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Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn

"The most handsome face in the Priory. No wonder I'm kept around."

0 · 373 views · located in New Boston

a character in “What Is Human?”, as played by Shadow44499

Description

Image


Accessing Subject Registration File....


Name: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn

Alias: Maccabeus, Mac, Breaker, or Salesman.

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Threat: Moderate-High Threat

Known Affiliations: Confirmed High Ranking Priory Member, Underground Marketeer


Appearance:



Image


Subject stands at 6'1 in height and was last weighed at 213 lbs. Subject has blond hair and blue eyes, with pale skin. Caucasian in decent; he has a light beard, full and blond as well. The subject is devoid of any tell tale scars and tattoos other than a large burn mark on his back. Samuel is known to have a stocky build, obviously muscled but not overly strong.

Normal apparel during sightings includes finer clothing, such as business jackets, overcoats, Frock Overcoats, Frock Coats, button-up shirts, ties, slacks, and oddly enough dress shoes or dress boots. One known item the subject is always know to wear is an old wristwatch, close up images have identified it as a home-crafted silver and golden watch made in the mid 1930's, possible family origin, otherwise unknown.

Criminal Record: Criminal Record as Follows: 3 counts of Assault on Law Officials with Deadly Weapons, 7 Counts of Assault on Law Officials, 3 counts of Rioting, 2 counts of Vandalism of Government Property, 2 counts of Blackmail, 2 counts of Violent Disorder against Law Enforcement, 2 count of Membership of proscribed organizations (Priory of the Free Mind, New Boston 'Free' Market), 7 counts of Fund-Raising for a Terrorist Organization, 2 counts of Directing or Leading a Terrorist Operation, 2 counts of Disclosure prejudicing, or interference of material relevant to, investigation of terrorism, 4 counts of Possession of articles for terrorist purposes, 9 counts of Concealing criminal property, 26 counts Acquisition, use or possession of criminal property, 3 counts of Arson, 1 count of Possession of firearm without certificate, 7 counts of Dealing in firearms, 17 counts of Escaping from lawful custody without force, 3 counts of escaping from Lawful custody with force, 4 counts of Rescue of individuals in lawful custody, 1 count of Assisting prisoners to escape, 1 count of Bomb hoax, 3 counts of Forgery, and 1 count of Public Exposure.

Subject is considered to be armed and dangerous.

Subject owes 560,000 dollars in fines to the state.

Subject is a known Psi and has been marked missing for 12 Bimonthly Screenings.





Equipment Proficiencies:

  • Firearms. (Particularly with lighter arms such as pistols, heavy pistols, and sub-machine guns.)

  • Repair. (Samuel knows his way around a tool-set.)

  • Small Blades. (Sammy during his younger years in the slums of Denver learning his way around knives, shivs, shanks, and switches.)

Skills:

  • Haggling - Samuel was and is a Black Marketeer. That comes with certain skills and knowing how to skivvy your way down a price range to get the goods you want or need.

  • Logistics - Mainly on the goods and gear side. Sam is the chief supplier for a lot of goods that come through and out of the Priory. He normally knows what the organization needs, when it needs and how to get it, if not he knows someone that can.

  • Vehicular Anatomy - Samuel knows most vehicles in and out, he can fix them, build them, and scrap them.

  • Stealth and Blending - When you're a wanted criminal with a half a million dollar bounty on your head you learn to sneak or blend in with a crowd... or you get your head blown off.

  • Driving - Mac knows how to drive a car, bike, or truck rather well. It comes in handy when a little blue-boy spots you and tries to chase you down.

Psi Level: Subject is a known level 3 Psi. (Samuel is indeed level 5, his powers have spiked as a result of training, use, and further exposure to Psionic energy in the two years he avoided his screenings.)

Known Abilities:

  • Resonance Control - Subject is known to be able to control sound waves and pulses and bend, manipulate, move, and even amplify at will. This ability is to be considered extremely dangerous and can shift or even possible take apart structures with correct frequencies (Since Samuel has joined the Priory his power has increased, Sam is now able to destroy composite structures and control multiple frequencies at once. This can even be lethal, cor correct frequencies can damage internal organs.

  • Psionic Constructs - Subject is known to display the ability to create barriers and other basic tools out of Psionic Energy. This is primarily a defensive ability and is not lethal unless objects ricochet upon the newly formed construct, which has been documented.

  • Telepathy - Subject is know to be gifted with telepathy as are most Psi's. This subject can communicate freely through this ability and is known to use it as a device to speak with his allies. (Samuel's skill in this power has increased too. He can implant minor ideas into the minds of his foes. He cannot force them to look away but he can make them forget a small task or detail.)

  • Telekinesis - Minor Telekinesis, subject is not know to be able to lift objects more than 20 lbs. (Samuel can now move objects of around 300 lbs but is not where near able to say move a vehicle or barricade with this alone.)


Personality: Subject's personality has been reviewed and is as follows, new information pending: His most noticed trait is known to be his kindness and mercy, despite a large criminal record subject appears to not enjoy taking life and is in fact benevolent among benefactors and allies. Subject is also know be cynical of most humans at first. Samuel is known to be good and level headed under pressure, a competent leader and capable solider. During prior engagements with law enforcement he prefers to run at trouble as opposed to fight. Unless the odds are in his favor. If the subject openly engages you be wary, he has likely planned the engagement prior or has confidence in his ability to pacify the treat posed against him.

Role in story: The Priory's second in command and a major player in the Black Markets.

History:
Accessing Subject's Known Biography... One moment please


Access Granted. All known files on display and formatted chronologically.


Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn was born to James Castillo Hawethorn (Alive, Denver) and Susan Mary Hawethorn (Deceased) in Manchester, England, on March 2nd, 2006. Subject was known to have an uneventful childhood life, going through primary school as an exceptional student. During which his best friend was Ian Wells Singer (deceased). He was a childhood tenis player and aspired to be a poet or author when he grew older. Samuel was detailed in a newspaper for a his poetry at age 9.

Samuel and his family took a trip to Denver and the US when he was 10 years of age. It was during this vacation that the Dawning occurred. As far as details can tell he and his family where at a Public Park when the event took place. Samuel and his father were both imbued with Psionic energy during the event. Tragically, the subject's Mother was killed during the chaos and her body was never recovered. Samuel was 13 years old when documented and chipped. Forced to settle in Denver, Samuel lived there until 16 years of age and was then transferred to New Boston for his selected career.

In new Boston the subject dutifully worked at his assigned task until he became involved with the gang life and Black Marketeering in the area. He ran the streets as a petty criminal until he was 25 years old. The subject was then apprehended by local law enforcement during a set up deal. Subject escaped police apprehension by force and has been wanted ever since.

Samuel began missing regular check-ups due and was soon confirmed as a an acting member of the Priory soon after. He has been known to hold respect among his cell and has been sighted leading on several missions. Subject's criminal activities spiked intensely, an obvious sign of rebellion. Before long Samuel became known to us as the second head of the organization. One of their leaders. He is to be detained and interrogated at all possible but has so far eluded grasp and control.



RP Sample:
One Year Prior to Current Events

His boots hit the ground with hard thuds of leather upon twisted concrete. The shouts of angered officers and the flash of siren lights behind him. The Psi didn't stop for a moment, his lungs burned and his legs hurt. After twenty minutes of being chased through interconnected back alleyways the damn pigs were still on his tail.

He kept moving though, he wouldn't let his freedom be stripped from him yet. Not for some extra food that he traded a few insignificant drugs for. He should have known that deal was bugged, he should have known it. However, before the bedraggled and exhausted escapee could catch his breathe and finish his thought he saw shadows behind him and two Police Officer's armed and ready rounding the corner.

"Hands up, Freak! Hands up or we'll put a bullet in you, fucking Sideshow."

They approached, carefully and quickly. All Sammy could do was place his hands up... And then concentrate, before the cops knew what hit them he suddenly jerked forward. A screeching resonance burning into their ears; both of the officer's dropped the ground clutching their ears with loud screams. Both in pain as their eardrums popped and the wave shocked their bodies. Mac twisted himself nimbly and darted once more through the decaying streets. Two loud, resounding booms sounded behind him as one officers half came to his senses and opened fire. Both shoots missing by a longshot, echoing off objects they hit instead of him. Twisting another corner he dragged open a gutter lid hastily and slid in. There were soon skids and sirens above him but he could care less, he really could. All he cared about now was the sound of his boots hitting the damp floor and the fact he that he was almost home-free. The cops would never find him, all he had to do was go deeper into the labyrinthine expanse of concrete, steel, and stone that made up the surface and underworld of New Boston.

He ran for what seemed hours. Ducking down more tunnels and grates, climbing down ladders and leaping into pits of stagnant water contained under the streets. The sound of pursuit ended and his lungs stung. There was only one safe haven for him now. He had considered it for weeks, everyone knew the rumors. This was the tipping point. Soon he came across his destination; he panted and stammered in before looking about the chamber strewn with makeshift dwellings of a base. This was his salvation, and soon to be his cause. The Priory of the Free Mind.




Password: Deifier

So begins...

Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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Tailing someone. It was such an old art. Sneakily following someone or something through dark and foreboding alleyways to discern information or some other fact. Other times it was a game. A game that kids played, running back and forth on a play ground trying to outwit and out-hide each other. The principle was always the same, a silent step and an avoidance for the all-knowing glare of light.

Samuel pondered this as he moved and shifted amongst the broken stones an decaying metal that made up the labyrinth of the bones. He had been keeping tabs on the same man for the past couple of days, a tip from Xiaoyan that someone had been gleaning about the lost and forsaken tunnels that made up the Priory's hiding web. They were like spiders these days, mingling with the interplay of the tunnels and channels to avoid the gaze and watch of their enemies and better defend themselves from usurpers, reavers, and other such hostiles.

At this point, Samuel had reckoned that this man was no foe nor any threat to his organization. He was far too lost and far to worn and weary at this said point. It was interesting, however, that one would spend so much time underground as this one had been. So Samuel kept up his pursuit, slowly treading shadows and pathways above, around, or behind the traveler until he felt an appropriate point to reveal himself and intentions; if a point were to ever surface.

Each time Jonathan would look over his shoulder, Sammie would find some way to duck or avoid detection. He even blended in! His black frock coat and slacks fading into the shadows with ease; it helped that he was also no slouch at treading shadow and knew much the Bones like the back of his own hands. Even the halls he didn't know where marked at some point with particular ticks and graffiti leaving a code or trail for any other members of the Priory to know where to move and where they were. It was a neat and organized system akin to the systems that French Resistance Fighters used whilst hiding amongst the vast sprawl of Paris in the 1940s.

It wasn't long however, before Jonathan stopped and took a bite to eat. Samuel actually did the same. He took the brief moment to pull out wrapped piece of bread from his coat's inner pocket. Silently eating and resting; that is until the noise of boots and others came down the below Sam's location. He quickly stood and looked across the hall. There was a broken section that lead into a small filtering chamber. He quickly and silent slid into the crevasse. The three thugs walking right past him in the dim light and dust filled air.

He had to move if he wanted to stay with Jonathan. Across the room as an access ladder to the next chamber above him. The stench in here was atrocious; musky water and sewage waste heading down to bigger pipes. Samuel moved across and took the ladder, climbing up it as silently as possible. Upon reaching the next level he'd disembark and make his way through a gate that gave access to the other side of the tunnels. Now he ran opposite to Jonathan. However, the noise of a combustion and men falling and couple shots allowed him to get back on course. He was curious to as who was winning but made no attempt to find out.

The pathway turned and sloped downwards and then cut a corner. Samuel was now jogging to keep pace as the sounds of combat slowly dissipated as he drew further away. By chance the winding and twisting of the many pipes and sloped tunnels soon lead him right into a room parallel with the one Jonathan was in. At a slower pace; Samuel moves into the center of the room. Drawing and failing to locate which way leads where and which way leads towards Jonathan. That is until a wall too his left suddenly collapsed and on the other side of the improvised pathway was opened and low and behold there was Jonathan.

"Oh fuck... Well! Fancy meeting you here!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Thomas Kenny Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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"Oh fuck... Well! Fancy meeting you here!"

"Dont you think that may have been slightly cliche?"

The voice was a musical chuckle, chiding Samuel from a bright place in his own mind.

Xiaoyan wasnt there of, course. Wrapping her hands around a chipped mug, she enjoyed the heat and comfort and light that many others in the Bones could only dream about. She had a sturdy if often-repaired chair beneath her, a string of decorative lights cast a comforting glow around the masonry of her so-called office and home, and if she closed her eyes and hoped /really/ hard, she might still faintly taste the tea leaves that graced the bottom of the cup weeks ago.

Here at the center of the proverbial web, it wasnt long before her attention was inevitably tugged away, and Samuel would be aware that the light touch at the periphery of his attention moved away, leaving him alone again like the sun gone behind a cloud.

Spreading her fingers across the papers before her, she wasnt worried. Samuel could handle himself, or she wouldnt have trusted him alone. Xiaoyan's ephemral presences may occasionally flit to look over the shoulders of her agents; but it was an act of curiosity rather than mistrust. She didnt get out much, herself, when there was so much work to do behind the scenes.

The newspaper smuggled from above detailed the uproar caused by her latest machinations. She'd known that sending a man into the fire would be unpleasant in the extreme. The reaction had been what she'd expected. Abrupt backpeddling from his long-term supporters. Cries of condemnation. A letter of resignation that couldnt be filed fast enough. But the commotion and uproar it'd caused had given the underdogs hope. It might be only prolonging the inevitable, but for that window of time Psi children would get a chance at education.

With a soft sigh and a curious leafing through pages of sports and buisness dribble, Xiaoyan lifted the paper off of her scavenged metal desk and cast it into the ever-hungry firepit that dominated the corner of the room; giving warmth against the damp and cold of the water-level Bones where the Priory made its haven.

A report of supplies - always dangerously low - required her to juggle the needs of her sanctuary; sending a team of the Priory out to scavenge while others she sent away entirely to lessen the burden. Someone wounded in a skirmish with a Psi-CON ambush had an update on a route that was no longer safe. Another suspected his partner of being a spy. Paranoia, simple dislike, or very real threat?

Finally, with the most pressing tasks sorted, Xiaoyan sighed and closed her eyes. Letting her mind go with the breath, she plucked at the threads of light that floated around her. Most of those closest were satisfied, if ringed in fatigue and the vague unease of the hunted. She sought farther; away from the bright nest of light and life that was the Priory and into the dark, fearful skitterings of the Bones. She was familiar with who she sought, but spotting him still took care when he was 'hunting' as he was now.

Even then, the sudden tangle of dark, twisted threads that jutted and grasped took her by surprise every time, and it was a long moment before she picked her way delicately through the thorny, dangerous tangles that desparately grabbed at her as if to catch and smother her light.

She didnt speak - just watched for a moment before reaching out again with D3d Lyt3 as a starting point until she found the bright thread she was looking for. Alone, hurt, and scared.

Reaching out with warmth like a friendly smile, Thomas would suddenly be aware of a movement from behind his shoulders. Small and non-threatening, a bird flutters to a perch near a tunnel junction. Small with brilliant black eyes and bright yellow-gold feathers that looked like they cast their own light in the gloom.

Tilting its head this way and that, and looking up as the sounds of something heavy hitting concrete, the bird leaves the broken rebar and shoots down a tunnel that he may not otherwise have considered, setting on a piece of rubble to look at him again. As escape routes go, it wasnt one he might normally approve of - strange animals that had no right to exist down here and all - but there are distant scrabblings in the rubble that suggest whatever happened back there was making enough noise to attract things. Things attracted to trouble in the Bones were never good news.

Take his chances with the Reavers, or see just how deep the rabbit hole went?

Setting

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Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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As he emerged from his makeshift entrance amongst the rubble and destruction, Jonathan froze. His blood ran cold like liquid ice. It flowed through his body and solidified until he couldn't move a muscle. A figure stood in the clearing dust. A figure he did not know. Clarity returned with such intensity that it thawed the chill locking his body instantly and he took a step back swallowing several times to wet his dry throat.

"Oh fuck... Well! Fancy meeting you here!" the mystery man spoke to him. In ordinary circumstances he would have said something against the rather cliche phrase, but this situation was far from normal, though it was starting to become repetitive. He couldn't seem to go anywhere in the Bones anymore without running into another prospective scavenger picking the bones of this once great place. It was for this same reason he had gained, and taken, the nickname Pack Rat. The teen gave the stranger an appraising look quickly, judging whether he would be a threat. At first glance he would say there was an equal chance of either coming out the victor in a fight. However, when taking into account their location, he thought otherwise. He hadn't met very many stiffs who would travel into the Bones willingly unless they were rent-a-cops - or worse. Jonathan shifted his stance, ready to fight or flee at a moments notice.

He didn't want to hurt two men in one day, but with all that was happening he was seeing little other choice. He began to raise his hands, but then stopped. Something inside him, a voice deep within, whispered in his ear, warning him against hurting whoever the stranger could be. Jonathan paused. When he raised his hands again the same warning flashed in his mind. This wasn't entirely knew to him. He had always had a particular knack for avoiding too much trouble whenever he followed his instincts, despite being against the idea of trusting something so unpredictable.

A friend from years before had told him many times to trust more in his instinct, that it would likely save his life one day. He hadn't really believed in his friend's words, despite the fact that his friend was a low level Psi with some basic precognitive abilities. He didn't think that his friend could really "see" that far into his future to predict it. It was only after he had ignored his instincts a few months later, which resulted in the death of one of the few friends he had ever had in his life, that Jonathan began to listen to his own voice within. Since then it had come in handy, though it sometimes made him overly cautious, almost to the point of paranoia which was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He had seen, and experienced secondhand, the effects that paranoia could have on someone. The fate of his mother was still unknown to Jonathan, but he tried not to dwell on it. He pushed all thoughts about his mother away into the dark corners of his mind were the wild things inside him scurried like rats.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing again, Jonathan glanced to the side at a wall not far from the two. He lifted up his right hand to it and opened it with a flick of his fingers. A resounding boom bounced off of the walls around them and echoed far into the distance. Huge chunks of the wall he had just blasted a near three feet wide crater into were hurled past them. A few of the smaller pieces patted against him and the dust began to creep closer before dispersing. his hazel eyed gaze lingered on the crater for a moment as the thoughts of his brother Chris clawed their way out of the deep pit they had been left to rot in. His brother had ripped a crater just like that into the Earth on the day of the Dawning, the other had just disappeared. He pushed this all behind a door and locked it away somewhere far from him conscious mind where it could do no damage. His display over, Jonathan turned his eyes back to the new man.

"I'm gonna give you this one chance," he started slowly, his accent holding a slight southern sound, "walk away - now - or I'll do the same fucking thing to you." Jonathan readied his hands at his sides. More than anything else in that moment he wished that he would not have to harm the stranger. One possible death was more than enough for him to deal with in one day. But, that is not to say he wouldn't fight if his well being was threatened. His hands were at his sides, but he could draw his "weapons" quick, quicker than a good number. He was ready for the stranger if it came to a fight as most of his encounters down in the Bones with other Psi had, he just prayed he wouldn't have to harm another stranger.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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The man stood there as the rubble cleared. He adjusted his jacket and grinned; not at the situation beforehand but Xiaoyan's comment within the recesses of his mind and the knowledge of her presence. It was fleeting, however, and Sammie made no response other then a brief chuckle.

His attention snapped back towards Jonathan as needed though. He observed the male getting into a defensive stance. He could see the distrust that could possibly lead to aggression in the younger male's eyes. And by all accounts Samuel did not want this meeting to end up anywhere near as violent as Jonathan's last. Samuel himself placed his hands behind his back and straightened himself out similar to a stance of Parade Rest in a military formation. Every motion from a flick of his eyes to even his breathing was calculated to seem as non-aggressive as possible but still maintain a pose to seemingly look vigilant.

Even as the other Psi raised his hands Samuel held his ground. He was nearly unflinching. Though as a precaution Samuel placed a telekinetic barrier around himself. It gave a faint shimmer in certain patterns against the dim light of the Bones. It would undoubtly be visible to Jonathan at one point or another. Sooner than later actually; as Jonathan shattered the wall near to them rocks and dust were visibly deflected by the moderately powered shielding. The debris fell harmlessly to the ground and Samuel chuckled and then looked over at Jonathan as he spoke.

"I'm gonna give you this one chance walk away - now - or I'll do the same fucking thing to you."


He'd actually give a laugh at that. It wasn't a cruel or mocking laugh, it was however genuinely amused. He'd pause quickly enough though and focus his eyes back on the younger man once more. He though for a good moment before opening his own mouth to speak. He had accent of his own and it most definitely of English origin it was slight bred in with the local however.

"Relax... I'm not here to hurt you. Hell, if I were it would have happened along time ago back in the tunnels when I had the drop on you."


With that the barrier about him would drop and Samuel would give a relaxed sigh as the weight of holding the energy was released. He moved his arms to cross them under his chest and actually gave Jonathan and friendly if not careless smile.

"I've been following you through the tunnels, you've been taking some odd patterns if you ask me. I'm curious to as why. But for now I'm here with two choices. I can deliver you unto safety or I can take you to the surface. No charge, no tricks. I'm on your side. If you fail to comply and chose the latter will be decided for you."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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Every instinct in his mind told him to run, run fast. To run so fast that no one could follow. But he stood his ground. The man's now obvious shield had worried him at first when the chunks of wall had collided with air, but he refused to be afraid of a simple shield. For all Jonathan knew that could be his only ability, his only way of fighting back. He adjusted his bag and coat slightly, thankful the dark, fraying fabric only fell to his knees, and shifted his stance. He was prepared to run, but tried to keep it as subtle as possible. His new "friend" had the decency to portray benevolence, he might as well show a little less distrust, though he was considering choosing against this after the man's reacting to his, admittedly, weak threat.

"Relax... I'm not here to hurt you. Hell, if I were it would have happened a long time ago back in the tunnels when I had the drop on you."

The faint shimming of his shield faded from the air before him as the man, Jonathan assumed, lowered the barrier blocking all from reaching him. Logically he knew that this was suppose to be a sign of trust and that he should reply in kind some way. However, he also knew that revealing you had been following someone and could have hurt them at any point was not the best way to inspire trust and good feelings between people. Despite this, Jonathan reluctantly relaxed his stance, though a familiar wariness lingered. While the man had his arms crossed casually, Jonathan's remained mostly at his sides with his hands closed over slightly, still ready to be used when needed. The stranger's smile was not matched either. Jonathan still held his usual expression.

"I've been following you through the tunnels, you've been taking some odd patterns if you ask me. I'm curious to as why. But for now I'm here with two choices. I can deliver you unto safety or I can take you to the surface. No charge, no tricks. I'm on your side. If you fail to comply and chose the latter will be decided for you."

Giving a gentle sigh, Jonathan nodded. He took a moment to think it though. Firstly, the information about following Jonathan had revealed a lot more than the teen had first realized. The man hadn't just been following Jonathan, he had been managing to remain hidden despite the careful measures the teen had taken to avoid getting noticed. So, either he had an ability that involve knowing a location, or - more likely - he had an intimate knowledge of the Bones and its many pathways. Second, the stranger himself had seemed different to Jonathan since first seeing him when he broke through the wall into the room he know stood within. He was too confident, too bold, to be a simple tunnel dwelling Psi. And too clean.
'Nothing makes sense about him. Unless...'

"The Priory...?" Jonathan said to himself softly, barely more than a whisper. It brought sense to all of the points about the situation, and it would make his life so much easier. He considered for a second longer, then nodded as he decided on what he would do. He turned his eyes back to the stranger.
"Alright," he said before clearing his throat quietly, "lead the way to your 'safety'." The only way to see if his theory was right would be to get on this ride and go wherever it may take him. He once again fixed his clothes and hesitantly took a step forwards, waiting to be escorted.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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After the Brute had chosen a girl, Jack Dog turned back to Cecilia.
Sorry about him.” He apologized but Cecilia merely shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled before turning around to make her way back into her office, but Jack Dog stopped her, grabbing her wrist, his skin was rough yet his touch was gentle. Cecilia turned slightly to look at him.
Thank you.” He whispered, Cecilia smiled at him.
“I don’t think it’d be fair for me to share your secret with anyone.” She told him, reassuring him that his sexuality would most definitely be one of the few secrets she would keep.
Well, since you’re helping with that, I think you should know about another broker.” Cecilia spun full around to look him in the eyes, her head tilted slightly as her eyebrows knotted.
“Excuse me?”
There’s another broker in the slums, I heard that he’s part of the black market too…” Jack Dog told him and Cecilia knew exactly what he was going to say after that, so she said it for him.
“And guns are more important than girls.” Cecilia sighed, before walking into the office, beckoning for Jack to follow her.

Cecilia took her seat behind the desk and placed her elbow on the desk, resting her head in her hand, running a finger over her cheek nervously. “What else do you know about him?”
Well, I’ve heard people call him the Salesman, although I’ve heard it’s just an anagram of his name, I’m not sure how true that is. He’s also a member of the Priory, so he’ll have their support if you go after him.” Jack Dog told Cecilia but it didn’t help her in finding him.
“You don’t know where I’d be able to find him?” She asked, looking up at him, her eyes were full of worry. Not only was this her live, but it was only place these girls could feel safe, Cecilia made a habit of making sure each girl was protected by teaching them how to fight and also acquiring them each a body guard. Here the girls were safe and cared for, if she lost her broking business it’d be very hard to keep the standards up and a lot of the girls would have to be let go and sent out to fend for themselves.
I’d check the sewers, if you can’t find him there, I’m sure the people in the markets would be able to tell you were he is.” Cecilia nodded, the sewers would be her last resort, she’d check the markets and see if anyone there knew him, send her girls out to find him as well and then if both failed she’d go after him, down into the sewers.
“Thank you.” She finally said after a few moments of silence. Jack Dog bowed his head and left the office.

Cecilia stood in her room, by the window, she had pulled the curtains open and was now staring out over the slums. Right now, she was losing business because she didn’t provide her clients with guns just a few girls and she knew her clients would all prefer a gun rather than some fun. Cecilia thought about it for a moment, she could easily project and go down there now, but if he’s a member of the Priory, he’s obviously a Psi and will most likely detecting her presence, especially if he has telepathic powers. Cecilia turned to look at her bed and let out a deep breath, before calling the young girl from earlier in. “Alana?” The young girl poked her head in through a crack in the door.
Yeah?” She asked, smiling at Cecilia.
“Can you send out a few of the girls to find a man who uses the alias of Salesman, get them to check the markets, someone down there is bound to know him.” Alana nodded but didn’t leave the room, she looked nervous.
Thank… Thank you.” Cecilia looked up at the girl and smiled, she then opened her arms for the girl to hug her and Alana ran into her arms, Cecilia felt her squeeze and she rested her head on the teenagers head.
“It’s okay.” Alana pulled away from the hug and ran from the room. Cecilia let out a shaky breath and wiped a tear from her eye as she striped down to her underwear and threw a loose fitting shirt on before lying on the bed and letting herself drift off.

Cecilia sat up and looked down at her physical body, lying so still as if it was dead, if she was in it right now a shiver would crawl up her spine yet when she was projecting she could feel very little in the body. Cecilia looked at the window, there was a slightly reflection that only she could see, her entire form was a ghostly white and translucent, she could be mistaken for a ghost, if only they existed. She was in a white dress, it was held up by two traps on her shoulders and stopped just above her knee and her feet were bare, her hair was loose and down, touching her shoulder blades and swaying slightly. Shaking her head, she quickly lifted herself from the bed and ran for the window, phasing through it and plummeting down towards the fast approaching ground, but she felt nothing as she merely fell through it as if it was air, she stopped as she was in one of the sewer tunnels and followed the mazelike structures and made her way through the sewers, hoping she’d find him soon, she might be invulnerable to physical attacks in this form but the sewers still creeped her out none the less. After a while of searching the sewers, she could hear voices.
"Alright, lead the way to your 'safety'." She heard someone say, assuming they were talking about the Priory she assumed she’d find the Priory by following them, hoping they weren’t telepathic Psi. She quickly hovered after the voice, coming across two men, both exceptionally tall, one blond and the other brunette.

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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Samuel stood there as the boy thought. He was waiting, patiently, and mostly still. His foot however, inside a penny loafer dress shoe, continued to tap the stone floor with soft echo's that filled the silent with Bones with a resounding tap. It even had a rhythm to it, but that was beside the point. While they waited there was that noise alongside the silence of a Bones making an eery orchestra.

"Alright, lead the way to your 'safety'."


The man would come straight back to attention and give yet another one of those smiles. He'd clap his hands together and nod once before turning into the slanted pathway that he entered from and walking toward it as he spoke. The English voice filling the empty room.

"Right-o. Follow me then. I promise I'll be quick. Whats your name by the way? You can have mine. I'm Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn, you may have seen it about."

With that he'd enter the tunnel and towards the top he'd pause. It was more like a jerking and startled pause than anything. He felt something nearby. Moreso, someone. Samuel was a moderately powerful telepath. He couldn't quite find out where this entity was or what it was but he knew something was there. He stayed paused and grinned; a plan soon in mind. Then he carried on into the darkness that was the Bones.

Samuel would lead Jonathan and his follower through the tunnels if whatever was on his tail continued to follow. It was a pathway that took many ups and downs through many broken and beaten tunnels. There were heaps of broken steal and concrete and the occasional gunshot and scream that echoed the labyrinth. Now and then Samuel would stop and noticeably scan the corners of the walls as if peering at something. Sometimes he'd go down these halls and other times he'd avoid them.
It was a long journey. Three or four hours passed by as Samuel tried to make idle small talk and discern small things about the male accompanying him such as age, place of birth, more notably if he were chipped.

That would all cease however as up came the sound of rushing water. Now Samuel's trap would come into place if the entity was still on his trail. They were now well-within the confines of the Priory's haven which was like a telepathic hornet's nest. Xiaoyan and many other telepaths of various levels had a constant watch on the place. Samuel was visibly grinning as he jumped from the tunnel onto bridge of pipes that ran over a chamber of water. Voices were heard below and coming towards them in the tunnel on the other side as well as torch light. Samuel picked up the pace; jogging across the bridgeway before leaping into the tunnel full of light. There he'd wait for Jonathan to meet him as a few people appeared behind Samuel.

"Welcome to the door to of the Priory, friend."


He then quickly thought a message to Xiaoyan. Nearly praying she'd hear it, not out of fear but more out of amusement than anything.

"Hey, boss. I'm home and have a guest... Maybe two..."

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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Cecilia watched as the blond man smiled and clapped his hands, before turning on his heels and leading the other man up a slanted pathway, like he knew it well.
"Right-o. Follow me then. I promise I'll be quick. Whats your name by the way? You can have mine. I'm Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn, you may have seen it about." He finally spoke, his accent English, making Cecilia feeling slightly nostalgic and homesick, a slight smile spreading across her face. She then listened as the two said their names, not really paying attention to the brunette, from the sounds of it he wasn't affiliated with the Priory just yet. She listened to the conversation and continued to follow them until she stopped. Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn, Cecilia stopped for a minute, calculating the name in her head. She used her finger as a pencil and wrote the name in the air, moving the letters to spell out Salesman. Cecilia immediately wiped the letters away and flew up to the two men, whispering into Samuel's ear.
"You'll find me where men seek comfort, women too. God forbid, that anyone follow you." She whispered cryptically, implanting images of the hotel and an image of her turning around to look at someone, it would show her frame and face, hair and a simple red dress. The image would be blurry but if he managed to find her, the image would clear up and if he ever thought about the image after meeting with her it'd be clear as day, well as clear as day for the people in the shiny buildings.

Cecilia then flew through the sewer roof, spinning like a dancer and flew straight back to the hotel, returning to her body. She opened her eyes slowly and sat up, her head ached a little, something it did when she was detected. "Slimy bugger." She whispered to herself, knowing that he was trying to lead her into a trap. The Priory, most likely full of telepaths and detectors who would have ripped her to shreds because they would have been threatened by an intruder. Cecilia made her way to the wardrobes and changed into a red dress. She then put on some shoes and a necklaces to match, before leaving her room and leaving the room, Alana was still standing at the door, Alana was a low level telepath with some mind wiping capabilities and idea implantation abilities.
"Where did you go?" She asked Cecilia as they walked down the stairs, Alana managed to keep in step with Cecilia as they made their way briskly down the stairs to the lobby. "I felt you projecting." She admitted.
"I went to find him, his name's Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn." Cecilia told the young girl, how arched an eyebrow.
"I've heard that name before." Alana looked as if she was trying to think, but the thought just seemed to flow from her mind. One problem with her mind wiping and idea plantation, it all muddled into one and she never knew which were her own memories or which were someone else. "I remember now! I remember reading about him in a Psi-CON report, I was meant to arrest him but I never found him. It's like he just disappeared." Cecilia looked at Alana with a confused face, the memory obviously wasn't hers but it was clearly from a Psi-CON operative and he's clearly wanted.

Alana then ran off to try and remember the thought, leaving Cecilia to plan for her guest, he'd obviously be awhile but she needed to plan ahead, she needed to get her girls and her guys ready for a possible fight. Cecilia made her way to her office and called the four girls that guarded the office to come in and asked one of them to gather Cecilia's personal body guards.

Once the 7 had gathered, Cecilia stood in front of them and spoke,
"I'm going to be having a guest coming within the next few days, his name is Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn. So from now on, every male that comes here must have his name taken." Cecilia paused for them to process this. "If his name comes up, he is to be escorted straight to my office, one of you will come inform me as soon as he is led to you." Cecilia said to the girls. "You can go now, decide amongst you how will do what." With that Cecilia let the 7 guards leave before she opened her weapons drawer and lifted out the claws, placing them onto her fingers, they just looked like rings but they were her best and most discreet weapons, her Colt Junior 25, placed in the thigh holster under her skirt and a dagger in the sheath under her skirt on the other thigh, she was ready for a fight even if their wasn't one, at least she was prepared.

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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#, as written by Raidose
Darkness. Sweet, cradling darkness wrapped him, letting him lounge slothfully within his own mind as he slid out of the pilot's seat. Sensations came as faint echoes. The flick of muscle, the sinking plunge. The slight resistance given by tissue as it was pierced. The warm, slipperiness slowly coating the grip. A twist, a pop, and that was all. It all came in passing waves, ushered on by the cackles of his cohort. Scarecrow made this boring little plays so energetic, filling it with so much enthusiasm, that at times it was hard not to share his enjoyment. It was quite infectious. To constantly fight urges, to constantly battle for control, it was simply not feasible anymore. The damage from the war still needed tending to. And then it came, a parting light to his blissful dream. A flittering, feathered figure perched upon his gate to consciousness, a small gleaming bird which still shined for but a moment. The message, though was clear.

Mmmm.... Little birdie.... the malignant being hissed, inching closer with hands of knives. His grinned and chittered as his inched closer, till his advance was halted by the tar at his feet. Groaning, roaring, howling in complete objection as the ooze crawled up his legs and a thousand spindly fingers dug into his flesh. A single massive hand shot up, latching onto his face, prying the mask away from his control. Sinew and tendons stretched and tore till finally the meat surrendered and the mask was ripped from the front of his skull. Another fist of twisting darkness manifested, hurling the manic apparition into the bleak nothingness yet again. Bubbling up from the primeval slime, Oz slid the mask once more over the flesh of his own features, banishing away the architecture of this minds insanity away and bringing back the light of reality. A blood-stained knife in his hand, three more bodies at his feet. Blood attracts blood, indeed.

His foot shoved the lifeless mass into the rivers of Styx, cursing it to drift endlessly into oblivion. No one who cared would ever know, and no one who knew would ever care. The Bones had a neat way of staying clean. Reavers were territorial, but they were not stupid by any length. More may claim to covet thy neighbor's home, but if they found bodies, they'd be out for blood. Ah, but how easily things could vanish. Another kick, slosh, and splash committed another soul to the ferryman. He leaned back on his heel, feeling the ball of telekinetic energy build up underfoot, before the burst sent his soaring back into the shade of the tunnels. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to the boy, if only to mutilate his perception of reality a bit more. Yes. Harmless, sweet fun. Very well, then home awaits. Boots impacted against stone, puddles parting from the burst of power. A dart of shadow, racing through the tunnels that snaked in and out of the original earth, speeding along till he found something new to catch his eye. This one was odd, ethereal, ephemeral. She touched this would from a dream, lingering about like a wayward spirit. Still she drifted ever searching, nearing the voice D3d LyT3 knew all too well.

"Right-o. Follow me then. I promise I'll be quick. Whats your name by the way? You can have mine. I'm Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn, you may have seen it about."

Hmmph...

Dropping his name so carelessly like that. Idiot.

All the more attention away from us.

Why is he her right hand, again?

Could be that he doesn't have a committee in his head.

As the ghost peered on them, he peered on her. Stalking the stalker, hunting the hunter, till finally she became aware of Samuel's plan. While scaring her away with a virtual telepathic blender was quite clever, it still let her vanish away with who he was. Worse yet, she now had some clue where the Priory was, vague though it may be. So many questions about her floated in D3d LyT3's mind, and slowly they all began to fill themselves in. The more he clung, unseen and unfelt, to her shadow, the more of her memories he was able to peek on. He may have blushed if he could, but still he searched on. A birthday party, and her present was the end of the world. A new family, which eliminated the old. She held few loyalties, only to her and hers. She dipped into things a little girl like her really shouldn't know, and oh how juicy the details. She had a very proud amount of intel, enough to contend with Samuel. Ah.... that was it. Competition. Her and hers. She was a survivor, and a survivor gets by from never having to worry about a competitor. This made Samuel a threat to her, and with her outlook, it made her a threat to the Priory. This night was getting quite eventful.

She did figure out Samuel's trp before it sprang, flying home to her corporeal form. Though her memories of home betrayed that location, and D3d LyT3 had set off nearly an hour before. Lights blurred by in a hypnotic display, lining the tunnels with long, florescent trails of illumination. With each accelerating dash, the space between him and the surface world grew smaller. The manhole cover to the lands above burst open and he crashed back down unto the snow laden asphalt, exploding into a flurry of snowflakes towards his target. With each step, a small circle of snow cleared under heel, launching him through the air before the next lungeing stride. He felt her presence again as she slung back to her body, but by that time he already lay below that very windowsill. He stood next to her as she sprang to life, unbeknownst of the spectral presence. Remaining in silence and she went about the room. The dress was indeed becoming of her. She fastened a necklace around her nape, striking D3d LyT3's curiosity. His fingers traced down the side of her neck, gliding over her shoulder as she made her last adjustments. She never would feel a thing, all information of D3d LyT3's presence blanked out of her consciousness. He brought his hand away as she began to move on. "Hmmm... Nothing."

He walked just behind her, grinning a vile smile that could be only felt rather than seen. He watched as the young one, named Alanawent on about memories she had stolen, which then D3d LyT3 had stolen. He watched as Ms. Wolfe gathered her little protectors around her, and then sent them on their way. It was when she had donned her complement of hidden weapons that she felt the safest, which he so wanted to shatter. But no. He would watch, and he would wait. Her thoughts, her motives, were in a flux. No way to tell how things could proceed, though one could always hope.

Watch, and wait....

Watch, and wait....

Watch, and wait....

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Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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Jonathan flinched back and slightly lifted his hands when the man moved, then mentally slapped himself for being such a coward. He stood at attention giving one of those almost carefree smiles yet again. Then, with only a quick clap for warning, he turned from the teen and began their journey for what Jonathan could only hope was the Priory headquarters. Jonathan closed his eyes, took a deep breath to try and extinguish the panic burning inside of him, and lowered his hands before following the English voice.

"Right-o. Follow me then. I promise I'll be quick. Whats your name by the way? You can have mine. I'm Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn, you may have seen it about."

His step faltered at the name and a pained grimace spread on his face.
"J-Jonathan. Jonathan Moore." Shaking his head, he continued after the stranger, all the while thinking on that name. Samuel. It had been a long time since he had heard it. The Dawning hit when he was three years old. Because of this, he had very few memories of his brothers, but the ones he did have where something that he had already fought one telepath to keep. They were one of the few things in his life he held close to him. Chris had been a college student, and he traveled to Europe to pursue his dream. To England in fact, the exact same place this man seemed to come from. He had become a Fallen Star - the name given to those whose power was too strong to contain within their own boy during the Dawning, but his older brother Samuel had stayed with the family, looking after them. When the Dawning hit, in the confusion and destruction, they lost him. To this day, he still had little idea where his brother was.

Lost in thought, Jonathan nearly walked straight into his guide who had stopped mid step. With confusion, he watched the man. He remained unflinching, unconcerned almost with the dangers the tunnels could hold. His face however revealed a lot more. His expression shifted while his eyes viewed the empty space ahead in the shadows. Jonathan had seen it before with telepaths. Filing this little bit of information away in his mind, the teen hesitantly lifted his hand after a moment to tap Samuel's shoulder.
"Uh..." he started as his fingers got closer. But before they they reach him, a grin spread in the blonde's face and he continued forwards as if nothing had happened. Jonathan lifted his eyebrows questioningly, then shook his head, dismissing the curiosity.

The two men took a winding path through the Bones, occasionally stopping and then starting again when Samuel had observed a walkway or an area of a room, as if searching for something. 'Way markers, maybe?' Jonathan asked himself. He attempted to look also subtly but nothing seemed to stand out. Giving up, he followed his guide. He jumped as a gunshot rang through the tunnels, a scream following before dying away, like the sound of an animal becoming prey deep within the Bones of the old city. Memories of the man had attacked clawed their way from the dark corner he had shoved them in, but they disappeared whenever he tried to focus on them. They were taunting him, mocking him. In a vain attempt to ignore them, Jonathan began to recite the sequence of pi that he had remembered, a habit of his whenever he didn't want to focus on anything that would bring him pain.
'3.14159265358979323846264338...'

The questions of the guide, Samuel, pulled him from his reciting. Deciding it was better to humor him with answers, Jonathan told the truth as far as he was willing for each question. 19 years old. Born in Texas. Unchipped. Along with many more as they continued their idle chat down the seemingly endless tunnels in the Bones. It was in the middle of answering one of these questions that the sound of pouring water, a somewhat uncommon sound, reached them. With a grin, Samuel jumped onto the makeshift bridge of pipes across the water beneath. Reluctantly, Jonathan followed him across. Halfway across, his blood ran cold as the sound of voices drifted into the space and the light of torches shone onto the walls of the tunnel ahead. Samuel jogged further ahead, leaving Jonathan behind as the voices and light drew closer still. Finally off the bridge, he stood before the tunnel of light where Samuel now stood waiting on him, a group waiting behind him. Jonathan swallowed away his nerves, a hesitation in his next step, then straightened his back to feign more confidence than he was feeling and stopped jyst hort of them.

"Welcome to the door to of the Priory, friend."

Jonathan nodded slightly, his breathing a little rushed and shaky. He had been right all along. After all this time he had finally found the people he had been searching for all this time, for so long. Days. Weeks. Months.

"So... what happens now?"

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore Character Portrait: Kayla Mackenzie
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"Hey, boss. I'm home and have a guest... Maybe two..."

Xiaoyan heard it. As soon as Samuel brought up her face in his mind, there was a tickling in her own. Like a sneeze that couldnt get out. Setting her paper down, she listened to the sensation, and Samuel's chuckleing amusement bubbled through.

She reached out, and saw them. Two on the fringes of their home. There was a whisp of leftover -something- around them, but it was long gone cold. Xiaoyan frowned and tapped Samuel.

'You know better than to bring projectors this far down.'

The proximity to the Dead Zone and its energy fluctuations kept Psi-CON's many attempts to follow Priory agents mentally with their own projecting Psi, but that made them no less paranoid. Xiaoyan often said the biggest threat to the security of the cell was the laziness that had infected it before she'd arrived and taken the helm.

Done chiding her agent, she turns her attention to Jonathan, watching over his shoulder gently.

Smiling slyly, Jonathan would be aware of a brief impression of something small and bright fluttering passed him, disappearing as soon as his eyes tried to focus on the movement, but he could swear there'd been a bird down here.

'3279'.

The next sequence of numbers to his mental recitation pops up, unbidden.

Xiaoyan returns to Samuel,

'He's hungry and cold and scared. Get him some food and show him around. I might pop up.' She chuckles with the mental impression of a completely innocent smile.

Half of the Priory knew someone with a bird projection was in charge, but most never knew Xiaoyan as more than a mild telepath that wandered around the Priory grounds in her worn jeans and sweaters. She preffered it that way; it gave her a clearer picture of what went on in her home, and it made meeting new people a clever little game for her; one Samuel knew she was very fond of playing.


----
Kayla
----

A Kinetic, a Displacer, and a Seer walk into a bar....

Sounds like the start to a bad joke, and the night was seeming like one to them. They were running for their lives, one of them already so exhausted from using his limited powers that he stumbled on the loose gravel, and a Psi-CON security unit was eager for their blood.

When the shots fire, they fling themselves to the ground, certain that they'd made it as far as the universe would let them. But none of them are hit, and the sounds of chaos behind them reigns. They turn, and sit on their asses in cold alley muck, watching as the scene unfolds with mouths agape.

One of them finally reaches out to slap the shoulder of his compatriot, jolting them out of their daze and getting them moving again as they scramble to their feet and put distance between the fight and themselves.

At the sound of persuing footsteps, they turn, but find their rescuer, and continue a weary jogging slog into the factory district.

"Saints alive, where did you even come from?!" The displacer asks

"Hell itself could've spat her out for all I care. Thanks for that intercept or we'd be paste." Replies the big kinetic, still red in the face from fatigue and being supported on the shoulder of the third, who shoots her a long, calculating look.

"Yeah. Pretty freaking convenient you just -happen- onto a psi-CON ambush..." Trust the Seer to be the paranoid one.

The displacer argues back, and the kinetic drops in his two cents, which the seer shoots down with cold logic. The gist of it - despite innoculous phrases and 'inside info' looks - seems to be that they're debating wether SHE is a Psi-CON agent, and wether or not they should even be letting her follow them.

Finally, as they reach a particularly nondescript drainage ditch in a particularly nondescript construction yard, they stop in the entrance and turn to her.

"Fine. You can come along, but you do what we say. No questions, no 'why this way' or 'where are we now's. And if you're a CON snitch... well.."

"She'll know. And she'll kill you." the seer's grin is a nasty one, as if he's seen the results personally.

Without further invite, they help the Kinetic into the black mouth of the drain, and down into the Bones they go. She'd need to hurry if she wanted to keep sight of them in that horrible maze. From that heated discussion and the deadly threat left hanging over her head, Kayla may have stumbled onto more than just three unchipped Psi trying to make their way in the world...

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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'You know better than to bring projectors this far down.'


Those were the first words he heard in his mind, he paused right about as he was going to speak Jonathan. He'd turn from the male again and send a message back, communicating with Xiaoyan. To him it would feel like minutes bu it the waking world it was less than a few seconds.

Aye. I know Boss whatever it was set upon me in the tunnels and I had no defense but to return and I didn't want to endanger the boy with me. Regardless... I think it left before it got far enough to know our location exactly. It was curious though felt like something whispered to me. I may take D3d Ly3T and investigat- I take that back its likely best to go on my own."

With that his summary ended and he soon got his next set of orders before snapping back to reality. He'd once again twist and look at Jonathan with that nearly careless smile that set well upon his face.

"So... what happens now?"

"Now? We get you some real food and water and then I show you 'bouts while I send out a couple lads to find you a place to sleep for the night."

Samuel would then turn about again. He'd wave over his shoulder for Jonathan to follow as they passed through three people. They'd go down a torch lit tunnel and at the end would be a large atrium. The home of the Priory. They were on the second floor of the area. In front of them was a catwalk which linked to others and wooden platforms that held up small makeshift huts and buildings. Samuel took none of those however, instead he'd drop down a ladder that led to a concrete platform. It was another maze like the Bones except this was much less long, far more warm, and far better lit. Along the way Samuel would point out key structures. At the end of this maze was a large shack with several mismatched tables.

"This is the Mess Hall of sorts... Stay right here, I'll be back Jonathan."

After such Samuel vanished into a flap at the end of the small building. There were one or two people eating or drinking at the tables but most in the complex seemed to be at work with various tasks and jobs. There were voices here and there and a laugh once or twice. In a couple minutes Samuel would wander back out this time bearing food. It was a hearty stew in a wooden bowl with water in a metal can. He'd set them down in front of Jonathan with a soft clink on the wooden table.

"Eat up and then I'll take you to your quarters when you're ready."

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A strange sensation came over Jonathan as the words left his mouth. It was as if he would hear something behind him, but couldn't, but could also feel it. Like his mind was connected with it in some way. He resisted the urge at first to turn and find what was causing the sensation. But, after a couple of seconds, his curiosity got the better of him. As subtly as he could manage give the fact that a group of vigilant men watched him he peered over his shoulder. There was nothing. The sudden feeling, like a fluttering around him, caught him to the side, and he shifted his eyes in that direction. Despite feeling it, he again found nothing. Jonathan closed his eyes and turned to Samuel to just catch the end of his sentence.

"...while I send out a couple lads to find you a place to sleep for the night."

Jonathan gave a quick nod in thanks to the group in general, then addressed Samuel personally.
"Thank you..." Jonathan faltered ever so slightly on the name, but tried again to cover up his failed attempt. "...Samuel. That's very kind." Jonathan had been told before his unneeded manners would end up getting him hurt by his mother, but it was one thing he couldn't give up no matter how hard she tried to break him.

Jonathan began to follow as Samuel started into the illuminated tunnel. The smell of the damp tunnels began to fade slightly as he began closer towards the men. All of a sudden, the fluttering soared past his eyes again. Deciding not to pass it off as nothing, as he knew there was something messing with him, he turned quickly, his entire body, and stared into the dark abyss. And he was surprised with what he saw. The teen's eyes widened in disbelief.
'Is that a... a bird?! In the Bones?' Jonathan pulled his eyes and thoughts away from it with a quick raise of his eyebrows and followed beyond the men, giving polite nods to each as he passed them.

The pathway led to a large atrium, at which point Jonathan stopped. This was the Priory. This was everything he had been searching for all these months. He could finally try and help people like he wanted to do. Psi, and humans too if he could. He had been at the end of prejudice towards his kind before, but he still didn't believe that every human being was entirely against them. Regardless, it didn't matter what he wanted to do at in the future. He had found what he had been looking for, and he was content with that for now.

Their journey went down a ladder, through some well looked after tunnels, past key structures (which Sam was kind enough to explain about each time they passed) which ended in a shack, big enough for a good few people. Tables were lined up in order in as best condition as they could find them.

"This is the Mess Hall of sorts... Stay right here, I'll be back Jonathan."

Unsure for a moment, Jonathan finally sat down on the uncomfortable seat after Sam left. A minute of relative silence, only broken by the hushed whispers of the few people who kept looking over at him. They were in no way mean in their observations, merely curious. Most didn't pay him any attention, from what he saw, but there had been a few on the way too who had. His mind began to become focused with his worrying and panicking. He tried to resist, but soon found himself reaching for his bag. Pulling out a hand sized metronome, he placed it on the table and started it up. The movements and his muttered counting soothed his raging sea of worry. By the time Samuel arrived with his food, Jonathan had started showing signs of impatience rather than panic.

"Eat up and then I'll take you to your quarters when you're ready."

"Thank you, Sam," he said with a small smile, his southern accent starting to come through stronger again. He tried to avoid using his real accent and names when making transactions. Pack Rat, from New York before the Dawning, was a lot safer than Jonathan Moore of Seven Oaks, Texas. Unless, of course, he was up against a telepath. He had little ability to prevent them getting information like that. Thankfully, he was too low a threat to even be noticed in the city of New Boston. Tapping the metronome again to keep it going strong, Jonathan pulled the wooden bowl closer and began to eat slowly.

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Thomas Kenny Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore Character Portrait: Kayla Mackenzie
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"This is your stray, Sam?"

A light voice announces the arrival of a tiny asian woman with long black hair and a soft, bright smile. Old jeans and a worn sweater two sizes too big made her seem like a child wandering in a grown-up's world. She had dainty fingers wrapped around her own bowl, cradling the warmth out of the soup that steamed within.

"Do you mind if I join you? The fire always reaches these tables best."

She would wait quite politely for Jonathan to mumble or nod an assent before taking a place across from him, as if he were master of the house and not merely a new guest fighting back the panic of the uncertain. Speaking of, rythmic counting and metronome asside, everything about the woman encouraged a sort of calm to descend around her. Like they were chatting at a cafe in the sun before the Dawning; warm, friendly, safe, and - dare I say it - like home.

"Sam, are you aware you smell like a sewer? Again?" She says with an amusing expression that required her to scrunch her upturned nose and turn sideways to the taller Brit, before looking at Jonathan as if for help, "Please tell me he didnt bring you through the cistern? He'll roll around in that sludge every chance he gets, I swear it's like a puppy in a trash can!"

Wether it was true or not didnt matter; the good humor was infectious. There were no questions. No interrogation or threats. The woman just stuck her tongue out at Sam and lifted the bowl with enough manners that you'd think it was fine china to sip at the stuff within.

'D3d Lyt3 still hasnt come back yet, but his boy is here.'

Xiaoyan didnt open her eyes or betray any other hint that she had just reached out lightly to Sam to communicate in silence.

'We can expect another, too. One of the teams got into some trouble, they're bringing the one who helped them. You're a better judge of fighters, could you intercept her? I'll stay with these two until you return.'

She sets the bowl down with a satisfied sigh and a smile, "It's not exactly haute cuisine, but at least it's filling, yes? I imagine you have questions, though. Ah! There you are!"

She looks up, seeing Thomas backing out silently from the flap that almost rattled with the snores of a very large man. Lifting a pale hand, she beckons him in a friendly manner.

"Thomas, Jonathan. Jonathan, Thomas." The woman hadnt asked their names, and yet there was the introduction. "Come, sit. I'm here to help with all of the confusion you're probably dealing with right now." She laughs sympathetically, "It isnt every day you find a place like this and get invited in for soup. My name is Xiaoyan. I'm Psi, and so are you. That's why you're here."

She continues the soft smile, hands folded neatly around the bowl, "Welcome to the Priory of the Free Mind."

----
Kayla
----

They move at an easier pace once they're underground. Through abandoned pipes to abandoned buildings and down abandoned stairs they descend deeper and deeper into the Bones. Occasionally, they stop and listen; waiting until the coast is clear of Reapers and the occasional scavenger.

They speak very little to her, except for the off 'Watch your step' or 'Here, use this cable'. It's all very clandestine and hush-hush. But eventually, after it seems like even THEY might be lost in the maze of the old city, they stop.

It's an old school courtyard. Bent and rusted playground equipment provides an exceptionally eerie backdrop to the faint light filtering in from random sources in the levels above. Trash and a good foot of dirt choke out any attempt at growing vegitation where children once screamed and laughed. A cold, dead reminder of the way the world had once been as 3 grown men shiver in the shadows of broken bleachers.

"He aughta be here.." Grumbles the Kinetic.

"He is." Says the Seer after grimacing and closing his eyes.

Turning and pointing across the courtyard, a dim flashlight flicks on and a shadowy figure beckons them all across the street and into a leaning apartment building.

"You guys are late." This strange new gatekeeper says; a tall man in a black coat that was full of dust. He looks at her with the same cautious mistrust before the Displacer just waves him off and helps him move a book case away from yet ANOTHER hidden tunnel.

"You're going down two levels and into the old Blue Line subway." He tells them, clearly guiding them along a safe and ever-changing path to get wherever they were going. This was a terrible lot of trouble to hide their destination. "Someone's gonna meet you there about her." Here he kicks his chin in Kayla's direction.

The Displacer pauses in the opening and looks over his shoulder at Kayla with a shrug,

"Last chance to back out, chick."

But I imagine that Kayla is no coward. All of this secrecy smacks of adventure. Down here in the Bones, shuttled amongst these secret byways and suspicious characters, one could imagine that even Psi-CON's gaze couldnt find them. She may begin to feel more free now than she ever did huddling in the shadows of the street; playing hookie from the Law itself.

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Thomas Kenny Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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While he ate his meal slowly, the teen tried his best to clear his mind. For a while now he had been trying to improve his abilities, and find new ways to use them. Recently, he had started to make some progress, which was the reason he carried around the metronome. Slightly hunched over the table Jonathan had his hands round the bowl set on top of the table, absorbing all the heat he could from it, while he stared at the pendulum swing left then right, left to right, left and right, his focus entirely on the motion and ticking. For a moment, he let the world fade away from him. He left all distractions behind, including Sam. All that mattered was the metronome. His gaze intensified as he attempted to use his abilities. Nothing happened. He tried again, putting everything into it. His gaze, now more of a glare, was fixed on the swinging. His breathing was becoming heavier as he attempted once again to use his abilities. A throbbing began in his head from the effort. It seemed as if it wasn't working at first, but Jonathan soon noticed that the swing was slower. Triumph washed through him. A grin spread on his face, his concentration broke and the metronome returned to its initial speed. Jonathan sighed and gave the device another tap to keep it going before continuing with his meal.

"This is your stray, Sam?"

Jonathan jumped slightly and looked up to the voice. A small Asian woman, around a foot or more smaller than him he would guess, stood before him holding her own bowl. She had long black hair, perfect skin and one of the warmest and most inviting smiles Jonathan had seen in a long time. He looked straight up, unable to pull away from her dark eyes that just seemed to draw him in, and couldn't help but smile back slightly.

"Do you mind if I join you? The fire always reaches these tables best."

Jonathan shrugged and reluctantly pulled his hand away from the heat to gesture to one of the seats.
"By all means. I am your guest after all." Jonathan viewed the woman with uncertainty at first, but there was something inside, deep within, that encouraged him to trust her, to feel safe in this place. His instincts told him to run, as they always did, but everything just seemed so calm and peaceful. How could he run from it? It would have almost felt like home, if Jonathan had ever known what a home truly was. Due to his powers and mother, he had never stayed anywhere long enough for it to feel like home. He had a few questions that were playing in his mind, but before he could even open his mouth, the new woman - who must have been at least mid to late twenties or early thirties - she spoke to his guide into the Priory.

"Sam, are you aware you smell like a sewer? Again?" She crunched her nose playfully and turned to regard Sam, before returning her bewitching eyes to Jonathan. "Please tell me he didn't bring you through the cistern? He'll roll around in that sludge every chance he gets, I swear it's like a puppy in a trash can!" Before he could stop himself, Jonathan joined in on the humor and chuckled quietly. She merely stuck her tongue out at her friend and drank from the bowl. Jonathan stopped eating his own to watch as she lifted it with grace and elegance, as if this were a pre-dawning fancy dinner and it was fine china.

He looked down at his own bowl and sighed quietly. Having to spend every day eating when he could, often on the go, without any need for manners of any sort, he hadn't had much practice stopping himself from looking a little like a slob when he ate. But, he kept it clean and didn't do anything overly strange when he ate, so the few people he had eaten a meal with hadn't had any reason to complain. His eyes caught the movement of the metronome and his eyes widened slightly. He stopped it with his hand before returning it to the fading heat of the now practically empty bowl.

She placed the bowl down and sighed, which urged Jonathan on to finish his soup and place his down also.
"It's not exactly haute cuisine, but at least it's filling, yes? I imagine you have questions, though. Ah! There you are!" His mind had begun to go through the different ways he could have improved the meal - cooking was one of the few skills his mother had taught him, which she had learned from her own mother and with experience - when a man around his age was beckoned over.

"Thomas, Jonathan. Jonathan, Thomas." Despite the calming aura she was giving off, Jonathan's body stiffened and a vague panic went down his spine with a chill. The fact that she knew their names gave one unappealing suggestion. Jonathan viewed her with a new light now, but still felt the pull of her powers. She was a telepath. Since he was very young, he had always had a slight distrust towards telepaths. His powers were only able to affect the physical world, he had no control of the mind. And, therefore, no defenses against intrusion. The idea of someone looking about his head, scagging the information they could, like he scavenged the items within the Bones was disconcerting at best. He nodded to this new man, Thomas, politely.

"Come, sit. I'm here to help with all of the confusion you're probably dealing with right now. It isn't every day you find a place like this and get invited in for soup. My name is Xiaoyan. I'm Psi, and so are you. That's why you're here. Welcome to the Priory of the Free Mind."

Even as she chirped on, and the happier side of him remained, a slight distrust lingered. Jonathan brought his eyes back to the woman and focused directly at her. He didn't have a clue if this would actually work or not, but he was going to try. Concentrating, he tried to direct a thought within his mind at her.
"Stay out of my head." It wasn't a threat, but nor was it a joke. It wasn't aggressive, but nor was it playful. She seemed like a nice enough person that he was managing to get along with better than most, but he didn't like having people in his head. He was protective of his thoughts and memories, guarded to a fault.

Despite this message, Jonathan had questions that he wanted answered and this seemed one of the chances he would get. "When I met," he hesitated again at the name, old memories of his missing brother resurfacing, "Samuel in the tunnels, he said that he had been monitoring my whereabouts. That he wanted the reason for my particular routes. If you don't mind my asking, how long exactly have you been tracking me?"

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Thomas Kenny Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore Character Portrait: Kayla Mackenzie
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"Thank you, Sam,"


Samuel gave a nod at that and waved his hand politely as the boy ate. It was a simple and non-verbal way of saying your welcome or its nothing. However, Sam himself was busy eating and looking about the area. That is until he saw the metronome. His own eyes narrowed on it in focus as he noted Jonathan trying to. Eyes slowly tracked the metal bar swing back in forth on its gentle arc, his sense of sound consumed by the tick-tock-tick-tock. Then the note-keeping device suddenly slowed as if it were jammed. His gaze once again feel on Jonathan. That was interesting. However before he could express in thought in word all that hit him was a voice from behind.

"This is your stray, Sam?"


"Jaysus!" It was almost a yelp, and the Brit jumped as well. He had been so focused that Xiaoyan had managed to sneak up on him and he didn't even sense her presence. "Don't go scaring a bloke like that! Bloody hell man!" While he spoke his hands were busying themselves readjusting his suit to save whatever was left of his dignity for the moment while mumbling something about not getting any soup on himself.

"Do you mind if I join you? The fire always reaches these tables best."


'D3d Lyt3 still hasnt come back yet, but his boy is here. We can expect another, too. One of the teams got into some trouble, they're bringing the one who helped them. You're a better judge of fighters, could you intercept her? I'll stay with these two until you return.'


Those were the last words Samuel heard before plunging himself into another mental conversation. It was interesting. The man couldn't actively interact with both "worlds" when he spoke telepathically. He could hear both at the same, he could sense both, even feel. Something made him have to have to concentrate while he spoke though and during those times everything else cut out and he'd stay in place like some kind of signal receiver with clouded eyes.

"I can check it out briefly, I have my own business to go abouts today. By the way, another food shipment should be showing up in the tunnels a bit north of our location. Send a couple to go out and retrieve it, would you?

After that he stood and dusted himself off before looking between the two. He had his orders, his own agenda, and his stomach was now full so it seemed the perfect time to get a move-on. "I have a few errands to run abouts," he always added an unneeded 's' to about, "Xiaoyan don't terrorize the boy." He'd grin and actually give her a friendly pat on the shoulder before twisting on his heels and taking leave.

Right as he exited he nearly ran head first into Thomas. "Sorry." He'd mutter simply and carry on. He'd never seen the boy before and he concluded that it was the straggler that D3d Ly3t had dropped off. It was none-the-matter, Samuel would introduce himself another time.

Samuel was rather fast when he wanted to be. He hastily followed the blue telepathic line in his head that Xiaoyan was leading him to the new girl's location with. Upon arrival he paused and took a deep breathe, composing himself from his jog through the tunnels before peeking out at Kayla and the three men. He stepped out from the shadows with a grunt. All of the men turned to him defensively but they'd soon turn into faces of recognition and even a small amount of confidence. Samuel was indeed well know among his fellow rebels. He was nearly the Priory's public outreach face...

"Top of the Day, gents! And lady." He nearly bowed but more so inclined his head politely. He then feel silent, just standing there as he had a mental conversation with one of the Priory boys. Attaining all the information he could before turning and gazing at the female. He placed a hand on his chin in thought as his eyes squinted. She obviously had some kind of martial skill to get down here and cunning too. Her stature and just everything about her was deceptive of those facts too. It hit him though, if she were Psi-CON though she'd know who he was. But he had a nagging feeling that was far from the truth. In the end he waved her along, speaking to the three she was. "Take her back to the base with you. Follow the lower tunnels and avoid the Styx. I saw quite a bit of Reaver activity on my own way though."

He'd then relay back to Xiaoyan.

"She's most certainly a fighter and I doubt she's a Con-man. I'd have D3d Ly3t take her out on a trial run. Make sure he goes easy on her. For now I'm waving her through with your goons. If this comes back to bite us in the ass, I'll deal with it."

It was a risk every time they let someone new into the Priory.

The three men would all make various signatures of acknowledgement before waving at Kayla to follow them back to the head quarters. Samuel would say one thing to the female before she took off though. It was a low and underlined threat for security purposes. "We're your friends and you'd better return the favor."

"Right-o! Its done Xiaoyan. Now while I'm out I'm going to investigate something... I'll be back by supper hopefully!"

Samuel hoped that Xiaoyan had set this meeting place close enough to the base that she could pick him out. He was about ro span a good distance. Nothing like her however, not even close. He'd stand and watch as the four dwindled into shadows in a nearby tunnel before leaving once more.

It was a couple hours hike to the surface entrance that set him near to the image that was beamed into his head only hours before. Or at least he thought it was nearby. Samuel had to be careful on the surface even as an unchipped Psi. There were other ways to track a criminal with a half a million dollar bounty on your head and he know. Its why he kept his head down and remained as inconspicuous on the surface as humanly possible. The supper thing was completely false. On the surface it was already night again. The cities' massive skyline danced like the aurora on the horizon and the stead hum of vehicles was in the air. The air was worse than down in the Bones. It reeked of carbon pollution and even human suffering. He wasn't in the best part of town either. He noted something as he went down the rode the image he drew into his mind got clearer and clearer as if it were a puzzle- then it struck him. He knew exactly where he was going. He had never been there himself but he'd heard of it. It was a brothel. There had been whispers among the underground market of the place. In fact one of Samuel's clients frequented the place. Sam himself tended to avoid brothels. He'd only stepped foot in one once. That ended in a shoot-out the local law enforcement that he barely escaped from. Either way his pace quickened.

It wasn't long before he managed to sniff his way through the backstreets of the district to the brothel in question. Give or take another hour or two. Something about the hotel unnerved him and he made sure that both his knife and old M1911 where in the suit pockets under the blazer. The gun was a relic but it was a damn good piece of equipment and was damn reliable. Sure everything was in order he stepped around the building and then into its front doors. Closing them as silently as possible before trying to sneak up the stairs, checking around until somebody popped up. He was here for the meeting he didn't even have knowledge about.

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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Cecilia sat in the office, she was as prepared as she could be, so at this moment she was simply sitting in her office seat, working on some papers that needed sorted and filed away, a few secrets that need locked up. She couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched, however, her head was still buzzing but that was from the Salesman detecting her, but she could feel something standing over her, watching her every move. Maybe she was just nervous about what was about to go down, causing her to be a bit jumpy.

The two guards watched as the man tried to sneak in, they stopped him and went to ask his name but had a feeling that from the way he was trying to sneak in that he was Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn. "Mr Hawethorn, I take it." One of them stated, not asking but understandable if Samuel thought it was a question. {b]Come with us.[/b] They ordered, before making their way to the office.

Three of the girls then ran up to Samuel and started flirting with him, distracting him whilst one of the girls ran off to warn Cecilia. The girls got as close as they could to Samuel, touching his chest and arms, complementing his body and facial features. One of the girls started to dance for him, pressing her breast together to make them perkier. They giggled and teased, biting their lips and blowing kisses.

Cecilia jumped as the door opened, He's here, Cecilia. Cecilia regained her posture and nodded.
"Show him in." She told the girl, who closed the door and skipped back to Samuel.
Cecilia stood from her chair and went to the back of her office and lifted the painting down of the wall, revealing a safe. For her, this safe was were she kept her poisons, not because they were precious to her but because the safe was faulty and opened if you just pulled the handle. She took out a sedative poison, it wouldn't kill him, just render him a tiny bit sleepy. Instead of putting it onto her nails, she put it on the blade of her dagger, her plan C, if he didn't listen or back down.
Plan A, talk to him, persuade him.
Plan B, claw him until he backs down.
Plan C, knock him out and give him to Alana to wipe his mind of every secret, every deal and every client he ever had.
Plan D, kill him.

Cecilia heard the giggling of the girls and knew he was at the door, the door clicked and the giggling was louder as the door opened but then she heard a stumbling as the girls pushed Samuel into the room and the slamming of the door, Cecilia still had her back to the door, she let out a breath as she looked over her shoulder to look at the man who had just been thrown into an unexpected meeting, with his rival information broker.

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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#, as written by Raidose
(Collab with Shadow)




Watching and waiting, ever still, ever always. He watched and he waited till the seams of his mentality strained against the burgeoning pressure of his own manic side. To wait and to watch till finally he could wait and watch no longer. The screams and cries of so many voices urged him on, and he was not entirely rejecting. To let slip the blade, to plunge the knife deep down into bone and know the joys of life and loss. Oh no, that would be too sudden, too quick. First a game, a test of will and mind, then trap her in her own little box of a world and shake it till she shatters. Not just her, but the others, too! Oh what a lovely game it could be! The more the merrier, even if the only one reveling in the merriment was D3d LyT3 and his voices three. Such wonderful images he could craft, twisting all of their thoughts and forcing each others fears onto the next. All the loveliest ingredients were here. The strongest guard held deep-seeded night terrors of Ophidiophobia, with two other girls sharing the same fears of Suri and Arachnophobic natures. Rats and Spiders and Snakes, Oh My! And just when it had all come to a boil, D3d LyT3 felt the tapping of a presence that made him groan in annoyance. Samuel the ever-well timed had finally arrived. It only took him a whole two hours.

A writhing smirk cracked across his aged lips, hidden behind his mask as Cecilia laced her blade with the vial's contents. An image of slightly sensual conversation and conniving bribery, of razor-like claws gliding over tender skin, of sedation, ropes, chairs, and that young telepath he'd met earlier, and of course, a subtle, silent knife against Samuel's throat. Her cards were laid out on the table, and now D3d LyT3 eagerly played the bated audience to this little show. She had her back to the door when Sam was "escorted" in, her face only three inches from D3d LyT3's. He watched her eyes twitch and squirm ever so slightly as each new thought was formed, before he peered at the final product in her mind. Other beings fascinated him, even to this day. Though he could grow bored fast, he still loved to watch, to see them act as they did in their own little way. To compare one to the other, and then maybe even to himself. To see what, if anything, in him was human of mind and nature. He did not reveal himself to Samuel initially. D3d LyT3 wanted to see his reaction at it's fullest, and of course to witness the friction it would cause.

And when Cecillia finally turned to greet her guest, Sam played witness to her very own shadow standing on it's own just behind her. No sound nor presence emanated from it, as though his mind knew it not to be real, or rather, was allowed to know such. The shade's silhouette twisted in on itself till it stood well taller than her. It's stance was distinctly masculine and threatening, with it's newly formed eyes betraying it's identity. Samuel was now having a bit of trouble paying attention to both, and much to D3d LyT3's delight as he simply placed a solitary finger to his mouth.

'Shhhhhh.....'




Samuel had shown expert self-control on ignoring the females as they escorted him to the room. But now he was faced with this, the every malevolent image of D3d Ly3t behind a female who'd he'd been brought too. There was anxiety in his eyes for a brief moment before they snapped like marbles back toward Cecilla. Questions now flew through his mind like a freezing river. Why was he brought her? Who was this woman? Why did she give him the image of this place? And why the hell was D3d ly3t stalking her and now telling Samuel to keep the maniacs presence hidden? It at least seemed that way.

It didn't take him long to recompose though, in fact it would have been less than a brief second before his face curled in a cocky, careless grin at both figures really. His arms crossing in front of him in a relaxed and rather non-threatened as well as non-threatening posture. At the same time he silently raised a telekinetic barrier beside him and around his flanks. It would be hidden by his body and hard to notice even by someone behind him. His piercing, almost ice blue eyes darting through the room to take in every detail it held with a quick once-over. One of his fingers instinctively tapping his antique wristwatch with a clip-clip-clip-clip noise as the metal band rattled softly. The first thing that came from his mouth wasn't exactly diplomatic but it wasn't aggressive, rude, or hateful just merely cocky and questioning. His accent now up close most certainly Manchester English.

"Mind explaining why I'm here madam? I hope you aren't trying to set me up as a new client. I don't take to bordellos. Personally more of a Speakeasy fan."



How dull. Pleasantries? Such things could wait. An advantage of being an imminent precog, seeing the four minutes of time he'd be missing in his absence. Though one thing did tick in his mind. The thought that she could pay Sam off or simply erase him.... It was in it's own little way a delightful arrogance, the kind which D3d LyT3 overjoyed in mangling like a kitten with a ball of yarn. It was just a simple thought, but it was one she felt was without consequence. How one motive can speak so much, to say that she did not fear or respect the Priory.... Oh bother. The Priory. Xiao would be ever so cross with him if he performed anything.... unnecessary. Death threats would not be authorized here, sadly. Oh, but there had to be something! He had to rend her safety bubble somehow....

Now there's an idea....

Turn the best tool of a survivor against itself.

Caution into Paranoia....

Greatest asset into greatest weakness!

Psychological warfare.

A harmless prank, you might say.

And Xiaoyan can't get mad at us!

But the message will be oh so very clear....


It has been said that D3d LyT3's smile could peel paint from walls and turn sinners to prayer, that it was a rare thing never seen but always felt. A sudden cold air, the raising of your cackles, an out of place silence. This was no different. No one was the wiser as he slithered out of the room, unlocking the door from the other side through telekinesis. To everyone else, the door had never moved an inch. No sights to be seen, sounds to be heard, or sensations to be felt. This is what made D3d LyT3 a true nightmare, that he could go about unhindered and unfelt nearly anywhere guarded by no more than the waking mind of blanks and Psi alike. He could simply walk right into her personal quarters as if he owned every right in the world. Predictably anyone in the business of appearance would be in possession of a vanity mirror, and as seen in her memories she was no different. D3d LyT3 liked mirrors. he liked them very much. Eyes, it is said, are the mirrors to one's soul, then so too must the humble mirror show the truth. Or perhaps it served only as a tool of hubris. Either way, he still liked this mirror as much as any other, sitting down in front of it. It was strange, to feel one's own being peering back at him, to feel the Dead Lights casting upon his own face and features, to watch them watching him watching back.... It felt like he was teasing them. He let his finger trace out his own eyes on the mirror's surface playfully.

"I~ See~ You~....."

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Character Portrait: Xiaoyan Jin Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: Thomas Kenny Character Portrait: Jonathan Moore
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Thomas, after what wasn't even an hour, jumped to his feet from what he could only imagine to have been a loud roar from the next room. Of course, it was Laurence. Thomas was still very much on edge, and the cool draft that made its way into the shack only heightened the chilly feeling. Perpetuating through his mind was the nightmare he had experienced earlier. The feeling of dread was not one easily shrugged off, and its effects permeated deep into the mind. The scariest part of his reflections wasn't the telepathically induced fright fest, it was his encounter with the one reaver. Particularly, it was the conclusion of the encounter. It was murder, that's what it was, and it was not something Thomas could become accustomed to. With a shiver of fear, or maybe just cold, Thomas backed out of the shack. Before he had even cleared the sheet that covered the doorway he was being beckoned by Xia. With her was two others, one more middle-aged man and the other a kid about the same age as Thomas. He didn't bother to take the stairs, and instead just dropped down onto the rickety wooden platform, surprisingly not making a sound. Thomas then walked over, his obviously guarded posture relaxing as he came into Xia's presence.

"Thomas, Jonathan. Jonathan, Thomas."


Jonathan nodded to Thomas, to which Thomas responded with silence. He had not been around people for quite a long time, and the current circumstance didn't give him any more desire to interact with them. Xia gave a warm introduction to the Priory once more. The other man, Samuel, walked right into poor Thomas. Well, really, Samuel walked towards Thomas, and then Thomas seemingly teleported a few feet to the side. Thomas faded back into what dark he could find, staying still close to the conversation at hand, but not taking any attempt to participate in it. For a little he would stay and listen, but should nothing hold his interest or nobody address his directly, he would find a nice shack rooftop to spend the rest of the night and catch up on some well needed sleep.

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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"Mind explaining why I'm here madam? I hope you aren't trying to set me up as a new client. I don't take to bordellos. Personally more of a Speakeasy fan."

Cecilia noticed the snap of Samuel’s eyes and she did a small check over her shoulders, she wasn’t the only person feeling the presence. Cecilia kept her gaze on the man before her. However, he seemed unfazed by the presence and kept a rather composed and cocky grin plastered on his face. Cecilia listened to him clip his watch patiently waiting for him to ask the questions that must be flowing through his head.

"Mind explaining why I'm here madam? I hope you aren't trying to set me up as a new client. I don't take to bordellos. Personally more of a Speakeasy fan." Samuel asked, his accent tugging at her emotions, making her think of her life before the Dawning.

“No, Mr Maccabeus.” She chuckled lightly. “I brought you here because you’re treading on my toes.” Her sultry purr laced with a Chelsea accent as she took a seat, outstretching her hand to offer Samuel to sit. Waiting for him to accept or decline before continuing.

“We are both in the trade of information, a source of income for both our other activities I’d assume.” Cecilia looked him in the eyes, hoping he’d understand. “I’m not going to put this lightly, but prostitution has very little money in it and I need to make sure my girls are save and looked after, where better than in this hotel with a personal guard?” She rhetorically asked. “But I need the money I get from my information broking to protect these girls and guys. I’m begging, please, give me back some of my customers, it is not too much to ask.”

Cecilia felt a shiver, as the odd presence seemed to leave the room, her connection to the hotel building had grown since the first time she stepped foot in it. Now she was so connected to the building she could see what it had seen and very few people believed that the buildings they entered had eyes so tend not to erase themselves from the building’s memory, a rare one or two have.

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn
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“No, Mr Maccabeus, I brought you here because you’re treading on my toes.”


She was purring at him. Trying to use her charms against him as she spoke. Samuel's eyes merely followed her as she spoke, at this point he seemed rather detached. There was absolutely no emotion crossing his face. If anything, under his guise, he was annoyed and rather bothered by the accusation and the fact she kept on thinking that he was scum enough to fall for her female tricks and the 'lady-of-pleasures-and-sexy-sounds act'.

“We are both in the trade of information, a source of income for both our other activities I’d assume. I’m not going to put this lightly, but prostitution has very little money in it and I need to make sure my girls are save and looked after, where better than in this hotel with a personal guard? But I need the money I get from my information broking to protect these girls and guys. I’m begging, please, give me back some of my customers, it is not too much to ask.”


He considered this, silently thinking. His eyes actually closed as he thought but as they did that shimmering barrier grew more apparent. Thoughts ran through his brain before his eyes opened once more and grazed back on her, iris' locking on hers.

"And how, may I ask, lassie is your business of any more important than mine? Nevermind that though... If you want me to settle on this you'll have to cut me a deal. By the by, stop it with the sultry and seducing act. Its entirely unfitting and makes me rather disinclined to deal with you. Unless like most men I have a leash on hormones."


That cocky grin once again crossed his face as he looked up at her. He was a bold son of a bitch that was sure but not without reason and not without skill to back it up. He slouched into a chair on the side of the female's desk and looked at her with a soft and almost innocent looking cant to his head. He again seemed completely non-threatening and disheveled other than the rather nice suit he wore.

"So... Place a deal on the table and be quick about it. I have places to be and people to meet and I assure you, my time is worth every damn penny in your pockets."

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn
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"And how, may I ask, lassie is your business of any more important than mine? Nevermind that though... If you want me to settle on this you'll have to cut me a deal. By the by, stop it with the sultry and seducing act. Its entirely unfitting and makes me rather disinclined to deal with you. Unless like most men I have a leash on hormones."

Cecilia’s nostril started to twitch, she felt the need to rip the cocky grin from his face or better yet, give him an ever present one, a quick movement and she could have him biting the table and her foot stamping on his head, ‘Welcome to Chelsea, Manchester.’ She thought to herself, but with a deep breath she regained herself.

"So... Place a deal on the table and be quick about it. I have places to be and people to meet and I assure you, my time is worth every damn penny in your pockets."


“No man is ever in full control of his hormones, unless…” She chuckled, “Unless he’s gay, a-sexual or no man at all.” She looked down at his groin and tilted her head, implying he was castrated.

“Look at me getting off topic,” she shook her head and her eyes moved back up to Sam’s face. “I care for those that need care most, I’m protecting those that can’t protect themselves. Whilst all you Priory assholes do is cause more problems for our kind.” She retorted, she had no time for the Priory whilst her girls and guys were subjected to prejudice and hate because of a small number of Psi that couldn’t just face the fact that it was basically the entire Psi that symbolized the Dawning and the deaths of countless millions.

“I have nothing to give you, you stole from me. Why should I pay you for something you stole from me?” She asked him, her patience for Plan A, slowly draining from her. “You must have had family before the Dawning, if they were still here wouldn’t you do anything and everything to save them, protect them from this world.“

She was hoping maybe she could convince him with emotion. “Please, don’t take away the little hope we have left. These ‘whores’ they are my family, I have to protect them, provided for them, please.” Her eyes were welling up, this was real motion but no doubt he would see this as fake, think she was trying to manipulate him into giving back her clients.

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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#, as written by Raidose
D3d LyT3 had just finished his little masterpiece in Ms. Wolfe's private quarters when it came to him. This body which he wore, not even worth calling a suit but simply a tool to be used to his own means, still needed the baser necessities any other living being did. These lesser needs often went completely unnoticed by Oz, for he was simply an operator of this abandoned flesh bag since it's owner's passing. One of those needs was rest, and it had been over sixty-five hours since he last did so. He knew this because he'd set a watch on his person for just such a reminder, and in exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, it would go off. In the other room, events that hadn't yet unfolded played out in his mind. Things were not going too smoothly, at least not for a much needed RTB.

"I have nothing to give you, you stole from me. Why should I pay you for something you stole from me? You must have had family before the Dawning, if they were still here wouldn't you do anything and everything to save them, protect them from this world. Please, don't take away the little hope we have left. These ‘whores’ they are my family, I have to protect them, provide for them, please."

Oh? What's this, real tears? I hadn't thought Hawethorn capable of causing that reaction. Still, this is taking much too long. There has to be a way to.... Ah, yes. She'll do nicely....

The future he'd just seen was still several minutes away, time to spare for him and his new target. Alana..... Her name rolled around in his head a moment in mirth. Such an odd thing, playing with other's memories. Much like how his predecessor use to in his youth... No matter. Her skills made her a viable alternative, so perhaps a little chat may help things smooth over in the days to come.It wasn't hard to find her in this rather compact complex. Downstairs, seven guards, three civilians, and in mid conversation. Perfect.




From Alana's view, nothing had become apparent immediately but there was something.... off. She couldn't name it, but everything just seemed a little slower, like it stuttered for a moment. Her lack of attention made her miss exactly when it happened, but at some point her friends went dead silent. When her eyes focussed back on them, it didn't register at first. They were just sitting there for a few seconds too long before it finally clicked. They were sitting there. Just sitting, breathing, and staring back at her without a word or even blink. One of the guards was patrolling between floors, after first leaving the restroom. He'd walk near the far wall, check in on the second door on the right, smile, nod, close the door, and proceed upstairs. The moment he was out of sight, she could hear the door to the restroom open as the same guard stepped out, repeating the cycle. All the reflective surfaces around her werealso becoming strange, developing such a thick tarnish on them that they ceased to reflect anything, simply being dull and rather alien.

Alana looked down the hallway that she'd came from and saw it nearly pitch black in darkness, a total contrast to the brightly lit one she remembered treading earlier. Looking around, she quickly noticed all the exits from this room were exactly the same, blocked off by total darkness. Her breath quickened, eyes darting around for something, anything normal. This was a dream, there was no alternative. Nothing changed or moved for the longest time. She knew this because all she could do was stare and watch it all, till finally she spotted something different. Alana only noticed it in her quick rescan as a mirror, though it seemed as black as the hallway. When her eyes jumped back to it, there was a.... thing in it. No, not a thing. A person. With eyes. Big, glowing eyes. Frozen in a cold dread, she was fixated on this manifestation, and it simply stared right back at her. Alana could count the seconds, and just when eight had passed, she watched it raise a hand....

And grip the frame of the mirror.

The scream caught in her throat as her new visitor stepped in through the reflection. His steps echoed throughout the room as he moved, taking an age as if in slow motion. It didn't matter, though, Alana couldn't move if she tried. "You saw me" it stated, sounding strangely pleased. "Good. Do you know who I am?" Her hands dug into the cushions of the small couch she was sitting in, trying desperately to push her farther away from Him. "Come any closer and I'll scream!" she yelled at him. Her small amount of defiance shattered when he laughed in genuine amusement. Then came a moment of unawareness, like an involuntary blink, and he was now standing next to her friends. "Have you ever wondered, what it would feel like to have centipedes in your mouth?" His words seemed so strange and out of place it actually silenced her for a moment. What came next, more so. From out of the smiling faces of her prostitute friends came hundreds of them. Legs pushing open their lips and feelers flailing about, crawling up and down their faces. Soon the hundred-legged insects were falling from the ceiling, crawling out from behind the mirror and paintings, and from under the cushions of her seat. She screamed only for a moment before going quiet, feeling what she could only fathom to be thousands of squirming legs inside her throat....

Another instant of darkness flashed, and it was all gone. All of it, every wriggling, squirming bug. Even her living-doll-like friends and that guard set on "repeat". The darkness was completely receded, the mirror was reflecting the world before it, and sunlight shown in through the windows. But before she could feel safe, it dawned upon her that it wasn't daylight outside... "Very good." Those words came in on another blink, back to the blackened hallways and reflectionless world. No bugs, though, or friends, or guard. Only him, sitting maybe a few inches away, staring back at her. Her lips parted to something, anything, but found his finger pressed against them. Her eyes caught the flicker of insect feelers dart from the cuff of his coat for only a second, understanding the message in full. "No more words. Just listen, and understand." His hand retracted from her face as he leaned closer. "The lights are dying Alana, and when they do this great game we're all playing will end. But now you have a role to play, and a very special one."

The confusion was evident on her face, but she kept quiet. "I knew a boy like you once, a long time ago. He liked to watch them, too. The things people keep in their heads. He'd peep in and spy and laugh and giggle, just like what you do. Then one day that boy was taken away, and he became someone else. A man, and a very bad one. He died, and I watched, and peeped, and spied. Sometimes I'd even laugh and giggle. You see, I'm a very bad man, too, and I know what Psi-CON likes to do to good little boys and girls like you and him. They don't like their memories not being secret, so they take us. And we're never seen again. But I might be lying, so I want to give you something...." Reaching out his hand, D3d LyT3 sensed her unwillingness in taking it. "No tricks or games to play today, Alana. Just some favorite moments of a life before. The memories of a dear, dear friend of mine, and some from his friends, too. Don't you want to see?" Tentatively, hesitantly, she touched his hand, though the images she received were a very handpicked few. Memories of pain, screaming, scalpels, and guns. Of experiments she saw as a witness of and victim to. Of raids on homes and hideouts. Lastly, of people being taken, many of them younger than her.

The connection snapped and she immediately felt like vomiting at what she'd seen, rolling onto the floor retching in tears. "Do you know what that was? That is how Psi-CON operates without anything challenging them. If no one in this city draws their attention away from people like you, then their only priority will become people like you. And..." He lingered off as she finally looked up and beheld the room where her dearest friend was entertaining their guest Samuel. "Cecilia...." he purred. They were both frozen in time, mid conversing. His eyes lowered back down to Alana, seeing her struggle to take it all in. "Out of everyone here, you are the only one who could read memories. My memories, and know them to be true. You are the only one who'd know they were not tricks or illusions. That was life without the Priory. It may also become your future. Take it how ever you may, and...." he droned as time resumed only for a brief line. "I care for those that need care most, I'm protecting those that can't protect themselves. Whilst all you Priory assholes do is cause more problems for our kind."

As soon as that was said, they both vanished. Alana looked up, meeting D3d LyT3's gaze in a cold chill. "Take a moment to compose yourself. Then share what you've learned. Tell her. Show her where exactly she stands, without ignorance to hide behind. She would listen to no one else but you. Though when you wake, the worst of it will be dulled away...." he trailed off again, leaving her to wonder what had just happened before everything faded out.

Alana awoke on the sofa she sat on earlier, being gently shook by her friends. "Alana, sweety, are you ok? You just went out on us!" As the small group consoled the teary-eyed girl, D3d LyT3 watched them from the hall. This was an interesting hand he decided to play. She could turn Cecilia into an ally in time.... though it may also come back to haunt him. He honestly didn't know either way, but to him that simply made it exciting. Still one more thing to take care of. Just like that, all thoughts of her resemblance to that of the original host died as he stalked his way past the guards and back into Cecilia's meeting room. The moment was exactly just as she'd given her emotional speech, and awaited an answer. D3d LyT3 loved seeing these moments play out, but all of it would have to wait for another day. This scene had played out for entirely too long, and besides that, he always loved cliff-hangers.

Memories are always interesting things, our only evidence of our lives and the passage of time. Taking a memory could change a person for life, altering one key fragment from their past. But if memories are of our past, then what keeps track of the present? Where is the dividing line between our perception of what is happening, and our memories of what has just happened? The truth was that this line was a rather fine one, and if any individual with the ability to completely remove a memory were to, say, start removing the memories that were being made this instant, it would leave this portion of time as an invariable blank in consciousness. Not a coma, just simply unaware of every single thing happening to them and around them for the entire span.

To phrase it simply, when Cecilia paused for a moment to wipe the tears from her eyes, she would open them to find Samuel gone. Samuel, in the same fashion, would come to awareness standing beside an open manhole cover.


(Shadow's contribution)


Samuel's eyes opened to him suddenly standing by a sewer grating that was open. First shock ran through him, and then confusion, and then anger. Whoever transported him here just tampered with his business. His gaze soon shifted though, looking around the area he had suddenly appeared in. At this point he had no idea whether he was now in a Sigma trap or if it was the psychopath that was watching the meeting; on that note he had no idea whether it was real or not at the same.

He stood there, thinking, defensive, ready for somebody or something to attack him before closing his eyes, exhaling a deep breathe and climbing down into the manhole left wide open for him.

(End of contribution)




Emotional moment utterly ruined with both parties left in total bewilderment. It really is the little things in life. That one gleaming moment that makes everything so lovely. A solid thump sounded as D3d LyT3's boots impacted the floor, having crawled through an antiquated and slowly degrading ductwork system to his personal bolt-hole. His favorite door in the world. It took D3d LyT3 one whole year to make it. A reinforced steel bulkhead door at the end of a hallway lined with hidden claymore mines. The door is locked by a fifteen-digit key code, which changes randomly every single second. One single wrong number, and all the mines detonate, effectively disintegrating any living thing in the hallway, and locking the door permanently. One whole year. But! This wasn't that door. This wasn't that bolt-hole. This was the one he made in the bar-space in the carcass of a building above the eastward river of the Priory's home. A little more accessible. Well, at least for anyone capable of accessing a hole in the ceiling thirty feet off the ground.

He peered down at the Priory's dying night-life below before checking in. The old oak door wasn't quite as secure as the steel one in his other hide-away, but it was still rigged. Two double-barrel shotguns ready to blast anyone who even jiggled the handle, let alone knocked the door down. Of course, not a threat if you could flip the safety on the guns from the other side of the wall. No lights greeted him when he walked in. After all, none were needed. The door was closed and locked, guns rearmed. Home, sweet home. The clasps to his kevlar arm guards came loose, letting the clunk to the ground along with his shinguards. His coat simply slid from his shoulders, down his arms, and was flung to the side. Guns, knives, clips, grenades, and the holsters for all of them simply undid themselves of seamingly their own accord. The self-sealing collar of his mask hissed with air and the clamps of the back of his head undid, letting him pull the mask free and set it upon the bar counter. His gloves, boots, and bio-weave body armor followed, leaving ivory white skin and a road map of scars.

Lifeless, milky eyes occupied the center of darkened rings. A shaved near-bald head of hair was broken up by spiderwebs of both surgical and concussive scarring. A nose nearly flattened like it'd been broken to dust and back again. A face that looked like it was sculpted by blunt force trauma and a lifetime of abuse, and a body to match. Both emaciated and yet toned to cartoonish standards at the same time, each limb marked with dozens of perfectly carved deep lines, mapping out his entire nervous system. With an autonomous gait he stepped over to the containment case in the far corner. Unclipping the lid, D3d LyT3 opened it to reveal the row of cleaned mask filters within their sterilising cases, being slowly cleaned and made ready for reuse. Unscrewing the used cartridge and fastening it into the empty cased, the lid slid shut as the sterilising agent began the fog up the interior. The aches and pains of the days past usually went unnoticed, though that one in his jaw had been pestering him for a while now. Reaching into his mouth, he managed to pluck another chip of tooth from his already ruined smile. Just one more thing to remind him he yet still lived.

Deep sleep was something D3d LyT3, or more specifically Oz, avoided at every opportunity. Ironic, maybe, that the nightmares would plague him so. More so when the dreams of his fellow occupants sometimes leaked through into his. It'd been too long for a light rest, so the next best option was an induced coma. Byrathine, a modern day resynthesized version of traditional morphine made to be more acceptable by the body to drastically lower the danger of use. Excellent for use in the field by soldiers, and half the chance triggering any allergic reaction. And still it took a normally lethal dose for D3d LyT3 to achieve the desired effect. That damnable awareness of his was always difficult to suppress. To be intimately knowing of every single thing happening around him, or about to be happening around him. So many thoughts and memories, and God above help him when ever he accidentally tapped into Xiaoyan's little network. To see, hear, feel, and entirely know of every grain of wood rotting above him was bad enough, but there will never be a Hell like all those voices. Though finally, blissfully, the edges of his conscious mind faded with a dull numbness. A creeping silence slowly rolled in. He laid down on the hard wooden counter of the bar, a splash of vodka in his mouth to kill the tinge of blood, the open bottle still in his hand....

And the blackness finally took hold.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Cecilia Wolfe Character Portrait: Samuel Maccabeus Hawethorn Character Portrait: D3d LyT3
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Cecilia looked up to see Samuel was gone and she let out a sigh, “Mother fucker.” Escaped her lips, as she made sure it wasn’t just an illusion. Cecilia threw her weapons back in the drawer and slammed it shut. She slumped back into her chair and huffed, she needed to get her clients back and quickly, but how, she didn’t know.

Cecilia fell asleep slumped in the chair and not long after was awoken by a light rapping at her office door. “What?” She moaned, her voice slurred from sleep.
Cecilia?” She heard the familiar voice of Alana ask into the dark room.
“Yeah?” Cecilia opened her eyes and sat up in the chair.
What are you sitting in the dark for?” Alana asked and Cecilia chuckled.
“I wasn’t I was sleeping.” Cecilia admitted to the young girl, rubbing her eyes and yawning slightly, she hadn’t realized how tired she was.
Oh, I’m sorry. Alana gasped. “I can come back.

Cecilia shook her head, but quickly remembered the light was off and spoke up.
“No, it’s fine. Come in, turn the light on.” Cecilia heard the flick of the light switch and then she noticed the redness around Alana’s eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Nothing, I just… I just…” Alana looked as if she was struggling to remember something but it just wasn’t coming to her, then she looked up. “Cecilia, join the Priory.” Cecilia shook her head, her eyes grew wide and a gasp escaped her mouth, but before she could say anything, Alana grabbed her wrist and shared the new memories.

Cecilia yanked her hand free and she looked up at Alana, tears were streaming down her face. “My friends, my family. They’re all dead because no one would fight back. They tortured me, maimed me and worst of all you’ve done nothing to stop them doing it to anyone else.” Alana picked up a pair of scissors from the desk.

“Alana, what are you doing?” Cecilia started backing away from the girl as she started to lose her mentality, the images and ideas too much for her to handle. “They aren’t your memories, you’re family is still alive, you’ve never been near a Psi-CON facility.” Cecilia desperately tried to remind Alana that they were someone else’s memories and not her own. Luckily it worked, but it caused the young girl to drop the scissors and lift her hands to her head, she fell onto her knees crying in pain.

The door swung violently open and one of the guards came in, “Get Violet!” Cecilia yelled at him, as she cradled the crying Alana, the guard quickly ran off. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Cecilia whispered, stroking the Alana’s hair.

Cecilia waited outside the door, pacing impatiently. She kept hearing constant doors opening and closing, each time she’d look up and hope it was Violet coming out of Alana’s room but it wasn’t.

Cecilia kept the pacing going for a solid hour before Violet finally emerged from the room.
“How is she? Is she okay?” Cecilia asked the minute she saw her.
Yes, she’ll be fine. She just needs some rest.” Violet replied, placing her hands on Cecilia’s arm and rubbing them reassuringly. “And I think you do too.” Cecilia merely nodded before walking up the hall, hanging her head.

Cecilia opened her bedroom door and walked in, her eyes closed as she tried to calm herself down. She shut the door and lent against it, letting a sigh escape her lips as she opened her mouth.

Cecilia gasped at the sight, her room was covered in multi-coloured ‘I C U’s and in the centre all of the now empty tubes formed a large number 9. Cecilia ran over to the number and kicked the tubes away, she looked up into one of the mirrors and where her eyes should be, were two large, solid circles of violet. Amelia let out a little yelp and ran over to the mirror, instead of wiping the lipstick from the mirror she simply pulled it over, the shards of broken mirror flying all across the floor. Cecilia placed her hand on the nearest wall and took in a deep breath.

She was in the room, before it was ever defaced by whatever creep thought he’d get away with it. Cecilia watched the door for the intruder but they never came through. Instead someone walked through her, they’re identity concealed by a trench coat and gas mask, the only thing revealing the identity. The purple eyes.

Cecilia’s breath quickened and she tried to wake herself up, she had heard the legends and stories. The boogeyman. The Candy man. Dead Light. Cecilia could feel her heart beat start to race, why was he there? Why Cecilia? Was he the presence?

She watched as Dead Light defaced the room with his ominous graffiti and then made the number 9 in the middle of the room. Cecilia let out a sigh of relief as she saw him begin to float through the floor but her heart stopped when he paused and turned her neck. His eyes, the bright purple eyes, staring right at her, she knew it was her, could feel him staring at her and he wagged his finger, like a disproving mother, mocking her.

Before Cecilia could do anything, a massive surge of Psionic energy flowed through the room. The surge causing Cecilia to be thrown from the memory and causing her head to throb so hard that she blacked out.