicious chewing gum. Damn kids...

"Wa..." he gaped at the holo-menu, squinting his eyes in shaky focus, as if it were the first time he'd ever seen the English character system. "...wahss thisss. Huh?" He turned swiftly, lazily eyeing the other patrons in the bar. "HUH? Who said that?!" He snorted. Or perhaps it was a hiccup. "Oh. Sorry. Never-... nevermind. Nevveerrrmaaainnndd."

He threw his face down on the bar counter.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee startled out of his slump as Erin approached him, his eyes first running the length of the girl's body before settling on her face in a suspicious glare. "Huh? 'Wah-TEHR'?" he snorted. His hands slapped the bar counter roughly. "Ya'think... ya'think I need 'WAH-TEHR?" the boy flat out cackled at this; a rough, clotted gargle that pounded into the ears reaked of cheap liquor. He flopped sideways on the counter like a posing supermodel, wagging a deft finger at Ex-General Walker.

"Dis... dis BROAD thinks ay'need wahtehr!" he laughed again, drawing his ragged hood over his eyes and down to his chin. "...guurrrllll... do ay'LOOHK like I need WAHTEHR?!" He was suddenly quite angry. His hood came off of his head, and he lunged forward in his stool, his bruised face red and stricken with unkempt fury.

"Whishkeh." He said at last. "Y...y-you meant whishkey." He blinked. Now he just seemed unsure of himself. The scarlet anger previously pluming on his face receded slowly. His meager features paled, and the boy all but slunk away from his previously aggressive mannerisms into a state of timid submission. "Just. Um. Yeah." His eyes were on the floor. "S-sum wishk... wiskey would b-be great."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"Yes it's... it's alright." he gulped now, his face sullen and quite suddenly miserable. "It's too late. It's all worked it's way out of my system now." A short, cringing twitch. "God... it happens more quickly each time." He staggered out of his stool. "I don't even have any money anyway. Not anymore. I'm sorry for..." The boy tripped over a stool, falling to the floor. He hardly seemed to notice. If he couldn't walk, he would crawl out of the bar.

"I'm sorry for..." he seemed to forget what he was going to say as he moved on his elbows and knees. He was careful to make eye contact with no one, pulling his hood even farther over his face. He did not seem embarressed. Only upset. As if he'd just remembered some horrible news he'd forgotten previously.

"Just. Sorry." He fled out of the bar.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Side Alley

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
From the smoggy shadows of a nearby alleyway, a young, pleading voice trembled. "Please. Please I need thi-"

"Of course you need it," an irritated, steady baritone, "you and every other deadbeat junkie this side of the block has to offer."

"Can't you just let me off this once? I swear, I'm going crazy. I just need it once. Just half a needle! Yeah! Not even the whole thing! I'll take the scraps if you want, just please, don't send me-"

"Would you shut the fuck up? You think I'm gonna' cut you a break just cuz' you're desperate and lil' younger then most? Fuck you man. You had no idea what I had to do to get this shit through the blockade."

Ethan Railee was practically on his knees, his grubbed fingers madly clutching the baggy cargo pants of his dealer. His face was pale, his teeth chattering in his mouth. A cold sweat ran down his spine. If he didn't get his Pattern fix now, he knew he would crash in the next half hour. He couldn't have that. For the last two weeks he'd been on a steady schedule. Drugs as often as he could spare them. Alcohol whenever he couldn't. But now the meager supply of cash he'd made freelancing his music at the local pub was all but spent. Ethan hardly had a hundred dollars to his name.

"Please, Halimer, I'm BEGGING you. I NEED this." His voice, clotted with mucus and riddled with pain, sounded unreasonably young. Surely he wasn't much older then sixteen. "I have ninety-three. Can I get nothing with ninety-three? NOTHING?"

The man known as Halimer only laughed. "Ninety-three? Fuck you, man. You can lick the needle for ninety-three. You think you can get an'off doing that? I bet you could. Fuckin' junkie scum." He scowled. "And get'cho fuckin' chump-ass fingers off my pants. Goddamnit, do you ever wash those things?"

"Please. Please. Please. Please." Ethan's head was bowed, his hands digging deeper into Halimer's cargos. He had lost all sense of emotional coherency. He was a starving child thrown out into a storming ocean. Hali

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
(...)Halimer was his only lifeboat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"I said stop fucking touching my fucking pants, dickhead," Halimer growled, his knee shooting out and slamming against Ethan's forehead. Unable to even look up, the defenseless junkie crumpled quickly to the ground. His deft hands fought briefly to find balance on the mucky cement, but quickly faltered. Ethan simply had no strength left. He lay on the cold floor, half-lidded eyes barely seeing anything at all, his mouth struggling to form even the simplest of consonants.

"Hmph. Junkie shit." Halimer grinned, taking some satisfaction in seeing Ethan's defeated state. He'd been putting up with him for the past week because he'd had cash. Now that he was dry, Railee was just another pathetic addict without a fix. "How much did you say you had on ya, huh? Ninety-three was it?"

The figure beneath him nodded weakly. It took nearly all of Ethan's energy just to keep breathing.

"Heh. Better hand it over. You won't be needin' it anyway. You got it bad, kid, I can see it. Be goin' pale soon. Cold and pale." He smiled, a toothy, careless grin. "And since I ain't giving you you're fix, I guess you're just gonna lay there, huh? Just gonna keel over and die like a dog, ain't that right? Yeah. That's just like you. Just like a junkie fuckhead. Yeah."

Ethan lay still, his eyes wide, his pupils shrunk. The boy's fingers twitched and flexed. Some vague understanding of his current situation was slowly forcing its way into his drug-infested mind.

"I might even put you outa your misery myself," Halimer licked his lips. "you ain't got long, son. I've seen this before. Yeah." He cocked his head. "You a cute lil' one, though. Cute lil' white-boy sonuva' bitch. Might have some fun with'ya first. Yeah. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Lil' bitch..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Halimer stooped down, resting his elbows on his knees. He reached into his jacket, holding up a large syringe for Ethan's viewing pleasure. A strange, pink liquid floated lazily inside.

"Yeah, this is what you want, huh? Right junkie bitch?" He twirled the injection between his fingers. Ethan moaned in approval.

"I'll tell you what, junkie bitch," Halimer smiled, "if you can pick your fuckin' scrawny ass off the ground and touch this shit, right now, I'll give it to you for free. Sound good? Go on. It ain't hard."

Ethan gasped, the pressing matter of his next fix assuming command of his thoughts. He eyed the pink vial like a dog watches a piece of meat, his whole attention unblinkingly devoted to it. God how he needed it. And all he had to do was get up! That's all he had to do.

"...uuuahhnnggnn..." Ethan whimpered, his hands numbly grasping at the empty air. His meager muscles flexed. His legs twitched. His skull lifted two inches off the ground before hitting the concrete again. "...pppllll..." he could hardly speak, his eyes wrinkling shut. Wet tears rolled down his cheeks. "Please... please... please..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"Yeah, just like that bitch. Beg. Fucking beg for it." Halimer's teeth were grit in primal satisfaction, jeering at the pitiful junkie in purely sadomasochistic delight. "God. What a fucking dog." Without any warning, the dealer's fist shot out, slamming into Ethan's groin with an audible, sickening 'fwop'.

"Ohhhh... ohhh my god..." Railee sputtered, his back arching, his hands shooting down to the pain. The young boy gaped, struggling to find the strength to scream. With no means of escape and no way to defend himself, Ethan was entirely at Halimer's mercy. He cringed and curled into a fetal position, praying to whatever listening God that the dealer's anguish would be abated. That he would walk away now in his dominance. That Ethan would be allowed to live.

No such luck.

"Yeah, I like that, bitch," the dealer advanced slowly, "don't worry bout those. You won't be needin' balls. Not with me, anyway." The man climbed atop Ethan quickly, his jutting groin pressed against the junkie's thigh. "You feel that, bitch?" Halimer taunted. "We gonna' have some fun. Yeah, thas'right. We gonna' have a good time before I kill you. S'all you're good for anyway. Junkie bitch."

Ethan did his best to turn away from Halimer, but it was easy to see that he was incapable of putting up much of a fight. He could hardly move his arms. A wave of unkempt terror washed over him as the situation settled into his the deepest corners of his psyche. He could taste the dealer's putrid breath on his tongue... the foul mass of his diseased body bearing down on his own... his crude manhood throbbing against his leg.

The setting changes from Side Alley to Wing City

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
From the smoggy shadows of a nearby alleyway, a young, pleading voice trembled. "Please. Please I need thi-"

"Of course you need it," an irritated, steady baritone, "you and every other deadbeat junkie this side of the block has to offer."

"Can't you just let me off this once? I swear, I'm going crazy. I just need it once. Just half a needle! Yeah! Not even the whole thing! I'll take the scraps if you want, just please, don't send me-"

"Would you shut the fuck up? You think I'm gonna' cut you a break just cuz' you're desperate and lil' younger then most? Fuck you man. You had no idea what I had to do to get this shit through the blockade."

Ethan Railee was practically on his knees, his grubbed fingers madly clutching the baggy cargo pants of his dealer. His face was pale, his teeth chattering in his mouth. A cold sweat ran down his spine. If he didn't get his Pattern fix now, he knew he would crash in the next half hour. He couldn't have that. For the last two weeks he'd been on a steady schedule. Drugs as often as he could spare them. Alcohol whenever he couldn't. But now the meager supply of cash he'd made freelancing his music at the local pub was all but spent. Ethan hardly had a hundred dollars to his name.

"Please, Halimer, I'm BEGGING you. I NEED this." His voice, clotted with mucus and riddled with pain, sounded unreasonably young. Surely he wasn't much older then sixteen. "I have ninety-three. Can I get nothing with ninety-three? NOTHING?"

The man known as Halimer only laughed. "Ninety-three? Fuck you, man. You can lick the needle for ninety-three. You think you can get an'off doing that? I bet you could. Fuckin' junkie scum." He scowled. "And get'cho fuckin' chump-ass fingers off my pants. Goddamnit, do you ever wash those things?"

"Please. Please. Please. Please." Ethan's head was bowed, his hands digging deeper into Halimer's cargos. He had lost all sense of emotional coherency. He was a starving child thrown out into a storming ocean.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
....Halimer was his only lifeboat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"I said stop fucking touching my fucking pants, dickhead," Halimer growled, his knee shooting out and slamming against Ethan's forehead. Unable to even look up, the defenseless junkie crumpled quickly to the ground. His deft hands fought briefly to find balance on the mucky cement, but quickly faltered. Ethan simply had no strength left. He lay on the cold floor, half-lidded eyes barely seeing anything at all, his mouth struggling to form even the simplest of consonants.

"Hmph. Junkie shit." Halimer grinned, taking some satisfaction in seeing Ethan's defeated state. He'd been putting up with him for the past week because he'd had cash. Now that he was dry, Railee was just another pathetic addict without a fix. "How much did you say you had on ya, huh? Ninety-three was it?"

The figure beneath him nodded weakly. It took nearly all of Ethan's energy just to keep breathing.

"Heh. Better hand it over. You won't be needin' it anyway. You got it bad, kid, I can see it. Be goin' pale soon. Cold and pale." He smiled, a toothy, careless grin. "And since I ain't giving you you're fix, I guess you're just gonna lay there, huh? Just gonna keel over and die like a dog, ain't that right? Yeah. That's just like you. Just like a junkie fuckhead. Yeah."

Ethan lay still, his eyes wide, his pupils shrunk. The boy's fingers twitched and flexed. Some vague understanding of his current situation was slowly forcing its way into his drug-infested mind.

"I might even put you outa your misery myself," Halimer licked his lips. "you ain't got long, son. I've seen this before. Yeah." He cocked his head. "You a cute lil' one, though. Cute lil' white-boy sonuva' bitch. Might have some fun with'ya first. Yeah. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Lil' bitch..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Halimer stooped down, resting his elbows on his knees. He reached into his jacket, holding up a large syringe for Ethan's viewing pleasure. A strange, pink liquid floated lazily inside.

"Yeah, this is what you want, huh? Right junkie bitch?" He twirled the injection between his fingers. Ethan moaned in approval.

"I'll tell you what, junkie bitch," Halimer smiled, "if you can pick your fuckin' scrawny ass off the ground and touch this shit, right now, I'll give it to you for free. Sound good? Go on. It ain't hard."

Ethan gasped, the pressing matter of his next fix assuming command of his thoughts. He eyed the pink vial like a dog watches a piece of meat, his whole attention unblinkingly devoted to it. God how he needed it. And all he had to do was get up! That's all he had to do.

"...uuuahhnnggnn..." Ethan whimpered, his hands numbly grasping at the empty air. His meager muscles flexed. His legs twitched. His skull lifted two inches off the ground before hitting the concrete again. "...pppllll..." he could hardly speak, his eyes wrinkling shut. Wet tears rolled down his cheeks. "Please... please... please..."

The setting changes from Wing City to Main Street

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee had been given a new pair of clothes. A form-fitting button-up shirt. A pair of jeans. A shiny 'Militia' badge, featuring the three interlocked loops. He wore it well, if not indistinguishably. With his slightly-hunched posture and unimposing figure, Ethan wasn't a particularly striking boy, even if he might have been handsome in a boyish sense.

But after being part of the Militia for only a month, he was already being asked to go on recruitment missions. At first he wasn't sure what to say. Why him? What experience did he have in all of this? How could he possibly determine whether or not someone would make a good officer?

And then it had hit him without anyone even saying anything. He was the PERFECT recruitment officer... whether he liked it or not.

Ethan quickly recognized Shei from her profile. Walking over to her booth, he slid awkwardly into the seat across from her.

"Miss Lin?" he seemed quite unsure of himself, "uhm. You... ARE Shai Lin, right?" He was suddenly aware that he was at risk of appearing racist if this woman wasn't who he thought she was.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"Uh. Nice to meet you," Ethan gulped, surprised to find her so young. She didn't look much older then he was. How did she know her name? Perhaps the Militia had told her the name of her 'handler.'

With supreme hesitancy, Ethan extended his hand to the girl from across the table, nearly withdrawing it twice as he contemplated what the most formal greeting would be. "Yeah. I'll be your interrogater-" he gulped, "I-I mean, recruitment officer." He relaxed a bit. "Yeah. That sounds nicer."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Ethan Railee would, in fact, not have allowed Shei to release his hand. The poor boy death-gripped her digits, his face draining of blood as Lin displayed her incredible powers. Only after the room had returned to normal did Ethan release her limb, a small bit of blood returning to his cheeks. The empath was, frankly, scared shitless.

"That." He stammered, hardly breathing. He swallowed twice, his mouth unbearably dry. "Don't do that again. Please." He moved a shaking hand towards his pockets, retrieving a small notepad and pen.

Combat Proficiency: Very.

"Alright. Uhm. Let's just... keep things..." his voice quivered, "...normal? Yeah. That was cool, the whole mind thing... but... you don't need to..." He cleared his throat. "Yes. Um. Well." He brought his gaze reluctantly back towards Shei.

"Wh-Why. Why do you want to join the Militia?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Some of the fear left Ethan's features as she spoke of his power. How did she know? THAT certainly hadn't been on the info-report.

"I have not reached for your mind yet," he spoke slowly, as if considering each word as he said it, "I don't like to. If I go too quickly, I might know too much." He drew a haggard breath. "I might go too far." Railee had only just learned how to prevent himself from feeling EVERY passing emotion from EVERY passing stranger. It was an enormous relief, not having to feel the pain of others all the time. Now, he needed to hone his power... focus it on one specific individual.

"May I, then?" he cleared his throat, offering her his hands, "physical contact helps." He tried to muster his courage, attempting to look brave and calm. THIS was the reason he'd been chosen. If Shei had any malevolent intentions for joining the Militia, even so much as an INKLING of ill-intent, Ethan would know. His grasp of sentient passion was absolute, even if it was unstable.

"I also would like to ask you," he nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, "if this... if this is okay with you. I won't go through your head without your permission." He kept his hands extended. "Just. When you're ready. IF you're ready."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ethan Railee
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Before delving into her thoughts, Ethan would take her hands in a soft, caress, his touch warm and comforting.

"Hey," he said quietly, beckoning for her attention. He looked gently at her, his eyes welling with understanding, "it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." He nodded his head. "I'm not going to take them from you." Ethan didn't need to be an empath to know how she must be feeling right now. A human's mind was a sacred place. For all his insecurities, Railee was no defiler.

Closing his eyes, Ethan began his search, struggling to focus himself on Shei and Shei alone. He began with the easiest emotions to seek out: the passions, beginning with joy. Always best to begin on a good note. Shei might feel a sudden surge of inexplicable happiness as Ethan gently sifted through her feelings, searching out all the joy-related reasons she might have for joining the Militia.