Dialogue Color – #724D58

Thought Color – #A394AE

Name
Phoenix Young
Nicknames/Aliases
N/A
Gender
Male
Age
21
Sexual Orientation
Biromantic ; Bisexual
Birthday
July 29
Hometown
Convolvulus Town, Atlea

Hair
Black in color, Phoenix’s hair is rather spiky in appearance, a bit lengthier, and wild and uncontrollable. Believe him when he says he’s tried, there’s hardly anything that works.
Eyes
His eyes are rather odd - one moment they hold a grey tone, the next they might look a vibrant blue. It typically just depends on the lighting. Sometimes they seem almost unreable.
Height
5’10”
Weight
122 lbs
Body Build/Shape
Underweight, Slightly Lanky
Attire
His attire varies quite a bit, but typically he wears darker clothing, black, maybe some white mixed in. He enjoys a black jacket that he always has with him, that’s always on unless he’s at the office, and a very loose, white shirt that he finds himself adjusting rather often. Black pants follow these, simple, more on the loose side, comortable with the scarring and piercings. A pair of shoes are always worn, though whatever they are switch from day to day.
Due to insecurity over his appearance, Phoenix often wears a black face mask to help cover up most of his facial scarring. It simply makes him feel a little more comfortable and less attention grabbing to those he passes by. He usually takes it off in places he feels safe or comfortable in.
Tattoos and Piercings
A rather excessive amount, though he doesn’t really care. He has about four cuffs on the sides of both his ears. More lay along the edges of the scarring on his eyes, along the line that arrives at the corners of his lips, over his chest, his hands, his legs...everywhere. Though...those are less decorative and more for...comfort, necessity.
Notable Scars
Look at him. Do you see his face? His hands? His back? His legs? His chest? You can’t see Phoenix without seeing the endless amount of scars that litter his body. They lay under his eyes, cover his ears, curl down to the corners of his lips, stretch from his jawline, his chin, down his neck, over his chest and around his collarbones, down his back. It stretches from his upper arms to the tops of his hands, from the top of his feet, his left reaching just past his knee, his right curling to the outside, up his hip. He hates all of them.
Face Claim
Dabi - Boku no Hero Academia

Personality
[ Quiet, Honest, Loyal, Awkward, Unstable ]
A rather obvious first quality of Phoenix would be the fact that he's so quiet. Whether that's just because he's nervous or shy, or because he's just not much a talker is up for debate. He tends to keep his mouth closed when talking with someone for the first time, occasionally saying something if he feels the need or to be polite, but seemingly preferring if the other person will take the most of the conversation into their own hands. Of course, as he warms up to others or if they're warm enough to him at first meeting, he'll let himself speak more, without the discomfort or insecurity he usually seems to have.
Playing a bit into his awkward side, or maybe because he was always required to be entirely honest with the people who had made him what he is now unless he wished to face worse consequences, Phoenix is known to be entirely honest, perhaps even on the blunt side at times. Despite being quiet, it's typically unlikely that he'll hold back his thoughts when speaking, more so when his opinion is required. If people ask questions about him, he'll answer without hesitating on any of the information (though over some time the people over him have worked to get him to keep at least some of his more private information to himself). There is, however, an exception to this. He'll keep the secrets others leave with him, or information they want private, the best he can. He's honest...
...but he's loyal too. Trust is something he values greatly, something he wasn't always lucky enough to have, and he's not about to break something so important...so fragile, that someone has left with him. He'll hold their secrets, their insecurities, anything they confide in him inside, and no, he won't give it no matter what someone might try or how much they could push. Phoenix will also stick by the side of those he's loyal to, and refuses to abandon anyone for the sake of himself (it happened once, and he won't let it again). This all, of course, applies so long as you have his trust in you as well. (He has...been compared to a dog before, which he's not sure he likes much).
Perhaps because of the years he was stuck with his two (separate) abductors, Phoenix can be seen occasionally as rather awkward, at least in a social aspect. He often misses cues that most people would find obviously or catch onto quickly, tends to trip over his words, feels anxious and insecure around large groups, can be much too honest, and every once in awhile, he fails to recognize certain emotions from the people around him or those he's speaking to. It can create rather...uncomfortable situations, and once he realizes it, he'll kick himself in his shins and quickly try and clean up or correct any problems he's caused, or simply offer an apologize and quickly shut up to prevent himself from making it worse than it already is. It stresses him out, thinking he may have caused issues between him and another, or ruined a chance at becoming (better) friends with someone. Hence why he often...doesn't talk much when he first meets a stranger. He's gotten better over the last several years, but it's still a struggle
A final, but rather unsurprising trait, is the fact that Phoenix is...unstable. Emotionally, mentally, he struggles...too much. He's known to have emotional breakdowns rather often, falling apart in places that are probably not the best to do as such in, like work, out in the streets, in public in general. Of course, he'll do his best to hold it in until he can get somewhere more private, but it doesn't always work out (which he finds...humiliating). He does try to at least let there be a release when he's home alone, but there are triggers outside of there that will throw him over the edge. Normally, Phoenix's breakdowns just consist of...a lot of shaking, crying, sometimes hyperventilation, palpitations, nausea...but sometimes, they can turn aggressive, and leave him lashing out at the people around him.

Strengths

• Pain Tolerance – Pheonix has an abnormally high pain tolerance. Most things won't bother him too badly. Of course, that doesn't mean he's okay with pain or being hurt.
• Enhanced Senses – It's the Houndoom side of him that plays in here, but he's got heightened hearing and sense of smell. This can be nice for tracking, or for listening in on things that may be important.
• Honesty – He doesn't think much about not putting out the full truth for people when it involves himself, so if someone asks him, they'll be getting everything.

Weaknesses

• Noise – Loud noises or too much noise often gives him migraines and bad headaches, and can even cause him pain (he very much dislikes guns, for example. The sound of it shooting causes terrible pain if he's nearby, and often leaves his ears ringing or him going a bit weak from the shock).
• Smell – Strong smells or too many smells leave him feeling nauseous and can also give him the migraines/headaches, so he prefers avoiding places that might have air as such (for example, if he were to go to a perfume store, he'd have to throw up within several seconds of being stuck there).
• Instability – He is not stable...mentally or emotionally. It shows itself through the breakdowns he'll have.

Fears

• Claustrophobic – A trigger from the past. He can't stand feeling stuck, or being stuck in small spaces.
• Restraints – A trigger from the past. Whenever he's pinned, tied, stuck, he can't handle it.
• The Dark – Another trigger from the past. Maybe a bit on the childish side but...the very much hates the dark, and often has to have at least a dim light on when he's alone.
• Anything Medical - The final major trigger from his past. Needles, medication he's not familiar with and hasn't taken before, hell, there are times when even white lab coats will throw him into flashbacks of the past, or drop him into breakdowns or anxiety attacks.

Family
Mother - Adelaide Young - Deceased
Father - Elijah Young - Living; Imprisoned
Adoptive Father - Jensen Rosner - Living

History
July 28th, a hot summer day in Atlea. A small hospital in the middle of Convolvulus Town, the first born of the Young couple.

His mom had said he hadn’t cried much when he was born, that he was quiet, sweet, the most precious being she’d ever laid her eyes on. He was a blessing in her life, and she loved him the moment she laid eyes on him.

She’d said she’d simply sat and watched as he slept, cradled him in her arms, sang songs to lull him back to sleep when he started getting fussy again. She said when he first started babbling, she would babble back for what felt like hours, and she loved every moment of it.

His first word was “Mama.” She said she’d almost cried when she’d heard it.

She’d told him he took awhile longer to start walking, but when he began he was by far the strongest out of all the others his age.

She’d said that he always preferred being with her, and even though she would push him to go out and play with the others, it meant the world to her.

He apparently had liked to watch her cook, something he could vaguely remember in his deeply buried memories.

It was…hard, to think about his mother. But he couldn’t help the occasional moments, even if they only brought the progression to his breakdowns faster. The pain that followed wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking of her ever again.

The farthest memories he could recall would be spotty, here and there, from when he was six, maybe seven, but they were vague. His mother’s gentle voice, the heat from outside as she, him, and sometimes his father worked in their small garden. The Pokémon that occasionally flew into the trees growing around town, or the neighbors’ pet Pokémon that he loved playing with. Going to the markets with his mother, begging for the candies lined up around them, and her usually giving in to getting him some.

The most vivid memory he can recall from his earlier years was that of him and his parents taking a trip to Cacalia City, to visit for a week during their midsummer festivals. The bright colors, the big crowds, the endless stands that had countless things, food, glass figures, dolls, blankets, clothes, name anything and there probably would have been a place holding it.

His mother had bought him a raincoat, bright blue, with the hood designed as a Vaporeon’s head, and simple illustrations of Vaporeon etched around the bottom of it.

He could recall the small, glass Mareep his mother had placed in his hands when they’d stopped to look at it, and the careful hold he’d kept on it for the rest of the day.

When they’d arrived to where they were staying, he could remember jumping around on the beds until his mother had to force him into bed to sleep so they both could as well. Even then it took two or three times, and he can remember the exhaustion on her face, but it wasn’t as if he fully understood why they were so eager to sleep.

His most familiar memories began when he was eight. A year before his life fell to pieces.

He wasn’t so sure his memories before then were the most positive either, but at least his mother was still there. He could…keep more positive with that.

It was around this age that his parents began fighting more, though usually he would go outside or sit in his room while it was going on. He never quite caught the words of what they were fighting over.

He’d been told later, that it was probably something over financial problems. He wouldn’t have understood it much even if he’d heard it then, it seemed.

Sometimes he’d hear his mother crying, and there were times when he’d simply stay hiding in his room, but most of the time he couldn’t help but go out to her, sometimes bring a blanket, or something to give her that made him happy, so surely it would make her feel better. It was usually returned with a tight hug, a hand on the back of his head, a kiss on the top, and then as she pulled away she had stopped crying. Thinking about it now, she had probably forced herself to make him feel better too.

He and his mother would often go out together in those days as well, even if it was just for a walk, or for a visit at the neighbors’ or a different friends’. He found it fun, it meant he could get out of the house and see his friends.

There were times, though, when he caught conversation between his mother and the friend.

”I don’t know what I’m going to do.” ”He keeps talking about divorce.” ”I don’t make enough to take care of Phoenix on my own.” ”I think he might be cheating on me.” ”He keeps coming home later than usual.” ”What if he leaves us?”

Phoenix wished he’d just left. It would have made things better.

maybe put more details or things in between here…?

He could remember, vividly, the day his world ended.

It was November, the twentieth. He was nine, had been nine for four months. It had been a quiet day for the most part, his father out for the time being, his mother reading a book in the small chair in the living room. He’d been drawing at the table for most of the time being home.

8:50 was when the first sounds of someone trying to break in were heard. From the back door, in their fenced yard. It had startled his mother, her head snapping up from her book as it dropped to the floor. Phoenix just stared.

Perhaps it was fear that had them stuck in their spots for some time longer, but several loud, odd sounding bangs on the wood had his mother jumping up from her seat, a hand reaching out for Phoenix before taking tight hold of his hand. He hardly had time to process before he was being dragged from his seat, and into the house’s laundry room

She’d dropped his hand for just moments once the door was shut, and only to prop things up against the door - chairs, boxes, clothes, as if any of it would help to keep whoever was coming out.

A quick run over to the corner and she’d returned to him, the only light in the dark for the time being being her phone. She’d placed it up against her ear within seconds.

He could vaguely hear a voice on the other line, before his mother was quick to reply, jumbled, stammered, he could feel her fear, her panic.

”Someone’s trying to - someone’s trying to break into our home, it-“

It was then that a loud crack sounded through the home, and no later Phoenix’s sobs began.

His mother had wrapped her arm tighter around him then, her head carefully resting on the top of his, ”sh-shhh, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay, don’t cry, don’t cry, it’s okay…”

Part of him was sure that the only reason they found them both so quickly was because of his crying. Why hadn’t he just shut up?

The sound of three people was what he could hear in total, and two of them were already making their way down the hall. His mother’s hold got tighter, his breathing faster. The distant sound of the woman speaking on the other end continued, even though she wasn’t receiving a reply.

Their steps were heavy, rushed, moving throughout the house.

A door was thrown open nearby.

He could hear muffled speaking.

The knob to their room rattled.

She stopped breathing.

The rattling stopped only for a moment, but no later the sound of someone slamming themselves up against the door could be heard, and then-

Everything toppled up against it clattered onto the floor, the door slamming open, and Phoenix’s screams began.

It was a tall woman who entered the room, pale skin with shoulder length purple hair, dressed as if she were off to some sort of business meeting, or heading home from one. Her eyes were the same color as her hair, but dark, angry, terrifying.

He could remember his mother’s screams, the ”stay away!” and her curling around him, but in the end it did nothing.

A single gunshot silenced her.

A hard hit to his head darkened his world.

And he’d lost everything within mere minutes.


He’d felt sick, when he’d woken up next. His head was…pounding, it was hard to see, everything ached.

All he could do at first was lay, stare at the darkened ceiling, try and recollect his thoughts. How had he gotten here? Why wasn’t he home? Why did everything hurt so badly? Where was Mom?

He…half wished he would have been lost in the confusion for longer, but it wasn’t as if he could control everything.

Recollection of the events before surfaced all at once, and he wasn’t sure he could even recall all the emotions he felt in that moment. Fear, pain, his heart hurt, his head hurt, his eyes burned, his chest felt tight, his throat ached, and yet he managed to get a scream through, loud, long, mixed with sobs that turned harsh, hurt, nothing felt right.

It felt like ages that he simply fell apart on the floor, rolling, shaking his head as if it would wake him, as if this were some terrible nightmare. But it wasn’t just in his head - this was reality, even though at eight years old it wasn’t quite something he really could comprehend.

Even in the present he could recall the same feelings he’d had, vividly. So horrific, so terrible, it felt as if the emotions could have killed him. He wished they would have killed him. Anything would have been better than going through that hell.

He didn’t sleep, at first. Couldn’t. Not when the memories of his mother’s screams, of her death returned whenever he closed his eyes. Not when his feelings still writhed inside him. Not when the only place he had to rest was the cold, concrete floor, and the silence of the cage, of the room he was stuck in.

But eventually he would get used to it. Eventually the feelings would fade, turn to almost nothing. Eventually the concrete floor would feel normal. Eventually he wouldn’t wake from his nightmares screaming, terrified. Why would he, when his waking moments were just as terrible?

He lost track of time in his cell, quickly. Without windows to shed light, or clocks hanging on the wall, he had no idea whether it was night or day, or how long had passed. But it felt like eternities.

It took some time before he saw the first person since waking up. Maybe two days? Three? More? His aching stomach and thirst said as such.

He was a tall man, much taller than his father, his mother, anyone he really knew at the time. He looked much thinner than his dad, though, and paler too. His hair was as long as his mom’s had been, just at his chin line, and held a similar shade to Phoenix’s and his mother’s own hair color as well. His eyes looked tired, strained, like he would be ready to sleep as soon as he laid down, but he would hardly be heading there anytime soon.

Phoenix could remember the moment those eyes laid on him - cold, cruel, heartless. Even as he stared at the child in the cage, he saw nothing more than an object.

It was a look Phoenix would grow all too accustomed to.

He’d strode over to the cage bars all too casually for the moment, white lab coat flaring out behind him. The air felt heavy…or, heavier, with him in the room.

For a moment the silence just settled back in. Phoenix was the first to break it.

He found his voice weaker than expected, but it was still heard, even as it shook, even as he felt his eyes burning again, and a lump forming in his throat, ”h-help me…I want…I want to go ho-ome…!”

The silence, save his quiet sniffling, settled again, before the man’s lips turned into a slight smile.

Cruel.

”Oh, that won’t do. You have no home anymore.” A quiet breath left the man, before he moved himself down into a crouching position, a hand reaching through the bars to take hold of his chin. A slight tilt brought his gaze up to face him. ”How does it feel, to be here? To know, to have the knowledge that your own father was the one that did this to you?”

In the moment, he hardly understood what the man was talking about. His father did this to him? Why would he?

He’d realize what it all meant soon enough.

The man’s words only returned his own sobs, in which his expression turned to something like disgust and he was quick to retreat back, letting go and shoving his hands into the pockets of the coat.

”Do stop your crying, please. It’ll only give everyone here a headache.” A sigh passed, before he turned around, moving his way to the wall. A small plate Phoenix hadn’t noticed before laid there, and he was quick to lift it. ”Besides, it makes it harder to want to care for you when you’re acting so ridiculous.”

He didn’t stop.

Mutters escaped the man as he turned back around, leaning down to push the plate through a rather small opening at the bottom. It scraped against the ground, but as it finally reached a clear viewpoint for him, he realized it was food. Not exactly his mother’s home cooked meals, but in his young self’s hunger, it looked plenty fine.

Phoenix didn’t wait so long, crawling over to where it sat and trying to force down his sobs again. He was starving.

Carefully he took hold of the small piece of bread on the plate, cupping it in his hands before taking a small bite as his sniffling continued. It tasted…stale, but he didn’t care.

An airy laugh left the man, his chin tilting up slightly before he had turned away from Phoenix once more, making his way back to where he’d appeared from.

”Don’t get too used to this, brat. It’ll be changing soon enough.”

At the time he hardly understood what he meant, was too focused on the food as well, but it would make plenty sense soon enough.

Worse. It would become so much worse here.

The next several days, he figured at least, went on like normal. He was never let out of his cell, in which he’d began pacing back and forth in, and often throughout the day he found himself sobbing over confusion and fear, and a pain in his chest that he couldn’t figure out. Three times throughout the day someone would appear, occasionally the man from before, other times unfamiliar people, to give him a plate of food. It was the same thing each time - he grew sick of it quickly.

It was…fifteen meals later that things changed.

He’d been startled awake by the sound of the cell door opening, and as his eyes attempted to adjust, he found himself staring up at a new man. He seemed about average in height, brown-purple hair, weird eyes and lots of piercings.

Phoenix found himself simply staring as the man approached, though shortly after he found himself suddenly grabbed, forced up onto his feet, and then stumbling out, and down a hall.

Long. Dark.

For most of the trip he stared up at the man dragging him, though his gaze drifted as they passed other rooms, other cells…cells with people in them, people that looked older than him, one that looked close to his neighbor’s brother’s age. They all looked at him strangely, though eventually Phoenix realized what it was: pity.

Stupidly he’d just let himself be dragged, hardly put up a fight, and soon enough the two of them arrived to a closed off, brightly lit room. It was almost blinding after being stuck in the darkness of his cage for so long. He couldn’t help the watering of his eyes.

Finally the man released his grip, though he didn’t stop moving once Phoenix had stopped and regained his footing. He seemed to be in a rush, opening cabinet doors, pulling out boxes, supplies, leaving them dropped on the floor near Phoenix no later, until finally he returned, and kneeled next to him.

Temperature, height, weight, sight, blood pressure, too many things at once. He felt overwhelmed.

Each thing he wrote down, numbers Phoenix didn’t understand, words he didn’t recognize, before the man had tossed the clipboard to the side, and finally lifted up some sort of gown. He made him change into it soon after, taking his old clothes and tossing them away as well. Phoenix wished he could have held onto them. They were the last things he’d had of home, and he’d let them be swept away without much a fight at all.

For awhile he’d simply stood where he was, waiting for the other man to do something. It wasn’t until several minutes later that he finally began moving again, take hold of Phoenix’s arm once more and dragging him out and into the hall for the final time of that trip.

They had reached the end of that hallway after a short time, much to Phoenix’s relief in the moment, though that would disappear in an instant once he realized what was going on.

The room they entered was blindingly light, what with being stuck in his dark cell for so long. White ceiling, white walls, white floors, metal trays and cabinets, a metal table. It smelled strongly of something he could remember smelling whenever he’d gone to the doctor’s with his mother.

He’d been lead over to the table without much of a pause to really take in the room, and after several seconds of mutters from the man, he found himself being lifted up onto it, and then forced down, flat on his back. He wished he would have fought back.

Only when the man had started strapping him down did Phoenix find himself panicking.

Starting with his ankles, he’d secured them in tightly, almost painfully so, before starting to move up to his wrists. A cry of panic had escaped him then, though the man had wrestled him easily enough, forcing his arms down to his sides with hissed words slipping past his lips, though if there was anything meant for him to hear directly, it was lost in his crying.

With his arms and legs practically pinned down, most of his movements were halted, though that didn’t stop him from struggling, despite the restraints holding him, rubbing into his skin.

“Damn brat, you’re making this harder on yourself…” The mutters from the man continued, and he was quick to place a hand on Phoenix’s forehead, forcing it down to the table, before a final restraint laid itself over his neck - tight enough to keep him down, loose enough to still let him at least breathe.

The final lock in place, the man gave a final sigh, before a smile flashed over his lips, and he made his way out of the room, leaving Phoenix alone in the new quiet.

Shaky sobs escaped him as he laid where he was, but even with his struggling, they wouldn’t release. They never did, not with the constant care the people who worked here took to be sure they were secure, unbreakable.

It felt like ages that he was stuck in the discomfort of the tabletop, his sobbing eventually subsiding to quiet whimpers, but things would change within moments.

Only several more minutes was he left alone, and soon after, he heard someone enter from the door once more, Phoenix trying to shift his gaze to look, but stuck as he was, he could barely catch a glimpse of the white lab coat’s trail, before it was gone again. Of course, with the man appearing right over him soon after, he didn’t have to strain anymore.

It was the one from before that had given him the food, half taunted him, left him alone in his cell again for so long.

“Mm, I see you haven’t gotten any less emotional since I last saw you.” His voice came out in a mutter, eyes trailing over him carefully before he looked up, over to the direction of the door.

“Melichiresa!” The name was snapped, startling Phoenix though he paid no mind to it. The sound of someone running came to his attention next, and again, Phoenix did his best to look. The newly familiar voice gave it away though - the man who had just tied him down. He was already back?

“Vapula? Do you need something?” Vapula? Was that this man’s name?

“Tell me why else I would have called you? Of course I do. The supplies from before, I had you prepare them for this, didn’t I? Please tell me you haven’t forgotten.”

Weak laughter left the other man - Melchiresa? - before he spoke again, “yes sir, they’re ready. I wouldn’t forget something so important.”

A questioning hum left Vapula then, and he gave a short wave. “Then go, and be quick about it. I’d like to start now thank you.”

The sound of the door moving open again could be heard, before the other man disappeared, leaving Phoenix alone with Vapula once more.

“Useless…even my son could do better than him…he’s barely four years old…”

Time moved slowly, but finally Melchiresa returned, the sound of him rolling something in front of him faintly reaching his ears. What had they grabbed?

“Well, no use in waiting any longer I suppose. Melchiresa, if you’ll watch please. After your last disaster, it seems you need to relearn.”

“Ah,” his voice sounded a bit hurt at that, though he nodded once, “of course, I’m happy to learn more.”

Another hum came from Vapula then, before Phoenix could hear him shifting things around on the stand the other man had just brought in. His panic spiked once more when he lifted the object - some sort of needle, a shot, like the ones he’d always gotten with his visits to the doctor’s with his mother. He hated them.

Whimpers returned, Vapula stared down at him for a moment, another flash of a smile appearing before he turned back to the other man, lifting something else that Phoenix couldn’t see, “the Houndoom’s DNA is what we’re using today. Understand? Nothing else, just this to start. If you overwhelm them too much to begin with, you’ll end up with what you got last time.”

Melchiresa must have nodded, given moments later Vapula had begun extracting a liquid from whatever he’d lifted. Turning around next, he gave several light flicks to the tip, before shifting himself down, over Phoenix.

He could feel the prick of the needle, a wince of pain escaping his lips as the man buried it into his arm. With a swift movement however, the liquid was force through, and then the release of the pain of the needle as he removed it.

“Sometimes the reaction takes a long time, so it’s good to be patient.”

A sudden spring of pain rose up his in his arm, the shock of the change of feeling leaving him silent for a moment.

“That was your other mistake, so try and learn to be able to wait more than thirty seconds for a-”

In a short burst, it spread, fiery pain spreading over his body, and despite the shock from before, he couldn’t keep quiet this time.

A high shriek tore through his chest suddenly, cutting off Vapula’s words as he writhed in his spot, fingers clawing at the table, back arching, eyes burning with new tears from the pain.

Diediedie he was going to die!

“Well, that was faster than expected.” Vapula’s words he barely caught in his agony, the man staring at him - empty, cold, cruel, it was so cruel.

A light hand brushed over the side of his face, though try as he did to jerk away, the strap around his neck kept him from getting far, and cold, it felt frigid against his skin as he held it, a hand to his forehead, a thumb moving to press under his jaw, he was holding something there between his fingers-

“Write down what I tell you.” He spoke over Phoenix’s screaming with ease, without care, “a sudden raise in body temperature…high sensitivity, raised heart rate but…that’s probably the pain, high…”

His voice faded from his ears, muffled as if something was covering his ears, as if he were underwater. His sight was blurring soon too, misty, foggy, dark, dark…

The pain faded out next, his own screaming was lost to the void, and finally, he was gone.

He wasn’t sure what time he’d woken up at. Lack of windows didn’t help with that.

But the next second he’d opened his eyes, and then, there was the pain.

It stole away his breath, tears burning at the corners within seconds, and he gasped for breath, curling up where he was, fingers clawing into his skin.

By the time air filled his lungs again, he could only sob, struggle, gasp for breath again, sob.

“Mama-”

For a week they’d left him in the cage again, returning to the same schedule once more. Food, three meals, periodically. He didn’t touch them for the first three, but eventually hunger got the better of him, thirst, and he’d ended up scarfing the entire plate down, hardly noticing the mocking laughter of the scientist who fed him.

“Already acting like the animal they’re trying to make you? Pathetic.”

The week came to an end, or, perhaps better tracked by how he’d done it at that point - twenty one meals came to an end. And he was dragged back to the room before, kicking, screaming.

Again he’d been tied down, again he was forced to take something from them, again the pain.

Soon all Phoenix knew was pain. The world refused to give him anything else.


first burns

meeting veritas

It had been…rather quiet for the last couple days. At least, Phoenix thought so. He'd seen Vapula, listened to the man mumble and sometimes even speaking to him (though…Phoenix hardly replied unless the man gave him a question to answer). Occasionally Melchiresa paced back and forth between the rooms of the building, and once or twice he'd stopped to simply sit and stare at Phoenix, the longest of them lasting nearly an hour. Other lower ranked scientists occasionally walked past his cell as well, and there had been several times that they'd startled him from his sleep, tossing things on him, banging things against the bars, the like…

Part of him felt as if he was getting used to things here. He despised the thought.

A hand traced over the edge of the scarring that laid under his eyes as his mind wandered, to the memories he'd been given here. Recent, fresh in his mind, new ones arriving each week.

Phoenix shifted himself onto the side suddenly then, curling up some more before letting out a soft breath. He would sleep if it meant escaping the memories, but all that did was allow him to relive them more vividly.

As if he would want that.

He shifted again, this time turning on his other side. The concrete was uncomfortable, but he didn't really care anymore. It could be the cold metal table, or-

Doors opening in the distance reached his ears suddenly, and he couldn't help but jolt up from laying on the floor, hands pressed against the floor to keep him upright. Was someone coming? Maybe he was due for another time in the room? Or maybe someone was dropping off food? It could just be Vapula or Melchiresa coming to talk to him too. He hoped it was food.

The voices he could hear told him it very much wasn't, though.

Melchiresa's he could recognize, with another that seemed unfamiliar - a girl, maybe? It sounded…girly. But scary.

Slowly he crawled forward, head resting against the bars as if that would allow him to see through the walls.

"You should be grateful, you know. I thought about dropping the damn brat in a pit for no one to find, but I figured it'd be more worthwhile to leave with all of you."

"Yes yes, and we're plenty thankful. I'm sure as soon as Vapula hears about this, he'll be thrilled…"

"Perfect, I'm sure he'll just love your company. Anyway, I have better places to be, so if you would kindly show me where you want the kid to be dropped at, that would be appreciated."

Someone new?

Who?

Their voices got louder then, and he was quick to move back, retreating into the shadows of his cell.

It was then that they finally arrived, revealing Melchiresa's form first, before a dark haired girl soon followed in. Her green eyes searched the room for a moment, before settling on the cell across from his.

"There?"

"Yes, that one just lost its subject several days ago. It should work perfect."

She had moved forward quickly, and it was only then that Phoenix realized she was dragging a boy who was stumbling along behind her. He seemed…somewhat close to his own age, and…if the splotches of red covering his clothing meant anything, it was likely that he was close to death.

He couldn't help his staring, watching the stranger being tossed into the cell next to his, before the door was suddenly slammed shut, a loud, jarring sound that had him recoiling back with his hands clapping over his ears.

"Eh? You have some other kid here too, huh?"

"Well, we have six or seven, but yes, he's one of them."

"What an ugly little thing. That scarring is absolutely hideous." A quiet laugh escaped the girl, before she wandered next to his cell for a moment. "Ah, well, I suppose I’ve seen enough for one day. Enjoy the gift I so kindly delivered you."

"Of course we will. Just…be so kind as to leave him out of your report to Lucifer, hm?"

"Yes yes, I'm not an idiot."

"I'm aware, it simply makes me feel better if I…"

The sound of their voices disappeared after some time, though that was probably partially thanks to the ringing in his ear that was taking ages to calm. Not that he could do much about it. At least the pain had mostly disappeared at this point.

Shaking his head some, he moved a hand to pull his hair out of the way, before looking past the bars that separated him and the newcomer. They…didn't seem to be moving. Not yet.

Shifting over closer to the bars, he moved a hand up to rub at his ears again, before taking in a soft breath.

"You…are you alive…?"

It was at Phoenix's words that the other boy finally moved from the uncomfortable looking position he had landed in, pushing himself into a sitting position. For a short while it seemed as if the other hadn't heard his words, staring down at his bloodstained clothes with an odd expression.

It was the soft, almost breathless sounding laughter followed by equally quiet words that proved the boy had heard him. "Unfortunately it seems that way..." His tone twisted then, something almost hysterical slipping into it. "Death has rejected me once again."

The laughter was…odd to hear, or Phoenix thought so. Why would anyone laugh here…? Or at least, anyone stuck inside a cage like him and the newcomer were?

His words were odd, from the few things he'd spoken, and he couldn't help but tilt his head slightly, or furrow his brows at them as he tried to process them. Death…rejected? What did he even mean?

His forehead rested up against the bars separating them at this point, his hands resting on the floor of the stranger's cell now. Eyes scanned him over once more, before he took in a soft breath.

"You're…hurt. Blood, you're bleeding. Where are you hurt? Do you…do you need help?"

The boy tugged at his bloodstained shirt at that, a frown pulling at his lips for a moment before he gave a soft hum. "Ah, no, I'm fine… It's healed by now..."

It was then that the other boy looked up at Phoenix for the first time since arriving, green-grey eyes blinking a couple of times as the stranger tilted his head slightly. A murmured, "so that's how it is," came from the boy next, not likely meant to be heard but the quiet of the room made missing the words impossible.

Heal? Could he heal himself? Had the stranger been tested on like he was? Phoenix could create fire, so maybe he had been given healing? Part of him wished he could have that…less destructive. He could have helped the last girl that was in the cage the stranger was stuck in now.

At his gaze, Phoenix paused for a moment, though a recollection of how his own face looked had him rather quickly moving his head down, letting his hair cover it the best he could. Not that he could really cover the rest of himself up, but he didn’t feel like his other scars looked as gross as the ones on his face.

The stranger's words were odd, he thought, though the entire way he spoke was rather different. He almost sounded like how his mom had with words, but he hardly looked much older than him, didn't he? Was he like his classmate, the one that had her mom take her out to be homeschooled because she was ahead of the rest of them?

A hand traced over the dirtied floor, silence holding its place for a moment before he spared his eyes to look up at the newcomer again. "The person before, did she take you away from your…family? Like me…?"

A confused look briefly crossed the white haired boy's face, brows furrowing for a moment before he let out a soft breath. "That's...ah, no… I don't have any family really." An odd smile tugged at the newcomer's lips as his gaze wandered.

Phoenix's brows furrowed slightly at his response, his eyes traveling to the ground once more. Didn't have a family? But everyone had a family, didn't they? Or at least, something like that.

Shifting himself into a sitting position, he placed his arms over his knees, his head resting over them soon after. "Do you…do you know why they took you here…? Did they tell you…?"

The white haired boy gave a soft hum at that question, gaze briefly drifting toward where Melchiresa and the girl had gone before looking back over at him again. "I have a few ideas as to why..." A breathless sounding laugh followed, "she didn't say anything to me, not anything of consequence at least..."

"Oh…" Letting his voice trail, Phoenix slouched further, head shifting down to bury into his arms for some time.

Several moments of silence passed in the room, his thoughts trailing around in his mind before he blinked, once, and then looked back up to the other boy, curiosity likely shining through his eyes.

"Your name?" His head tilted to the side slightly. "What's your name? I'm Phoenix."

By the time Phoenix spoke up again, the white haired boy appeared to have drifted off into his own thoughts, jolting back to awareness in time to catch Phoenix's introduction.

For several moments, a frown pulled at the boy's lips as he thought, and it almost seemed like he wasn't going to respond although finally he spoke up with a soft "Felix, my name is Felix."

"Felix?" He repeated the name once out loud, then several more times in his head, to be sure not to forget it. "Felix is a good name. It sounds cool. Do you-"

The sound of footsteps cut Phoenix off then, the boy jolting back from the bars a bit before looking in its direction. Someone…was someone coming? Melchiresa? Vapula? The woman from before? He could feel his heart picking up, eyes burning for a moment, before they appeared from the hall. One of the scientists that was often in the labs, he recognized him quite well.

A glance to Felix, Phoenix couldn't help the fear likely building in his eyes, his expression as he quickly moved back, crawling to the wall at the back end of the cell. It didn't seem they'd come for him this time though, the man shuffling in his pocket for a key and stopping in front of the other boy's cell, shoving it into the lock.

Oh, they were taking him. That was…

He could feel his stomach twisting, his eyes trailing back to Felix. Fear. He should have said something, maybe warned him, helped him be ready for what was coming, but instead he'd just asked too many questions.

The man had moved forward then, a hand reaching out before taking swift hold of the white haired boy's arm, a swift yank forcing him up onto his feet, moving him forward and out of the cell.

Phoenix could only watch as he was dragged off, wide eyes staring down the hall, before he curled in on himself and pinned his hands over his ears.

He didn't want to hear the screams.

years 9-14?

escape, ~week lost, starvation/dehydration

second abduction, scientific trafficking

child, aya

recovery, hospital

more recovery, houndoom pair, custody for jensen

rescuing aya

??????

joining law enforcement, meeting eden, amelie, etc

meeting elijah again

The car ride to the prison had been a quiet one…not that Phoenix minded. Really, it was probably for the best - he wasn’t in a talking mood, but who would be on a trip like this? Jensen seemed to have figured that out within the first couple minutes.

Part of him felt like telling the man to turn around and go back home. Why would he want to see the sick face of the man that had killed his own wife? Ruined his own son?

Letting out a faintly shaking breath, Phoenix shifted himself to lean against the car’s window, resting his head on the glass.

”Are you sure you want to do this?” Jensen’s words cut through his thoughts, and he snapped his gaze back to the man. ”Or, maybe it’s better put this way: are you ready to do this?”

Silence fell the car again for several moments, Jensen’s eyes staying on the road all the while, before Phoenix finally responded.

”...yeah, I’ll be okay.” The words came out in more of a mutter, returned with a raised brow from Jensen no later as he glanced towards him.

”If you're really sure…I’ll be with you in the room though, if you’re alright with that?”

There was a quick nod from Phoenix, ”more than alright. Thank you.”

The quiet returned for the rest of the ride. Phoenix was relieved.

Just several more minutes, and they finally arrived at the prison building, a place he avoided despite his work being directly tied to it. He couldn’t help his aversion.