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Mark Williams

"It's not quite the worst place I could have ended up, I suppose. I should be grateful, I think."

0 · 286 views · located in Hallowbrook, Illinois 1925

a character in “Torture Circus”, originally authored by pieluver, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

*Under Construction*

Mark Williams: 'Twitchy', 19, Male, Pansexual
The Castor, Mutant,
Psychic Main



Image
{Appearance}
Perhaps once he looked rather becoming, maybe even sharp, but Markie has fallen into disrepair. His hair falls in scraggly hanks in his face, a dirty blonde and fraught with split ends and mismatched lengths because anyone who comes near him with sharp objects will be stabbed in the face with their weapon of choice. Markie doesn't like sharp things. Not at all. His eyes are an iridescent grey and seemingly always shining with tears or fright. His pupils are almost always dilated, making his eyes look wide. He has sharp, delicate features and a down set mouth, leaving him looking petulant. One he had a warm flesh tone, but it's faded into a pale film-ish grey. Slender as a rod, he reaches about 5'5, with little muscle to his frugal name. He bruises easily, and at most times one can see any number of purple welts on his body. He has the bold scar on the back of his hand that marks him as who he is. It stands out starkly against his spidery hands. The only handsome thing about him anymore is the way he smiles.

His attire consists of that of his elders across the great puddle (Quite literally, they belonged to his father once upon a happier time). Of course, the ensemble is no longer complete. He doesn't seem to mind very much though, and isn't wont to change his outfit unless forced to. He has a dirty once off-white shirt with a brownish day-waistcoat over it, and trousers of an unknown color. You could call them brown if you desired, but it wouldn't be completely accurate. He long since lost his threadbare jacket that completed the outfit, but that's alright. He doesn't even know what happened to it, but hopefully it's in a better place now. The only way to get them off of him would be to wait until he's unconscious for some reason or another, and then take them from his body. He won't be angry when he woke up, but he might be a little cold.

Mannerism-wise he's quite cat like: he moves in quick, alert gestures, looking up from a down tilted visage. His shoulders are perpetually tensed and his fingers tremble often. He couldn't tell you quite why he looks so nervous all the time, perhaps it's the faint ghost of terrible things yet to come that haunts his peripheral thoughts, or maybe the seizures that often wrack his form. They haunt his body more than his mind at times.

{Mutation}(Optional)
Markie's mutation is of the psychic variety. He has quite strong telekinetic powers, he can hurl objects a number of feet, increasing as the size of the object decreases. His paranormal strength grows when he's panicked, afraid, or in the grips of one of his fits. He also has faint premonition powers, but nothing significant enough to be any use to him. It's just enough for him to feel a bit panicked at all times. The premonition powers are the reason he can't stand people near him. He's used to the faint unease of his own future, but when people come into the radius of his aura he can feel everything bad that will ever happen to them as well. The nearer they come the more scary the ominous feeling becomes, with terrible thoughts plucking at the corners of his mind. Mark can feel them, but they always disappear before he can see them.

{Act}(Optional)
Because of the unstable nature of his...problem... Markie doesn't spend much time out and about. He does do small acts through out the day moving things in formations pretending to lift heavy objects as he levitates them with his mind, which looks all the more impressive due to the fact that he looks more breakable than a twig, and he banters quite a bit. (He can be quite the charmer.) He also occasionally 'flies.' It requires great effort, but he can sit on something, say a rug, then levitate the rug with his mind and it will take him with it.

{Personality}
Markie, for all his dreary appearance and his hyperactive-nervous tendencies, is quite a friendly chap. Perhaps a bit eccentric, in a curious way. He enjoys talking. He'll talk to anyone and everyone. he's very British, and likes to reminisce about his early years back in the home land, during the War to End all Wars even though he remembers nothing of it but his father leaving home. He smiles often, and is quite optimistic about his situation. The only way to shut him up is to move within a few feet of him. He's deathly afraid of people in general, and hates being touched. He'll freeze up and shrink into himself, and if the person continues to grow nearer he might fall into a fit.

He's got quite a spotty memory, mostly thanks to the seizures. Perhaps that adds to his genial attitude. He's rather uninterested in the past, nor is he very interested in making friends, unless there are constant rewards. In that respect he's as fickle as a cat, and requires just as many treats as one to continue working properly. The rod doesn't have much of an effect on him, usually punishments end in him unconscious, and often twitching a bit. He rarely remembers them anyway.

Along with being rather optimistic, Mark sees things in black and white with no gray scale in between. If you are friendly towards him, your good, and nothing can ever be wrong with you. But if there is a situation in which one puts Mark in an uncomfortable or frightening situation, then suddenly the person is bad, and everything about them is pure evil. But due to his circumstances, keeping track of all the good people and all the bad people is difficult, and often things get muddled up in his head. So he decides to give everyone the benefit of the doubt unless he can remember the transgression in crystal clarity, which is rare for him. So he ends up with serious trust issues, as in he doesn't take very good care of his trust and gives it out to nearly everyone.

He's a very warm soul despite being overly frigid appearance wise. He's a friendly little kitten who loves nothing more than meeting new people and making them smile. That's one of his goals in the meager thing he calls life these days. He wants to make people smile. And not just the visitors. He'll harass the other mutants every chance he gets, even though they don't seem very receptive of it, for the most part.

Ironically, Mark has a fixation with death due to his vague premonition. there is a part of his brain set off for contently contemplating all the ways he could possibly die in a given situation, so he can fear them. He doesn't often mention such thoughts, but sometimes he gets a far off look on his slim face and murmurs something like 'Wouldn't it hurt if that beam up there decided it'd like sitting down here instead? I think it would. It'd probably take a while to kill us too.' And then he'll continue on about his day as if nothing happened.


{Likes} {Dislikes}
oTalking to people The Future x
o Napping Dead People, Dying People x
o Brightly Colored Trinkets Water x
o Smiles Physical Contact x
o The Color Blue Seizures x
o Small Animals Cows x

{Quirks} {Fears}
% Closes one eye when thinking Death by stabbing, drowning, being eaten alive, strangulation asphyxiation, starvation, blood loss, and many other ways@
% Talks to himself when alone, often about death or dying Spiders...they're just really creepy @
% His accent sounds rougher as he grows more distressed

{Skills}
# Very good at being sympathetic and someone to confide in
# Good at enduring pain and fainting on command
# Semi-Literate, has a wide vocabulary
# Very observant of surroundings, notices many things quickly
# He has impeccable aim when it comes to hurling things with his brains

{Biography}
Mark was a lucky young man. As a child, if he'd been born into a lower social class, he'd have been dropped right down in the asylum. And They don't treat a body right there. But his mother and father were well off, and they took care of him to the best of their ability. The telekinesis didn't start showing itself until his early childhood, and the unconscious use of it was squashed out of him quickly by his mother, who say the danger of it.

When his father was sent off the fight, Mark's mother was sent off as well, her eight year old in tow, to America, where she would be 'safe' with one of her husband's brothers. The journey over and subsequent events of misfortune caused Mark's mother to loose the small amount of money she had left, partially due to her husband's death. Distraught, the woman spent most of her days in a daze, something that frightened Mark enough to increase the frequency of his epileptic seizures. he started using his powers while in shock, which lead his uncle into discovering the distasteful difference when Mark was fourteen. The man, already disgusted and inconvenienced by the presence of a disabled child and his unresponsive mother, did his best to get rid of the little snot.

And that is how Mark ended up in his current situation.


{Relationships}
(Will be edited later)

So begins...

Mark Williams's Story

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Mark Williams
[Torture Circus-On the Move]



Mark sat up abruptly, the muscles connecting his left shoulder to his neck convulsing, drawing his entire arm up in a swift motion. He blinked and the muscle convulsed again, this time with a bit less anger. The fits were getting worse, the heat made his body fatigued and not able to resist the spasms. And it didn’t help that he wasn’t getting enough water in his diet. The messy young bloke stood up slowly, his body trembling slightly. He was exhausted and he didn’t know where he was. Looking down at the ground to walk, the blonde noticed that his clothes were utterly rumpled and dirty. Bleck. He slapped at his clothes and dust clouded around him. He fidgeted, and they fell straight again. There he looked presentable again.”There we are.” He said thickly, his tongue heavy still. Now on to the matter of his current whereabouts. To discover that he’d have to remember what he’d been doing before he woke up just now.

Absentmindedly the scraggly youth floated a handful of pebbles as he strained to remember. It was about midday now, and he knew that his workday didn’t start now, and this certainly wasn’t a place he usually woke up. Unless, of course, he’d broken down this morning. That would make sense, considering all the aftershocks he was currently suffering through, mostly on his facial plane. The muscle around his eyelids was a popular place for the convulsions, and his neck, which made his head jerk to one side for a second. Moving around in the summer usually did such things to him, and this summer was especially trying. And they put him way off in the back of their setup, away from anything he could damage or pick up and hurl. So that was where he was.

Luxuriously Mark stretched, pulling his muscles until they stopped jerking around. He needed to get back now. He had a faint idea that if he kept up all the breakdowns and seizures he’d soon be out of a job. And out of a body too. The thought sent chills down his spine. His act wasn’t very popular anyway, no more than usual, so he wasn’t particularly valuable, and he had a strong feeling that the seizures would only driving his worth down. But how to get across the crowds to where he was supposed to be? Mark stepped out of the makeshift structure and looked around, squinting in the sun. There was no one around at the moment, probably for the best, but a few metres away, just out of the range of his powers, was a pile of wooden boards. They’d do well enough. He paced forward grudgingly enough; it was good he’d just had a bit of a rest because it always took a lot out of him, but hell if it wasn’t great fun to fly.

The board was too narrow to sit on, and it was a bit soggy, but it would do well enough. Mark stared at it for a moment and it leaped suddenly in the air, shaking itself off before hovering a few centimeters off the ground. He jumped on it and groaned as it tugged at his mind. He wasn’t very heavy, but it was still rather painful to carry anything heavier than a kilo. He lined his feet up a few centimeters away from each other, right against the edges of the board, and held his hands out at his sides. He lifted one, and the board struggled up a metre, then another metre, and then it jumped to about twice his height and started forward. His shoulders shook slightly as he kept himself perfectly upright and scudded through the air, the front of his skull starting to ache already. The board creaked quietly; it was not pleased with the weight on it, its place on the refuse pile warranted by its poor constitution.

Impatiently Mark bowed his head and the board increased its speed at the cost of a bit of his balance, but the grin on his face made up for the discomfort. He rose a bit higher as he returned to the more populated part of the setup, trying to avoid rushing over large crowds of people just in case he did fall. Of course, it would kill neither party if he happened to tumble; he was too light to do any damage to the guests, and they would cushion his descent. Of course, then they’d be severely unhappy with him, and that’d be quite distasteful.

A few people noticed him, looking up and shouting something or nudging companions and pointing, but Mark was fully focused and didn’t wave as he normally would. He took a round-about way back to the staff tent; from there he could just walk wherever he needed to go with only a little trouble, but the board didn’t seem to like the idea. As he was approaching the tent, he could see Ester disappearing back inside its arms, the board let out a whine. It had been sagging slightly under his feet, and suddenly it splintered right in the middle, where Mark was standing. He had time to go into a rapid descent, but the board crackled before he’d managed to make it halfway down, and he plummeted, landing in a curled ball and rolling back out onto his knees and then his feet. The carcass of the board still hung above his head, almost as if staring at him smugly.

For a little way away a child started clapping amused by his tumble, and Mark smiled at it and waved. It waved back until its mother grabbed it by the hand and tugged it away. Children were cute in that they didn’t have any worry, any foul premonition surrounding them. Mark stood, staring at the tent for a moment before ducking inside, the boards trailing after him. His head was beginning to ache but the excited pumping of his heart offset the pain. He spotted Ester quickly and grinned, moving over to her. He stopped a few meters away.

“Lo, Ester. Did I miss anything?” The muscles in his mouth didn’t want to work right and as he spoke the left one decided to stop altogether for a moment. In result he sounded quite drunk. The board halves caught up to him as he stood and began bumping against his shoulder as if wishing to be put down on the ground again.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Ester heard a familiar voice behind her as she entered the tent and turned around to find Mark. "Lo, Ester. Did I miss anything?" He sounded a bit drunk, though she doubted her was. A bit too innocent for that, not to mention there was no way any of the mutants would find a drink. She'd tried to get one once, it ended with at least twelve whippings when they'd found the dead soldier in her dressing room. That giggle water isn't worth the pain she had to endure that night. No, Mark had the sort of carefree, laidback personality that his mouth was going slack on him.

"Hey baby, didn't miss much. A young sap took some kids money, and I had him leave." She looked behind him when se saw two flying objects come hurtling in behind him and stopping merely a meter or two from his head. They were two boards, not too cleanly cut. They actually looked like one board. She looked back at Mark and saw a bit of dust in his untamed hair and on his shoulders. His clothes were a bit ruffled, yet they always were so that was nothing too new. Examining his face she said. "What did I miss? Did somebody take a bit of a fall earlier?" Did he have any bruises?

She felt a bit overprotective when she found herself worrying but couldn't help it. It was almost like her job to look after the others. Especially Mark, since he was the only other psychic around. Not to mention his tendency to trust everybody too much. She wanted to make sure he was okay but was knew that if she got too close he would throw a fit. There would be no way she could touch him. He liked her enough to get decently close to her, but she knew better than to close the distance between them too much. Even though she wished she could leave this all behind she somehow found herself caring too much about it and everybody in it.

She dreamt of leaving here, this torture circus, but every time she got to the part where she escaped the dream would always change back to the circus, to the people she would leave. Mark was one of those faces. She didn't know what would happen if she left. Would he be okay without her? She would never know but it got somebody wondering how much a person is wanted. The others would probably get along fine without her, the people here were strong. Even Mark would probably make it without her. Sure he might make a few trusting mistakes but in the longrun he would make it.

There was no point in even trying to leave anyways, the thoughts she was thinking only brought uneeded questions that would darken her mood, although that wasn't that great already. Oh well, best not to make matters worse. Maybe she could smile today. It was doubtful, but maybe a real smile would emerge today. After all, how long can a person go without even the hint of an actual smile?

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Mark Williams

Mark shuffled his feet a bit, smiling down at the ground a little. He liked Esther quite a bit, and she seemed to tolerate his company. She sort of reminded him of his mother in that she seemed to always inquire after his health and make sure he was alright. Out of all the others in the circus she was probably the one he was the closest to, most because she was kind to him and put up with his eccentricities. And the air about her was rather calming, not as foreboding as some of the others. Perhaps because she was a psychic. And she respected his boundaries well enough.

"Yeah, love, I took a bit o'a tumble just outside. I didn't feel up to walking all the way back." He reached out and rested a hand on one of the boards as if it were a pet, then let them both fall to the ground with a dusty whump. "I'm right and dandy tough," He offered a cheerful smile that taxed his muscles a bit too much. He had to lift a hand to his face, over his mouth as the comprising connections jerked. He kept himself under control though, but the boards laying near his feet did jump up for little under a moment, triggered by his unconscious force. "I s'pose I took a bit o'a nap this morn'n." He said once he had control of his mouth and throat again, attempting a smaller smile.

After a moment he jumped topics, remembering what she had said about the kids. "Did you get inna tussle?" He asked, his colorless eyes lighting up slightly with worry of his own. "Need me ta beat some bloke up for ya, doll?" trying to elevate his own mood be adding a bit of a joke, lifting his fists as if he was a boxer ready to go into the ring. It was more amusing because for one, Mark would never actually draw close enough to anyone to actually fight them, and two because he was slender as a stick and truly had little strength to his sorry name. He might be able to hurl some rocks of something at an oppressor, but that really wasn't good form in a fight, now was it? And he wasn't the fighting type anyway. It was better to just stay out of such messy business.

Dropping his arms, the blonde swung them back and forth a bit, frowning. He opened his mouth and paused for a moment before any sound came out. "I don't remember what I was supposed to do today." He stopped for another moment. "What've you got scheduled, love? Mind if I tag along? I don't think I've got it in me to do anything stren'ous today." Seemingly to exemplify his words, Mark person twitched slightly, a quick, characteristic jerk. The smell tremors usually followed him around for a few hours after a fit, especially the particularly bad one.

He tried for another smile before making a half-planned gesture with his hand, leaning forward nearer to Esther than he usually dared to go. "I gotta bad feeling about today, love. Something's different." He said suddenly, his brow drawing together for a moment before he relaxed and leaned back on the balls of his feet. With a flick of his finger the boards jumped back up into the air and turned vertical so he could wrap his arms around them. He wouldn't just leave them lying around, but to be quite honest he had no idea what to do with the refuse. He looked quite unaware of what he'd just told Esther, as if speaking it had wiped it from his mind, which did happen quite a bit to him. His mind jumped around just as much as his body did, proof that his fits didn't just affect his muscles.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ester was beginning to lose focus again when Mark said he had just fallen off his board. That would explain why it was broken, and his drunken speaking could be because of his nap. Oh good, he was fine. When he patted the boards they fell to the ground and for some reason they reminded her of a dog. Obedient and playful, what a silly way to think of it. Wooden boards being dogs, it was absurd to even compare the two.

At the mention of Mark tusseling Ester felt a little something in her. It was a nice feeling, and she couldn't help but wonder what it was. Happiness? Maybe, she didn't know how that felt anymore. Mark in a tussle? She was sure that he didn't seem like the fighting type. He was rather, extremely stick slender and just had this look to him that made it seem like if he had to fight a fly, he would let it win. She put a fake smile on her face that was as believeable as any of her best. She had gotten quite good at fake smiling. It wasn't that difficult, just a curve of the corners of your mouth and their it was, a beautiful and real-looking smile. "Oh Mark, you're my knight in shining armor aren't you? No, there wasn't a tussel, just a bit of words and thoughts tossed around here and there. Nothing to make a fuss about."

Her schedule! She completely forgot that she had to perform today. Oh no, what act was she? She knew what she was going to do but what if she had already missed her performance? A crease of worry formed on her forhead but was quickly, and forced, to disappear. No need for Mark to know she might be late. But to make sure none of the staff overheard her she spoke to Mark in the most secretive way she knew how. "Sure you can tag along, I have to get to the performance tent like yesterday though. Before the Big Cheese finds out I'm not there anyways." She almost reached out to grab his hand to pull him along but stopped herself. She had moved it towards him slightly but hardly enough to get too close.

As she moved out of the tent she could pretty much feel his breathing on her neck as he followed. Normally he wouldn't even dare to get that close. She had never been near him so much as to even feel his breath. "I gotta bad feeling about today, love. Something's different." She almost stopped but thought twice about it when he said it. Did he mean a premonition? She hadn't dreamnt of anything. Then again she probably wouldn't have noticed if she had. Such vague visions they hardly told her anything. ’But what if he- they… were to-… No Ava, that’s silly, leave that thought alone. … But what if….’ What did that mean? She dismissed it as she pushed through the curtain and into the performance tent. Happy was performing, blindfolded, while charming snakes. Didn't Happy hate charming snakes? Ester couldn't remember. She hardly talked to Happy, not that she didn't read her mind a few times.

She passed the aquatic tent without even looking twice but did give a second glance to a girl she saw just as she found the performance tent. She was holding onto the bars of Ezekiel's cage. Ester frowned and read into her thoughts without stopping moving. ’But what if he- they… were to-… No Ava, that’s silly, leave that thought alone. … But what if….’ What did that mean? She dismissed it as she pushed through the curtain and into the performance tent. Happy was performing, blindfolded, while charming snakes. Didn't Happy hate charming snakes? Ester couldn't remember. She hardly talked to Happy, not that she didn't read her mind a few times.

Looking at the acts she sighed in relief. She was next. Good, she hadn't missed her part. But that had been to close, if Mr. Torture had found out...she didn't want to think of that. She made it and that was all that mattered.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Mark Williams

When Ester's voice whispered into his mind, Mark ducked his head slightly, as if her words were so secret that he couldn't even stand straight to hear them. He liked the voice in his mind, it wasn't offsetting at all to him. Perhaps it was because he was a psychic too, but it felt a natural way to communicate, and he wished he could speak back that way. He smiled gratefully at her. Tagging with her would be less stressful than struggling to remember his own act, especially in his current rather delicate state.

As they moved over to the performance tent, the wooden boards in his arms became more of a shield. He hated moving through groups of people. It was times like these when he wished he was more like Ezekiel or Happy with a visual warning to keep people away from him. He was just a normal looking human on the outside, even though there was a bit of a mad look to his unkempt visage. His scruffiness did little to keep people away in this place.

He had to detour more than once, his lanky form moving swiftly to try and keep up with Ester. His eyes were wide, as they always were when he had to navigate crowds, and quite honestly he looked about ready to cry with nervousness. His fingers were completely white as he clutched the board, and they grew whiter every time someone unwittingly stepped inside his comfort zone. He wanted to run screaming and catch up to Ester, pass her and then hide in the tent in a dark corner and just close his eyes and calm down. He could feel the seams of his self-control unthreading, not an unusual happenstance to feel his tolerance rip at the seams.

He could see Ester disappear into the tent, and he ran the last couple meters to the safety of the shelter. His jaw was trembling in an almost constant convulsion by the time he made it. Merely walking through crowds was one of the most trying parts of his day. He was thoughtless enough to make it through many of the other aspects. Each breath was shaky and heavy as he made pace to Ester, his mouth still wobbling. He snuffled quietly as he looked at her. Then past her at Ezikiel. A lass was staring at him. Ohh, he wouldn't be happy with that. Sure enough, a few seconds later Mark watched the mutant leap backwards within the confines of his cage before recomposing himself. Mark stared for another second, wondering how things would turn out before realizing that he needed to catch up with Ester again.

Feeling much lighter, Mark bounced through the tent flap to the performance tent, almost completely forgetting the terrible ordeal he'd just been through yet again. He spotted Happy doing her act with the snakes and all that, then his eyes flicked back and found Ester. relived, he hurried to stand near her, as close as he could comfortably approach.

"What's the plan, Doll?" He asked, his eyes still looking a bit tear filled, but a grin on his trembling face.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Ester turned to Mark as he spoke. His jaw was trembling and she felt a bit bad. She knew walking in crowds was hard for him, but he had to do it everyday. Maybe she could help him get more comfortable closer to people, it sure would make his life a lot easier. But he never tried to push the boundries, and she wasn't going to force him to do something he didn't want to do. She wasn't one of those people, who forces innocent people against their will or wants to do something. She loathed people like that. Mr. Torture especially, looking at Happy was more than enough proof that he was cruel. She hated dancing with the snakes, and their she was on the stage doing it as she spoke.

"Okay, here's the plan. Once Happy's done I'm going to go out there and will do my 'amazing' act. Then when I'm done we'll haul our way out of the tent through the back so their's less people and can head back to the staff tent. Sound good?" She looked back out to Happy and saw her picking up a snake that almost made Ester's blood run cold. She wasn't particularly afraid of snakes, but a snake of that size could scare anybody. She shuddered a bit and a bit of nervous laughter absent-mindedly escaped her mouth. "That's a pretty big snake, huh?" She said.

Even though Ester had seen this act so many time she never ceased to be amazed by it. Blindfolded even, Happy could charm the snakes with ease. To the crowd it probably looked different, they didn't know anything other than that she was charming snakes. But Ester knew how much Happy disliked snakes, she could see that however vaguely, and could read that very quickly. Sometimes she could hear peoples thoughts even without trying, depending on how strong they were and how close. That rarely happened, it had certainly never happened during a performance she had watched. Until now.

She heard the balloon pop and the the thoughts became clear. They didn't sound too frightened, but it was obviously Happy. She looked closer and saw the snake had actually tigtened a bit. She watched, as it began to coil around her neck and as Happy bit into it, making it uncoil. When she bowed and left the stage Ester was about to walk up to her to ask if she was okay, but when Happy moved she saw Mr. Torture staring at her from the other side of the stage. She felt anger boil in her. She couldn't even see if Happy was fine? She gave him the bird but as the applause died down from Happy's performance she turned to Mark and said, "Showtime." Then walked onto the stage.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Mark's shaky smile grew as Ester spoke and he nodded vigorously, showing that he did indeed understand.Yes he did. Completely. Except for one little problem. He actually had no idea what exactly was going on. He figured he'd just continue to do whatever Ester said and things should turn out just fine. Yea, very good idea. And then Ester distracted him by pointing out the snake. He shuddered, more because she seemed nervous than because he felt anything towards the reptilian beast. He could also sense the tension in the crowd, which told him that the snake was very dangerous, or the fact that Happy was dancing with it was dangerous, or some such thing.

"Oh dear, I do hope the doe'll be okay then." The exact moment he expressed his sentiments, a balloon popped. That sound frightened Mark nearly as much as it had startled the snake. The male made a movement towards Ester, as if intending to cling to her, before being repelled and backing away, clutching his own torso and flinching as if he'd been struck about the face. Loud unexpected noises usually did that to him. It didn't help it that the room then instantly filled with palatable tension, another thing Mark couldn't take. He had no idea what was going on, but he did know that it was scaring him near out of his mind.

The lad sat down hard and closed his eyes to cool himself down, flicking them open when Ester spoke over her shoulder at him, offering a wan smile and wishing that she didn't have to go out there. Or that he could follow her out there. But her couldn't, not in this state, the rational scrap of his mind knew. So he just gathered his knees to his chest and stared blankly at the ground, trying to master the new wave of involuntary muscle spasms that were now plaguing his recently frightened form. He was easily frightened, that was for sure. He wasn't very partial to surprises or any of that lot.

To calm himself down, he contemplated what had just happened. He hadn't spent any time around happy, so he hadn't felt this coming at all, not that he ever really made an effort to use the weak, uncomfortable skill for anything. She'd nearly died. The snake would have crushed the life out of her if she hadn't have thought so quickly and did whatever it was she did to make it let go. Mark shivered. How long would it have taken for her to die? It would crush her ribs, which would puncture her lungs, but she wouldn't pop like a balloon, she'd just hiss out life until she was out of air.

As he thought, the spasms and twitched reduced until just Mark's fingers were trembling slightly and there was a faint stricken look half frozen on his face. Thinking about such things made him calmer, but it was still severely distressing in a quiet sort of way, taking its tolls on his emotions without leaving much of a mark. it was better than falling into a fully fledged fit though, to be certain. That would be terrible for most of the people in the tent at the moment, not just him. If he did, then he would surely end up dead as a fencepost, merely for accidental manslaughter. They wouldn't even have to justify killing him. He was a mutant, not a person, and he could be killed just as easily for making a nuisance of himself as for failing to earn his keep in the circus, adding an easily removable burden to the rag-tag bunch of messed up half-creatures-half humans that they were.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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'Ladies and gentleman! May I present to you the lovely Ester Pradin!' There was a large applause and she figured she heard a whistle come from the crowd. She looked in the direction it came from but couldn't see who had made the sound. Everybody was looking at her, like she was just some display item in a museum. Maybe that's what she was, meant to be displayed and then locked up that night. Her life wasn't all that different from an item displayed in a museum, except that museum pieces were treated better.

The announcer, who it was she wasn't sure, continued. "Now, earlier this evening we had given a watch to a random member in the audience. Ester is going to pick out the person with that watch without even leaving the stage. Whoever is holding the watch may conceal or hide it more so if they wish." Looking out into the audience Ester met several people's gazes and began racking through thoughts. They were all relatively the same common thoughts she heard when doing so. "They probably rigged this thing" or "I wish I had the watch", or one of her favorites "I have the watch. I have the watch. I have the watch." Whoever thought that obviously did NOT have the watch, why would you repeat that in your head if you did? It was easy to tell when somebody was forcing themself to think something.

About thirty seconds in Ester's eyes stopped on one girl. She checked to make sure her thoughts weren't fake and digged a bit deeper for a name. She found it and smiled the fake, warm smile she was told to do on stage. "Evangeline Davis, I believe you have my watch, correct?" She looked at her for a moment more and something registered as a little...different about her. She didn't really have to look at the girl much to know she wasn't the average snobby teenage girl she would see here. She couldn't quite find what it was though. "Would you mind coming on up with it?" She didn't find very many people that she couldn't just sum up in moments of reading their mind. Maybe Mark was right, something was different about today. If so, she was going to find out what it was.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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As the girl, Evie, agreed to stay up, Ester was already thinking of the fastest way to get this done acceptably and go off the stage. There were only so many things she could do, so she picked the classic 'ask a random question'. "Okay, I want you to ask me a few questions. Some personal questions about anybody in the audience or yourself. It can be anything, from the favorite color to if that person has ever broken the law. After this you can go sit back down and we'll be done." Then she could get out of here. Already her dress felt itchy on her, so much in fact she broke character for a moment. She felt a bit of her emotions enter her eyes, but she pressed them back down where they belonged so quickly that if anybody had seen they would doubt it had been there at all.

She couldn't help but prod just a bit into the girl's memories. Who could blame her? With the ability to know everything about a person you pretty much want to know at least something about every person you meet. Just a simple name did not suffice when you could know so much more. Ester knew that the more knowledge you had the less innocence remained, but there was no innocence left in her to be drained. She had nothing to lose as she learned more about everybody around her. She trusted nobody, cared for everybody, and never wished to love somebody. It was a life she had gained along with her powers. The lucky ones like Mark may still have their innocence, but most of the people that were 'blessed' with their 'gifts' had lost that privelage long ago, much sooner than they should have probably. Ester knew that she had anyway, with the world being as cruel as it was she was amazed anybody had any peiceof them that was still innocent.

When she read through people's memories, it was different than just reading their thoughts. It took no effort at all to hear what they were thinking. It took a little effort to put a thought in somebody's head. But going into memories? That was something else entirely. As the years passed by in front of your face, time seemed to distort. What seemed like hours was only a few seconds. What seemed like years could simply be a few minutes. She could go through two months in somebody's life in a matter of five seconds but it would seem as though she had been there much longer. In the five seconds she had spent in the girl's head, she had felt every pain, every guilt, every jolt of adrenaline. She had experienced it all, and she almost wished that she hadn't. Almost.

Ester had gone through this feeling enough times to keep her composure. She had done the same with many others like her and had needed to learn to act as though nothing was wrong so it wouldn't set off any alarms in their heads. She wanted to look out to the others who had done the same with her, but decided against it. For some reason she thought if she saw all of them at once, she wouldn't be able to handle all the information she had just learned.

What Mark had said earlier once again popped into her head. The farther into the day they went the more different the day got. If he had a bad feeling about it, what if these people would end up doing something to ruin the average reputation she struggled to keep at the circus. She never drew too much attention to herself, or she tried not to. That way she wasn't punished more than the rest and she wasn't shown off like some prize at every circus. She didn't know what these kids, around the same age as herself, could possibly do though. After all, they were normal, weren't they? She stole a single glance at Mark, wondering if Evie registered to him at all. If so, Ester had to leave. She had to leave this stage before things got any worse that day.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Ester answered the questions with ease. "That little boy wants to come on stage, the woman's favorite thing to hear is that he trusts her. Although he doesn't." She gave the man a disapproving look and sent a little message "You should trust her you know." He looked shocked at the thought just popping into his head but she continued, dismissing him. She looked at the last boy and smiled as his memory filled her mind, reminding her tastebuds of the taste she had never tasted yet it felt as though she had. "That boys favorite food was the homade carrot cake that his grandmother used to make every year for his birthday. It always had a secret ingredient that she never told him." She didn't mention, however, that he wouldn't be having it anymore.

Then just as she was about to wrap up the act, one last question was asked, "What is the answer to what I am thinking?" The girl asked, and then as she read her thoughts her blood ran cold. Was she happy here? Of course she wasn't happy here, she was miserable. But she couldn't tell her that. What if she could though? Surely nobody would ever know that she told her, and it would be nice if somebody on the outside world knew. Yet somehow she couldn't say it. She could only bring herself to look at Mr. Torture, watching her performance, and nodding his head. She didn't know how long she had stood there. Seconds, minutes, it could have been instantanious.

But when she looked back at Evie she knew her answer. Taking a deep breathe the one word seemed to travel along with the wind, carrying it to any ears that wanted to know. "I hate it here! Why doesn't anybody realize that? Isn't it obvious?" She had always wanted to say those words, scream them at the rooftops. But for once, it seemed that the simple word "No" did more than she thought saying those words ever would. But soon a different pressure seemed to form around her. She had to get off the stage, now.

Looking out at the crowd she smiled, but now even she could not fool probably half the people in the audience. "Good night everybody, that was the end of the act." With that she walked off stage without so much as a glance behind her. She didn't stop until she reached Mark. "Mark," She said, the name coming out so quiet she could hardly hear it herself. "Mark," She said, this time loud enough to hear. "Was that girl in your dream?" She asked. Although Ester was telling herself she didn't want to know, she didn't want things to get any more complicated, she felt she had to know. She needed to know, even though every instinct she had told her NO. It was like something even more powerful than that, more powerful than common sense, was taking over.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Mark sat patiently after his fear had quieted, folding his legs underneath himself as he craned his neck to look up at the stage. He was entrapped by the girl on the stage. Not for any physical feature, he hadn't gotten a proper look at her face and he wasn't exactly one for amour anyway, he couldn't do anything to a girl who was further than arms length away, and if she came nearer she'd be dead. It was her silence. The air around her was completely, beautifully, still. No fear, no pain, none of the frightening premonition the lad had come to expect from the fragile human bodies. She was silent. As if she didn't exist at all, or she had no future, no past, no nothing. It was a pleasant shield from the fear he felt towards every in the audience for their own terrible emissions, it was only her and Ester. And he was used to Ester's, hers only really bothered him when she was very close to him, within his arm-span, which was rare. She was a nice, cognizant young lass. Mark smiled up at her back, feeling more relaxed than he had since he entered the God-forsaken place.

He was content enough to sit and occupy himself with sunbathing in the pretty silence, playing with a splinter of wood and a rock, hurling them as far as his ability could reach, in a flat line very very near to the ground, until they fell useless. Then he'd shift slightly, bringing them back into his ambiguous field, and they would hurtle back at him and bounce off his knee or his foot. It was great fun, but it didn't last too long. He noticed that Ester looked rather uncomfortable. She was silent, perhaps what had alerted him, because he'd been drifting in the wash of female voices sitting not too far away. Indeed, if the girl had looked behind her, she would have seen him tucked up right behind the rise of the stage, His upturned face not visible to the audience. But no own looked at him. The silent girl was looking at Ester, and Ester looked to be troubled. Sad. Poor Ester, what made her sad?

Then she spoke. The word was bold. No. He hadn't caught the earlier part of the performance, he'd just listened to the smooth sway of the voices, so he was rather confused. What did no mean? It looked important, as Ester bid the audience good bye. She looked stressed. Distressed. Her eyes found him and he stood up, intending to follow her, but she came towards him. He took an unconscious half step back, he always did that when someone approached him, no matter how close or far they intended to stand from his space. Her voice was soft an urgent. This was important. Mark forced himself to focus in on her words.

"Er..." He rubbed the back of his head and rocked on his feet. "I don't know, doll." His eyes wandered across the ground and up to her face, his mouth was pulled down lopsidedly. "But she's quiet. So silent. Like being alone." He closed his eyes blissfully for a moment. "None of it from her, none of it at all, I think I could stand next to her and not even flinch." He grinned. "She's a special bird. I don't know what she is, or where she's from, but she's special." He hesitantly took a step towards Ester, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the other's face as his expression fell into seriousness.

"I've got a bad feeling about her. Something's different. She's going 'ta change things."

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams
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Mark was dead to the world. He couldn't wake up if he wanted to. Or needed to. His sleep wasn't natural, but it served its purpose. So he wouldn't murder people when they tried to chain him to a post or dump him in a trailer with other mutants, he was sedated. Chloroform was the easiest way to do that, and Mark was foolish enough not to realize when it was time for someone to jump him behind and clap a cloth full of the stuff over his nose and mouth. He barely ever hat time to jerk before he was merely a lump of flesh and skin and muscle for a few hours of night-time. The moment was always too sudden to be traumatic, and he usually didn't remember what had transpired. His days were already blurry, perhaps in part because of the sedation, which really took its toll on his brain and his lungs, even though no one could anticipate such a result. It was just chloroform after all, what could be wrong with it? Even if Mister Torture knew, however, it would probably not dissuade him from using the stuff, despite the ill effects.

Currently he was chained by the ankle like a dog, hands tied behind him so in the off chance that he did wake he couldn't free himself or wreak too much damage, as most of the finesse of his craft was wrought with his hands. It didn't matter if he was comfortable enough or not, because there was little chance of him waking up, so there was no blanket afforded to him in the summertime somewhat-warmth of the night. He spent most nights outside, unless it was absolutely freezing past the point of human endurance. Then he was slumped on the floor of whatever trailer had a little extra room. He knew no difference though, because they were careful that he was removed from his indoor situation long before the chloroform wore off. Otherwise it wouldn't turn out very well. Not very well at all.

Mark's face was pressed against the dirt, his mouth slightly slack and both of his arms bent behind his back, facing up towards the sky since his belly was flat against the ground, tied loosely,but enough that Nark would never be able to free himself through his own strength. One knee was haphazardly tucked against his chest, and the other was suspended by the chain ever so slightly over the ground, as the post was very much taller than the short but of chain allowed to him. His toes, clad in a worn shoe, dug into the dirt limply. He looked the same as he always did, even though all the way up until he'd been knocked out he'd been fretting nervously. That bird he'd seen, the quiet one up on the stage, had been bothering him endlessly, prodding at his mind. He didn't know what to make of it, but it had made him feel sick to his stomach from the worrying. He'd been much quieter than normal after Esther's act, his silvery eyes glazed.

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Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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#, as written by slcam
Evie noticed Ester hesitate a moment and wondered what was wrong. She realized from the look on Ester's face that she was concerned about something. Evie wondered what it could be and if she could help somehow, but Ester rose and stretched before Evie could figure out how to ask. Feeling somewhat nervous, she fingered her locket, absentmindedly playing with the clasp, as she warily looked around. It seemed they were okay for now. They needed to leave soon or they might---

"Okay, if we're going to do this we need to move."Ester said, as if reading her thoughts. "I doubt you came to the circus with the plan of performing a jailbreak, so you probably don't know what you're doing am I right?" This made Evie blush deeply, doubt quickly rising. But at the same time, she was certain that she was doing the right thing. Ester mentioned going to get someone named Mark, and Evie immediately nodded. "Of course. I don't... I mean, we haven't...." Her blush spread over her cheeks as she looked down nervously. "If you would... lead the way?" She said hesitantly. She was beginning to get uncomfortable under Ester's attention, and was quickly beginning to get nervous.

She waited until everyone was ready and then they set off. They had to stop once as one of the guards made his way lazily through the aisles. Just as they finally reached Mark, who was chained to a post and seemed to be sleeping deeply, Evie's foot caught on a tent peg stuck in the ground. She fell forward, arms flailing, and landed hard on the ground with a solid thump. She looked up and realized she was just inches from Mark's face.

She quickly sat up, blushing once more as she distractedly wiped the dirt from the front of her dress. She slowly reached out to touch his shoulder, giving a small shake to see if she could wake him. She realized he was resting face down on a rag of some sort and wondered if he was being drugged to sleep. She began trying to push him over onto his back, hoping he would be able to wake up if the rag was not on his face. If that did not work, perhaps Jack could carry him?

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Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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The sleeping form paid no attention to the group as it found him, even as the young woman tripped over a protruding post and fell but inches from his face. When she began to push him onto his back, the prone male moved easily enough, his body featherlight, as he was thin enough as it was, and between his fits and the way the mutations were kept in this place, he didn't get much to eat, and he worked most of it off one way or another. Once on his back, arms trapped under him, his chest began to contract and expand, quickly expelling all the sedative from his lungs. He moaned softly as he came to, the leg that was chained to the pole twisted awkwardly and a sensation of numbness permeating his body. One silver eye slid open, then the other, and his body convulsed slightly, muscles strained by the awkward position. Confused, the male began struggling, trying vainly to sit up.

When he'd decided that sitting up was not a viable options, thanks in part to the elevated, twisted state of his leg and because his arms were still tied behind his back, so he could not push himself up, he lay still, his head falling to one side, blinking away the fuzziness in his brain. As he did so, the first thing his eyes landed on was a girl. He flinched away in surprise, but recovered after the few seconds it took to reorient himself. "G'mornin', doll." He said cheerfully, his voice muted because it was so raw and thick. "Mind telling me where I am? I don't recall noddin' off here."

Another spasm claimed him for a moment and he had to grit his teeth through the pain of his muscles straining at his leg, trying to pull it away from the chain as his entire body seemed to curl into his core. He recovered quickly though, and as he looked up again he recognized Ester and Happy. "Lo' Ester, Lo' Happy!" He said smiling at the two. "This is just ducky, are we all here? What's going on?" The dizziness was quickly fading away, though he was still confused he'd quickly returned to his cheerful self, which was no surprise. He blinked after a second, however, realizing that it was extremely dark out. What? That...didn't make sense. This wasn't morning?

The confusion spread suddenly across his face, furrowing his brow and focusing his silver eyes on Esther in an unspoken question. It was nighttime. The girl before him was unfamiliar, and there was another lad in the group too who he didn't know. There were many things wrong with the situation, he hadn't been conscious at night in a very long time, but he knew that most everyone was locked up once the sun hit the horizon, so how were they out? That made no sense at all.

There was a more pressing matter, however, one that Mark couldn't know. Just how they would get him free now that he was conscious was a very curious notion, as he couldn't stand any of them being that close to him. Already he could feel the pressing horrors of the future in the back of his mind, soft, maddening whispers that would only set him off if anyone drew nearer. But there was one silent creature within the bunch, something that Mark had noticed earlier but did not recognize now. Evie made no sound, she emitted no signal for his brain to pick up, but he couldn't feel her empty space among the others when everyone was so close and he was so disoriented still.

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Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Ester flinched a bit as Eva fell and could feel herself draw inside of herself when she flipped over Mark. She didn't notice the cloth and was sure he would wake up, throwing this girl into one of the tents. Before she could protest though, it was done. Mark woke up as slowly and calmly as he would have if had waken up by his own accord, which was rather strange to Ester. Normally he would freak out the moment he woke and saw some strange girl even near him. The fact that she had actually moved him should have sent him into ballistics, right?

That was about the time she noticed the rag, and her breathe was cut short, causing her to cover her mouth and hold in what seemed like a coughing fit that lasted a lifetime. One of the coughs had managed to escape through her hands and she hoped it wasn't enough to call attention over to their little posse. They chloroformed him? Was this only a one night thing or was it every night? Surely being drugged every night would damage a person. Her came to her a bit more shakily and she struggled to remain calm. Calm down. Calm down. Three seconds of weakness, then it's gone. One, Her breathes became more even. Two, Her mind began to clear. Three. Back to normal.

Ester could see the confusion on Mark's face and realized he probably wasn't putting all the pieces together. He had just woken up and the fact that it was night time would be odd to any of the people in their little mutated circus group. "Eva over here was nice enough to give us the spring. We're getting outta here Mark." Just like I promised we would. Ester wasn't sure she had ever said the promise aloud, or that Mark had ever known that was her intention even, but it was. Now it was happening.

That was about the time that Mark's thoughts protruded into her own. Mark was awake now, there was no way in hell any of them would be able to get close enough to free him. "You have got to be kidding me..." She was right here! Mark was right in front of her, Eva had the key, and they wouldn't make it out because they couldn't get close enough to Mark to let him free. Ester hit her head once. How could she have been so stupid? Absent-mindedly she begun pacing and as she did sent a little mental message to Mark. "Mark, there's no other way than to get close."

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Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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#, as written by slcam
Evie and Mark Collab


Evie was surprised at how light the man was. Though he was thin and lanky, it should have been much more difficult for her to flip a full grown man over when he was dead weight like that. It caught her off guard as he thumped harder onto his back than she would have liked. Ester noticeable tensed up, seeming like she was bracing herself for something. Was there something Evie had done wrong? Would this man, Mark, be alright when he woke.

She carefully looked over him as he began to stir, still kneeling just a few inches from his shoulder on the dusty ground. She grabbed the liquid-soaked cloth the man had been laying on, and, when she faintly smelled the undeniable scent of chloroform, she balled it up and threw it as far away from them as she could. Which, knowing Evie's luck, was not far at all as it caught a breeze and drifted most of the way back. She heard a shout somewhere among the tents and her heart began to race, but it quickly faded to faint laughter. They needed to get a wiggle on. This place was giving her the jitters.

Her attention returned to the man, and she realized he was quite the rag-a-muffin. His hair hung in long, dirty tangles, his clothing, not to mention his face, looked like he had not washed in ages. One eye slowly blinked open, followed by the other. She realized then that she had moved him to an even more awkward position, his leg twisted uncomfortably as he tried unsuccessfully to sit up for a moment. His eyes landed on her and he started. Perhaps she should have said something so he would not have peen surprised.

The man quickly recovered his composure and said, "G'mornin', doll." His words were slurred and he still sounded very much drugged. "Mind telling me where I am? I don't recall noddin' off here."

Evie blushed slightly and stammered out, "Oh, well, I... I am not...." Before she could finish, the man convulsed slightly quickly noticing the others with Evie and greeting the two mutants. Thankfully, Ester explained and Evie did not have to. Her words sent a slight thrill down Evie's spine. "Eva over here was nice enough to give us the spring. We're getting outta here Mark." Evie smiled and nodded. Nothing could have convinced her that this was the wrong thing to do.

Seeing Ester's attention shift to the shackle that bound Mark to the post, Evie belatedly realized she was still grasping the ring of keys in her hand. Ester began worriedly pacing, and Evie realized they did not have the time to sit around and beat their gums. "Oh, right," she mumbled, somewhat embarrassed. She scooted over to Mark's ankle, looking through the keys until she found one that looked promising. "Just give me a sec and I'll get this right off," she said in a reassuring tone, leaning over his leg to get to the keyhole.
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An awed, open-mouthed smile broke on Mark's features at Ester's words and the nod from the other jane. They were leaving? Wow, that was brave! And he got to come along too. It was almost screwy! Where would they go. Hopefully somewhere . But with less people than this place had. He trusted Esther, so there was not a doubt in his mind that she wasn't feeding him a line, but then again he trusted most everyone so it was rather regular. But they were leaving! He didn't even realize that rationally he couldn't leave yet because he was still chained up tight to the post, he was just happy to go. Mostly because Ester looked happy, and if Ester looked happy it was a good thing. Mark had never really contemplated escaping, he'd have no where to go and his condition was too bad to be on his own anyway. He'd relegated himself to this place without a second thought.

The smile slid right off his face when two things happened nearly at the same time. A worried look crossed Ester's face, coupled with ominous words, and the girl came nearer. Mark flinched heavily as if he'd just been struck, and if his arms had been free they would have risen to cover his head. No, no, no, they couldn't come near him. he didn't want them there. The stress alone was enough to make his body convulse, but he didn't fall into the mindless throes of a seizure, he just curled up like a shelfish. "Don't hurt me." He cried out under his breath, unable to catch enough air into his lungs to make the words any louder.

She was still there though, leaning over his leg, and he struggled to get away, just in case the effects of her nearness were merely belated and would hit him at any second. The only thing he succeeded in doing was flip himself back over onto his face, nose digging into the dirt. The darkness of the ground was enough for him though, so he buried his face into the hard dirt as if it could protect him, body trembling violently.
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Evie was startled by Mark's panic, nearly falling back in her surprise, but instead she decided to hurry and get it over with. She had no intention of hurting him, so hopefully he would not panic any more than he just had. The poor man was trembling, as if she would beat him with the keys instead of setting him free. What kind of treatment had caused this reaction?

Without touching him, Evie deftly slid the key into the lock and turned it with a click. The shackle fell open, releasing the man's ankle as Evie let out a sigh and fell back onto her rear, looking around half scared that someone might have heard the clamor.
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The moment his foot hit the ground Mark made his best effort to escape, though nothing bad had happened yet. He managed to scoot himself a bit forward, rolling over onto his back again. His head spun as he managed to sit up after another bout of spasms abated. A dry sob caught in his throat, making him wheeze, and his silver eyes were wild as he stared at the girl, who'd fallen over onto her tail. He was still shaking violently as he tried to calm himself down. Nothing had happened. It was okay. He was okay. She was far enough away now that nothing bad could sneak up on him.

She hadn't known it would hurt him, that much was obvious by the look on her face, but Mark couldn't help but fear. What if she came nearer again? Though, nothing had happened. Which was strange. His fits had gotten worse over the years, he wasn't immune to any kind of nearness now, everyone set him twitching. The quiet voices were just so terrible. But...Mark racked his brains. He hadn't hear anything but the quiet murmurs of Happy, Ester, and the other fella, who were all far enough away that they didn't do more than agitate him a slight bit.

She was silent, he realized for the second time in twenty-four hours. A nearly silent laugh coughed from his lips, which were upturned again, though he was still quaking terribly. Wasn't that just the bee's knees? She was silent. Either that or he was going batty.

Mark moved to stand up, but his arms just tugged at the rope that bound his wrists behind him, making him grimace. Oh yeah, he'd forgotten about that. His wrists were actually beginning to throb from all the tugging he'd just put them through. He squirmed a bit before finding the strength in his legs to stand, trembling like a baby deer. He took an unsteady, tentative step towards the jane, an unsure look on his face.
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Evie still saw no one approaching, but she doubted their luck would hold for much longer. The terror on Mark's face made her heart hurt. She wanted to gather him in her arms and tell him it would be okay, like she did when one of her siblings had nightmares. This was neither the time or place, however, especially since she was the one who he was scared of at the moment.

For a moment, she thought there was a look of longing and disappointment on his features, but she thought it was probably just her imagination. He quickly began to look confused, then amused, as if he had not found something he expected and that pleased him. Evie had no clue what could be going through his mind, but at least he was not tied up and unconscious or scared stiff.

He tried to rise, hampered by his tied hands, before finally standing and taking a step towards her. She stood as well, looking at their little group a moment before saying, "Ummm, so...what's next?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Samael Barker Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton
22:10 P.M


Her laughter came as a relief to him, at least he wasn't the only crazy one here. It didn't matter if she tried to deny it, they were both completely mad for this, absolutely loony, bonkers. For some odd reason though, and perhaps it was the lunacy or the adrenaline, but a tickling feeling was running up and down the inside of his stomach. Vaguely his mind was running through how he thought it was cute how she covered her mouth in her embarrassment and how she tilted her head with a smile, and mortified he tried to lock these observations away. It had to be the adrenaline, that's what made the most sense, it also must be what was making his face feel like hot coals.

Ezekiel found himself back in reality as soon as she moved off of him, the two of them sitting side-by-side in momentarily silence as their bodies processed that danger wasn't so imminent. Even if they were apart now the previous proximity still lingered, his skin still tingling from where her breath had landed, remembering each touch. He furrowed his brows as he stood, brushing the dirt off his cloths fastidiously despite not caring about getting dirty. Being incredibly hygienic was never a habit someone could really form in a travelling circus, no matter how well they were treated. Silently Ezekiel told himself that he could remember it all so clearly because of the rush, along with all those years that he went without close physical contact, being in a cage most of the time did that to people.

He found himself only nodding in response, stretching out his wings and wincing as his nerves delivered pain to his head. There were some spots that would need to be put into a splint, but it wasn't anything he couldn't manage for now. "Copacetic." His voice was quiet and his wings folded again, as if to demonstrate that he would be fine and that there was nothing for her to worry about. When they had a real shot of getting out of here alive he found himself hardly thinking about the pain at all, and it wasn't as if his wings were special to him, not to mention that he probably would have never been able to use them for flight in the first place. Rolling his shoulders Ezekiel stepped forward and onto the path, looking both ways before gesturing to where Mr.Torture had come from on that assumption that he wouldn't head back that way anytime soon.

Again was their world filled with nothing but the sound of their own footsteps. There was no time for his body to relax, everything felt tense as they walked through the circus, stopping to check pathways before advancing, avoiding brutes and guards alike. Every one of his muscles felt tight, wound up and ready to spring at the slightest noise or hint of danger, anything that would jeopardize his own freedom. Yet he still stood close to Avalin, keeping her in grabbing distance in case they needed to run. While she could most likely run faster then him (Thanks to having normal feet and all), she didn't know the layout of the circus. After all that she had done for him, leaving her behind was the last thing on his mind, and both of them would get out of this in one piece if he could help it.

It wasn't far now, and he would have kept on going if it wasn't for noise, voices, and he turned to Avalin with a perplexed countenance. What was with that racket? Even if it was hushed the noise was such a contrast to the stillness of the circus, and it obviously wasn't from anyone that they should be running from. His wings twitched as he recognized a couple of the voices and he changed his course, walking towards the sounds rather than away, thinking that if it was what he thought it was then there was nothing for him to worry about.

He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't quite right either. He saw Ester and Mark, as suspected, but there were two other people that he didn't recognize, and then another who he didn't expect to be there at all. "Well, aren't we a bunch of eggs?" He questioned, making their presence known among the others as he walked closer, specifically approaching Ester and Mark, who he was more comfortable with. For a few quick seconds he looked between the two that were foreign to him, and then glanced back to Avalin, his eyebrows raised. Maybe she hadn't come here alone after all? "Are they with you?" He whispered, hoping that it was true, because if they were her friends then at least he could trust them a little bit.

Ezekiel stopped beside Ester, and in his surprise he was unable to force himself to smile, only managing a nod. So this was a full blown operation? He had to admit, he was impressed, and perhaps they would have a better chance at breaking out of this joint with more people, more minds. He tried to not think of the possibility of all of them simply being a bunch of saps. "Hi." He greeted her bluntly and looked over to Mark, the skinny boy's hands still tied and his own eyes widening. If this was going to be a group effort they should be getting out of her soon. The longer they stayed in one spot the more change they had at getting caught, and he would fight tooth and nail to see that they didn't meet with such a wanweird.

With this in mind he stepped forward without a word, avoiding vocalization as a means to not draw more attention to themselves, along with hoping that logic and nonverbal communication would do. He pulled out the key Avalin had nicked and quirked one of his eyebrows, curious to know if it would work on the chain lock as well. Figuring there was only one way to find out the winged boy sent a brief look over to the other male before knelling down behind Mark, his eyes squinting in the dark shrouds of the night, searching for where the lock was. When he found it he reached forward and grabbed the shackles, not giving any verbal warning. Really, he didn't know how to act in this kind of situation at all. Ezekiel bit the inside of his cheek as he placed the metal shaped by heat into the lock, holding his breath as he turned it, awaiting a click or a dreadful resistance.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Mark found himself calming down as he stared from Ester to the other girl. He was okay. He was gonna be okay. Nobody had hurt him and now his feet were free. hey could run now. The jane spoke, her voice unsure. Instinctively Mark's grey eyes turned towards Ester to answer the question the other girl had posed. Ester was a leader. She was smart. She knew everything, she'd know what to do next. He swayed on his feet, his balance just out of reach and his tied hands unable to steady him. But he didn't care at all and he barely noticed that his head was still spinning from his abrupt awakening. Before anyone could make any response to the girl's words, however, because just then Ezekiel approached with another jane by his side. Mark's countenance spread into a smile. This was turning out to be a right party indeed! The winged boy approached Ester after whispering something to the jane, who must have sprung him just as his new light-brown haired friend had set him free.

That made three humans, the two janes and a lad, who hadn't said anything. Mark turned his eyes to the lad to see what he was all about, and he didn't notice Zeke approaching him from behind until it was too late. The surprise literally knocked him off his feet, pain bursting in his mind. Though the other girl hadn't caused him any problems, he could feel what he'd missed in his last intimate encounter with another being. The half whispered visions of terrible things to come plagued his mind at winged lad's proximity. He fell hard on his knees just as his hands were freed, and he scrabbled a few centimetres away from his innocent assailant, arms rising to cover his face as his body seized, curling him inward and digging his shoulder into the ground.

His mouth was open as if he was screaming, but the only sound that emitted was a very soft whimper as he struggled with his body,which was urging his mind to go blank and let his form weather the fit on its own. But he couldn't. He could accidentally hurt Ester or the jane who'd sprung him. He couldn't do that. He couldn't. His body, though his mind was still conscious, instinctively lifted all the small objects around him, which were just a couple of rocks as all the people were much too large to lift up when he was in such a state. The small stones, which were mostly pebbles, with a cig butt in the mix, drew nearer, drawn to Mark's twitching form. They wavered as he to lay them back on the ground, his body resisting. His fingers, which were white as bone because he was clutching his face so lightly, jerked and twitched, and the young man gritted his teeth, moaning softly through them as his body strained in all directions at once. He might have been crying, he didn't know, his face was wet, but whether with sweat or tears it wasn't clear.

The blonde male writhed for what could have only been about thirty seconds, but felt like an eternity, and one of the smallest pebbles went shooting off like a bullet in the air. It would land in the grass thirty yards away. The rest of the objects trembled along with his shivering body, and very very slowly he forced them down to the ground and made them fall away from his mental grasp. He sobbed as his body twisted violently one last time, then he fell limp, his face pale and his eyes red with tears of pain. He lay that way, sprawled out on the ground and twitching slightly, for a moment, then he took a sharp breath and sneezed.

The sneeze seemed to surprise him and he sat up again, body trembling even more than it had before, and drew his sleeve across his face, wiping away the tears. He wanted to go to Ester, well, he wanted to go within arms length of Ester, which was as close as he could manage. Ester was safe. But Zeke was right there. Which meant that the he'd have to go to the second safest action. Curling up and closing his eyes and not opening them again until everyone was gone. But that was not a viable option. He had to be a brave boy now. He had to get up. They'd gone to the trouble to save him and he couldn't be weak now, he had to get up.

Carefully, with much trembling and grimacing, Mark pulled against his locked muscles and stood up, wobbling on his heels again. Though he looked on the verge of bursting into tears he summoned up a smile and looked at Ester, letting her know that he was alright. He could be brave, he could be strong, he wouldn't let Ester and his new friend who didn't broadcast any noise down. He wouldn't let Happy or the lad down. He wouldn't let Zeke and his friend down either. He would be fine. Just so long as no one got near him again.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin
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Ester stopped pacing when she saw Evie going over to Mark. She didn't have time to warn her about his personal space issue before she had reached down to unlock his leg shambles. He began to tremble and Ester just stood there as it happened. In moments though Evie was up and Mark was, more or less, fine. Disbelief filled Ester's face as she looked from Evie to Mark then back at Evie. He had just met the dame, yet he reacted as he might have if Ester herself had gone up and done the same thing.

There wasn't much time to ponder on the subject, and she was quickly reminded of that when Evie mentioned the next move. Yes, they musn't dilly-dally. "Well, is this all of us? We should regr-" She was halted midthought as she heard Eziekiel's voice speak over her own. "Well, aren't we a bunch of eggs?" Ester looked over, trying to mask the suprise on her face. There was a girl with him, one she didn't recognize. Must be one of Evangaline's. Reading into Ezekiel's mind her thoughts were confirmed, unless there were two break-ins going on in one night. She almost laughed though when he thought it was an actual operation. This was no operation: this was last minute, heat of the moment, heroic attempt kind of act performed by a group of kids. No offense to them, what they were doing would be the kindest thing anyone ever did for Ester, or anyone else they were breaking out for that matter. But the honest truth was, they had no idea what they were doing.

Ester had stopped paying attention to Eziekiel long ago, lost in her own thoughts, dimming her high hopes of escaping. That was a mistake. In the time she had been spaced out, he had managed to put himself in the worst spot her possibly could. She saw Mark's hands go free, him falling to the ground. She put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from betraying the silence that they were relying on right now. She wanted to run to him. To tell him her would be fine. Comfort him until he calmed down. But she couldn't, and she would never be able to.

She hurried as close as she could to Mark, ignoring the pebbles and other things floating off the ground beneath her feet. She needed to get closer. She stopped about five feet away, but only because the debris was moving towards him and she didn't want to be caught in one of the item's paths. She waited there as he began to calm down and wiped at her eyes, realizing she had been crying a bit. She didn't even realized it. Hopefully it wasn't too noticeable. Slowly Mark got back up and smiled at her, she faintly smiled back, but her own smile was probably as fake looking as Mark's had seemed. They weren't okay, but they would deal with it.

Taking a deep breath, Ester tried to change everyone's train of thought. "Is there any more of you? We need to regroup and get a wiggle on if we ever plan on getting out of here." What if they were caught? What kind of horrors would Mr. Torture have in store for them? Surely they would be worse than anything Ester had ever recieved from him. After all, nobody had ever been so close to escaping. It would have been thrilling, if the current circumstances did not apply.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Happy Noko


Hi hands were warm, which she liked, but she wasn't a fan of how close he was holding her. Clearly there was something more than simple charity going on here. Did he actually feel attracted to her?

Well, she didn't have a problem with that. Besides, it wasn't as if she returned the feelings. If he wanted to pine away for a mutated snake doll, then so be it. She could just milk him for what he was worth, the sap.

There was a slight commotion, judging from a sudden flair in body temperature from Mark. He typically did that whenever his powers were in use, Happy observed. Ester seemed to be taking care of it.

And of course, there was the winged boy. Happy could always sense him, with the extra heat spreading to his wings. Another was with him, and....was there...yet another? Happy couldn't tell, but if she had to hazard a guess, it would be the strange demon boy. With his cold skin, it was always difficult for her to pick him out.

Ester suggested leaving, which Happy immediately agreed with. Deciding to urge things on, she spoke softly, "I can sense someone coming. We'll need to leave now." While her statement wasn't exactly true, she could feel some people travelling in their general direction...it was a slight tweak necessary to move them along. And besides, if one of them happened to be Mr. Torture--which, at this point, was too far out of her range to tell for sure--well, everyone could use their imagination.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Samael Barker Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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#, as written by Skwidge
Avalin Seranu


Avalin looked up with an alert look to her eyes as he whispered a question into her ear, and she nodded quietly with a grin. She stood a ways off to the side as Ezekiel strode over to a man who was obviously in chains, and inserted the pick into the lock in attempts to free him. It opened rather quickly, but the reaction the man had was far from gratefulness at that precise moment.

It looked as if Ezekiel had tortured the poor fellow and then shot him. It was not a pretty sight. A feeling of sympathy wrenched Avon’s insides, but she refrained from doing anything- obviously he had freaked out by the close proximity, or, at least that’s what Lynn deduced. He began writhing and sobbing, and finally, his form went completely limp, and for a moment she thought he might have had a seizure or passed out or something.

And then he sneezed, to which a huge grin couldn’t help curl into her lips. ’Aww, he’s just like a little cat!’ After that traumatic experience was over and the man seemed to calm down and get up, and smile at one of his friends, she took a small breath of relief.

His friend then spoke up, reminding Ava of the situation once again, ” "Is there any more of you? We need to regroup and get a wiggle on if we ever plan on getting out of here." Avalin joined the group, making sure to stay away from the strange man as to not upset him again. “Nope, this is all of us. Let’s get going.” She smiled, though it faltered when Jack came on the scene with the snake-girl Evie had told her about, and she said that there was someone coming.

With all that had happened tonight, she most definitely was not going to question anything, and she set off once again herself towards the direction of where the three had come in. She paused and turned around with another good-natured smile, and called out to the others. “Well, you guys coming?”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Samael Barker Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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#, as written by slcam
Ester began to answer Evie's question, but she was suddenly interrupted by the voice of a man. Evie whirled on him, an almost dangerous look in her eye, though in reality, it was more comical than dangerous. Her face, not to mention her personality, was not suited to show any sort of truly threatening expression. The odd look on her face quickly faded when she realized it was another mutant, accompanied by Ava. Evie gave them a short smile, her thoughts quickly moving on to their escape route. Her mind inevitably came again to the thought of being caught, but this only made Evie more ready to get out of the circus grounds.

The new mutant who Ava had brought, however, seemed to have one more priority before they left. Evie noticed him approaching the bound mutant from behind. She raised a hand to her mouth, concerned and uncertain as to what he would do, but since Ester made no move to stop him, Evie decided to stay still. With a sudden movement, the chain was unlocked. The mutant's reaction was almost instant, as he fell to his knees with a horribly pained expression.

Evie let out a near silent gasp, pressing both hands hard to her mouth in an attempt to stifle it. As the poor man writhed on the ground, debris from the ground rising around him, Evie quickly realized that his pain was probably caused by the new mutant's sudden proximity, though the why entirely escaped her. She had done something similar without this extreme of a reaction. She could not figure out why it was different this time.

Slowly, her eyes filled with tears until she could hardly see the man. He was in such apparent pain, and so obviously struggling against it as the quavering pebbles around them seemed to indicate, that Evie could not help but feel for him and wish for any way to help him, any way at all. Finally, a single, large tear fell, releasing the dam until tears fell silently down her cheeks.

Finally, the worst seemed to be over, and Evie composed herself a bit better, stifling an urgent desire to gather the man into her arms and comfort him. What if something was different from before and she caused another horrible reaction? She could not risk that. Suddenly, he sneezed, giving Evie a start and jarring her from her thoughts. He slowly rose, giving a shaky smile to Ester. Perhaps he was alright for the moment?

Taking this as a cue that it was time to leave, Ava began to set off, calling softly back to them. Evie fave a resolute nod back to her friend and followed after. There was no time to lose, morning would come swiftly and they had to be far away by then.

The group quickly hustled to the edge of the grounds, a few close encounters, but nothing terribly risky, though Evie managed to fall a couple more times. Finally, they reached the edge of the grounds, and Evie peered out into the night. Her heart jolted when she saw the large, mostly open ground they would have to cover. She quickly spotted a large thicket of trees not too far from where they stood, which would be a good place to hide for a moment and regroup. She pointed and whispered softly, "There!" She scanned around the group, making sure everyone had seen the area she was indicating.

Hoping they would all follow, and make it, Evie set off first. She carefully scanned the circus tents for any watchful eyes as she hustled, but it was too late into the night for that. All the time they took gathering the various mutants seemed to have placed them at the time when the 'watch' was sleepiest, though it was purely by luck rather than planning.

Finally, Evie made it, quickly turning and counting to herself as the others entered the thicket.

One...

two...

three...

four...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Samael Barker Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Mark Williams Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton
22:10 P.M

There was nothing he could do but stare as Mark reacted, seized by the tortures effects of his powers, and though his stomach twisted in guilt the boy with wings kept his visage steady, void of all emotions aside for the transitory expression of surprise. He should have been more careful, but they needed to go, and the others seemed to be on the same page as him, feeling that danger was nipping at their ankles. “Let’s blow this joint already, good riddance.” He replied, following where one of Ava’s friends had pointed to, smartly into the walls of plants that would gladly conceal them. However, his wings twitched, as if possessing a mind of their own that resisted being trapped in such cramp places, but he silently told them how useless they were and forced the feathered limbs to fold, lest he injure them further.

They complied into a state of inertia as he walked into the branches, the only sounds being inhales, exhales and cracking branches, leafs that crunched underneath their footfalls. Ezekiel almost wanted to hold his breath, fearing that if he made a single noise that was too loud it would travel, shatter their bad luck in a single act of respiration. His fingernails dug into his palms, and he pictured the edge of the circus. All they had to do was continue to head south, past there was what he perceived to be a quiet part of the city, and in it was a train station. They were getting closer to freedom, only feet away, and he made crescent indents in his skin.

Then his nightmare thoughts came true in the form of dogs barking, and the signals echoed into the night, shaking it and sending ice cold water through his blood.

“Shit.” He swore in a hushed hiss, his mind paralyzed for a second before his spine shot up straight, the adrenaline digging claws into his bones, fittingly triggering a reaction of flight. Nevertheless, his true instinct wasn’t selfish, and his first priority was to turn his head to the others, and of those that hadn’t made it to the thicket, with his eyes wild and fierce, more awake than they have been in his entire existence. “We have to run, now.” For some reason, perhaps he felt responsible or was simply indebted, Ezekiel reached for Avalin and grabbed her wrist, stepping out of their cover and into the camp, which wouldn’t be empty for long. “Run south and don’t stop running.” This was all he could manage, unable to add where they should meet if they were to become separated in the rush. It was all happening too fast, and with his heart pounding he looked towards Ava, seconds from running for his life, and hoping that they wouldn’t be caught, or worse, killed.