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Tristan

0 · 1,225 views · located in The Hidden Glen

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by ShatteredSoul, as played by Smurfette

Description

Image
Experiment name: A-16
Real name: Tristan
Age: 11 though so short and malnourished he appears to be about 6 or 7.
Skin: pale and sickly
He has a long scar running across his forehead from a lab experiment that caused him to ignite himself in flame and singed his forehead worst of all.

His aging process:
Teenager(minus the blue eyes):


Young Adult:

Personality

He is shy and timid, and generally hiding and in fits of fear. When he has blackouts from over-emotion, his eyes change to a maroon shade with stripes of golden green. He is the reincarnation of Kogarth, so when he blacks out Kogarth is the one whose attitude and outlook take over, that being most clear in his eyes. Though Tristan doesn't even realize this.

So begins...

Tristan's Story

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#, as written by Smurfette
He felt his skip a beat and thump to a near screeching halt. "You... what?"

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#, as written by Smurfette
"They didn't see me. And they were well on their way to the other side of town by the time I was in the bar." she reassured him. "We just need to go wherever it is we need to be."

The setting changes from Main Street to Gambit's Bar

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#, as written by Smurfette
His hair was matted to his forehead, dirt splattered over his body, and his chest heaving. He reached forward, gently taking Melissa's hand in his own with a reassuring squeeze as he instinctively looked around, making sure the coast was clear. "What now?" He breathed in her ear, searching her eyes. "What is this place?"

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#, as written by Smurfette
"He did it on purpose." He told her in a whisper as he wrapped his arms firmly around her shoulders. "He knew he wouldn't make it on the outside... because of his vision... He didn't tell us, and the thought didn't even cross my mind..."

He idly looked around the inside of this strange place they were in, absorbing a rather putrid smell as he squinted to see better in the dim lighting.

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#, as written by Smurfette
"I know..." He breathed, gently rubbing her arm. "I knw.

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#, as written by Smurfette
It sucked that she was right, completely and irrefutably right, and what sucked worse was that they didn't even have time to brainstorm. The bar door opened, and an armed man stepped inside, the logo from the facility neatly printed across his chest as he approached the bar counter and began speaking in a low tone to the bar man.

"Meli..." Tristan hissed, scooting himself to sit lower in the seat as he met her eyes. "We need to go. We need..." he paused, biting his lip as he met her eyes. "We need to split up, it'll be harder to catch us if we're running in two different directions."

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to The Ruins

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#, as written by Smurfette
Image With his hands slung deep in the pockets of a pair of loose jeans, the slim, tall young man idly paced down the sidewalk, his head down and his cropped hair dangling over his crimson eyes. His t-shirt hung loosely over his cool skin, and goose-bumps were trailing his exposed skin. He was sporting a freshly bruised right eye, something that had happened that was out of his own control and that was entirely unintentional by his own behalf.

Heaving a long, heavy sigh, he lifted his head, crossing the street towards the park as a cool breeze blew over him. He heard voices, and instinctively he dove to the nearest picnic table, sitting down and lifting his arms to hide his face between them as he pressed his fingers through the back of his hair.

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#, as written by Smurfette
Breathing heavily, Tristan closed his eyes, forcing himself to start to relax. Hearing approaching footfalls, he chanced to open one eye, staring at the girl that approached and passed him. She looked just like... No. That was impossible. She was gone, gone for good and he'd never see her again. Right?

Swallowing past a lump in his throat, Tristan rose to his feet, wringing his gloved hands together as he slowly caught up to the girl. "Uhm..." he forced, his throat constricting. God, her face... "Excuse me?"

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#, as written by Smurfette
His lungs froze, all air entering and leaving his body turning into a solid as he stared at her, his eyes locking with hers. His mouth opened, closed, opened, closed, no sound came out though. A year and a half, five hundred forty seven days, since he'd last seen her, and then... well, they both looked completely different now.

"Meli..." He choked, his mouth remaining open. "I..."

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#, as written by Smurfette
Stumbling backwards, Tristan fought to maintain his balance before he gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He wanted to believe it, desperately so, but... the Facility was cold, cruel, twisted. He had to be sure. Gently, he clasped her shoulders, removing her from his neck and shoving her backward as his eyes hardened. "Prove it's you." He growled, his lip quivering. "Prove it."

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#, as written by Smurfette
Half way through her explanation, his arms slipped from her shoulders, and when she did finish he took half a step backward, dropping to one knee as he fought to remind himself how to breathe. His eyes flooded, vision blurring as he brought a hand up and pressed his fingers to his chest, shaking his head lightly.

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#, as written by Smurfette
"Meli..." he breathed out, his voice constricted and trembling. "But... how?"

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#, as written by Smurfette
"I'm glad." He told her quietly, a half smile crossing his lips. "Hey... you ever had cake before? Like, real cake?" He sat back a bit, spreading his legs in front of him before he touched her hand.

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#, as written by Smurfette
Shrugging slightly, Tristan lifted a hand and ran it through his hair. "I don't even know." He told her honestly. "Anywhere secluded and hidden really, I guess. I don't really know what to do so... I guess I've just been kind of winging it." He pointed to his eye, forcing a smile. "As you can see, it doesn't always work out right."

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#, as written by Smurfette
"Seems to me like you don't have to wing it." He said, closing his eye as she touched his cheek. "You said you're well looked after, after all." He paused, drawing a slow breath. "I thought I caught a glimpse of one once, but he was after some guy for something called 'jay-walking'. Whatever that is..."

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#, as written by Smurfette
He bit his lip, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment as he diverted his gaze. Nothing on the outside was quite like he'd imagined it, and it was far from what he was used to. He scooted forward a little, throwing his arms around her tightly and pulling her against his chest, his face burrowing into her shoulder as he drew a deep breath.

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#, as written by Smurfette
"I can't do this on my own." He muttered against her shoulder. "I don't know what I'm doing or how, and I can't even figure out how I've lasted this long."

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#, as written by Smurfette
"You said you're with some group though," he murmured, searching her eyes. "What makes you think they'd just some new, random kid join in?"

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#, as written by Smurfette
Io... the name hadn't even crossed his mind since they'd escaped. It made his chest clench. "Io..." He breathed, his eyes hitting the ground.

The setting changes from The Ruins to The Hidden Glen

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#, as written by Smurfette
His lithe frame was covered with a pair of worn jeans- rips in the knees and minor nicks along the calves- and a plain, fitting, white crew-neck tee. Aged brown work gloves protected his hands, and a comfortable pair of running sneakers were laced up on his feet.

Faded crimson eyes looked around the area of the Glen, taking in its beauty, its serenity, as a cool breeze gently mussed his ear-lobe length black hair. "So quiet." He murmured to himself idly as he shuffled his feet along the grass, his gaze flicking to the sky briefly. "And so nice out."

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