Nephilim

[Cenodoxus]

OOC :: I´m very sorry about the extreme lateness of this RPG--a lot of things have come up at unfortunate times, but all in all there´s no excuse. My apologies to everyone participating. I´m sending PMs to remind everyone about the RPG.

Because we don´t yet know our angelic names, it would be best to post the name of our character at the beginning of every post until we do know them, in order to avoid confusion.

Now, into the story...

***​

(Zeruel, God´s Silence)

Light found its way through the concrete and crevices, the ripped curtains and blood-stained drapes.

Light twisted and bent to make way through the impermeable mist of dark and the stench of decay and waste.

The boy´s face twitched slightly with reluctance, one eyelid fluttering to the touch of the faintest ray of dawn.

Unfortunately for him and his kind, light would always find a way.

N E P H I L I M​

As if the birth of morning light had alerted all officials, trainers and other bothersome figures of authority within the building, Scorpio sprang to life at once. With glum knowledge of what would immediately follow, the thirteen-year old fallen angel listened for the thumping of boots descending down the stairs to his chamber, wishing that he couldn´t hear them.

The door swung open. The boy had been having a dream, and while he was glad it was over, it still felt better than waking up to another routine training session. Now that he was fully conscious reality was able to wash over him. He was tired, cold and wet.

"F.ucking hell!" His trainer exclaimed without decorum, covering his crooked nose with a gloved hand. "Don´t give me this s.hit, kid!" With a swift kick of his shiny, black boots, the boy jerked and rolled over to the other side of the concrete three-by-five-meter floor that also served as his bed, leaving the smelly stain on which he had been lying on by itself.

Now positioned so that he was facing his instructor, the boy took a moment to study his trainer´s face. He had been instructed by three different men throughout his life. He assumed that their tasks had been changed, or they were dead. Whenever his instructor changed, the new one simply continued as if nothing had happened. This man, however, was just like all the others--he was ugly, mean, short-haired and as far as he was concerned, hardly more important than the pile of oversized flies that had begun to breed at the dampest corner of his room.

"Yeah." He answered, although his answer didn´t really make sense, as he rose to a half-fetal position. Admittedly he was embarrassed. He had been experiencing extraordinary dreams. First, he was the big monster, crushing all the people and eating them and knocking down buildings like he used to. But then a bigger monster came. And that monster then ate him.

He didn´t enjoy being swallowed; he wasn´t a toy, after all. He certainly wasn´t like his instructor, who could get stomped and crushed and ripped apart and munched by a dinosaur and he couldn´t have cared less. It scared him, and these were the results.

"Get up already. I´ll send the cleaning crew in. Stupid baby." The trainer growled, halting the boy´s train of thought. He stood up in the recognition of a new, unavoidable day. He began to make his way toward the door, out into a tiny concrete space, up the dusty stairs, make a left, go past the boiler room, into the mess hall where he would be served a platter of unidentifiable mush. He was resigned and at the same time rebellious.

He was stopped before getting out of the pestilent chamber that he resided in, however. His instructor was gripping his shoulder tightly and it was rather painful.

"Not with that. F.uck."

The boy gazed down. Obviously, his shorts were soaked.

He really hoped they wouldn´t tell the others about this.

***​

A change of clothes and some more yelling later, he had finally managed to make it to the mess hall, where a number of other people were already out and about. They were all familiar faces, but he did not know their names. That was the way of Scorpio, after all. No unnecessary bonding. Now that he thought about it, he didn´t know his instructor´s name. He didn´t need to, just like the instructor didn´t need to know his. To the rest of the world, he had always been three-five-two-seven. That would be that.

"Sit." The man barked with authority, pulling a metallic chair out from under the table and walking away, evidently uninterested now that his duties were over. The boy accepted it calmly, as he did every day, and took his corresponding seat. This round table had always been reserved for him and for the six others. Apparently bonding was necessary when you were going to fight along with others. All their exercises were together. All their classes were together. He remembered being six years old, and being allowed some play time where he would go and be with the others. There was no evidence, but just a feeling, that they were connected beyond being slaves of Scorpio.

But such philosophizing wasn´t useful now or in the battlefield. He had to eat quickly, as evidently he had spent all of the instructor´s patience with the incident earlier in the morning. The pile of unmistakeably yellow porridge--whatever it consisted of--sat there, waiting for him. Every day was a repetition of the last. He was tired, and he was bored and he wanted to take the entire place down. Something told him that soon, soon something would happen and a big change would take place.

No such hope existed anymore, as far as he could see. 3527 took the first spoonful to his mouth--he would have thought it tasted awful, but he had little to compare it to.

OOC :: The beginning of the RPG is rather straightforward. Your character is woken up in the morning by his/her instructor, as per usual, and goes through the typical routine. Your introductory post should end as your character approaches the breakfast table. After this, some battle exercises and other events will follow, but remember--you do not yet know you are a Nephilim, or anything of the sort. The revelation will come tonight.

If you would like to ask any questions or give any comments as to how the story is going so far, or if you simply want to learn more about Heaven and Hell, visit the discussion thread in the RPG Café. Lastly, I´m once again sorry about the lateness. Let´s hope this goes well.

 

[Endarkened_Gardevoir]

(Semiel, God's Clarity)

The light slid in, always annoying.

It snuck, crawled, weedled it's way to him.

Light wanted him to be up, moving, DOING.

He and his kind despised the light.

***
3142 had fallen asleep with headphones on. It'd been listening to a C.D. it'd gotten, music for some card game. If 3142 would have liked the game, it didn't know, since no one ever played games with him. They gave it game systems as a leash, and they'd even given it games based on the card game. 3142 still didn't know if it liked it. The game was complicated, after all. So many combinations, it was often too lazy to follow the combos.

Stacked the deck myself
So there's no one else to blame... In it's sleep, 3142 frowned. It felt as if it knew something there. About then, cursing tried to drift through 3142's music. Just as it registered someone else was in its room, a hand wrapped around its braid yanking its head up and smashing it into the wall.

"Said get the f.uck up, you lazy little b.astard! I swear I don't know why they keep you, f.ucking a.ss freak!" Frabjulous joy, 3142's trainer was here. this was 3142's 5th trainer, and by far the one it hated the most. The only one 3142 had ever liked that had trained it had been the first one. That one hadn't called it freak. They all called it that, though it asked to be called male things. Just because it had both male and female parts. It was mostly male anyway.

Sometime's it's over,
Before it's even begun... The music was still playing. 3142 began to be sure it hated the song as the trainer finally let go of its braid and let it get dressed. Maybe the music was responsible for its weird dreams. 3142 had dreamed it was a monster, not a terribly huge one, but a monster none the less. It had killed people by smacking their heads off and landing on them and making their backs and necks break. It had been a happy monster, and then something had come and hurt it, something it didn't like.

3142 was somewhat certain that the thing had been something of light.

***

More yelling when the trainer thought that 3142 hadn't put its clothes on, then a brutal smack when the trainer realized that the outfit practically blended in with it skin, and 3142 was permited to go to eat. It frowned, headphones still on, music blaring loud enough to be vaguely heard by other's as they walked by it, but it obeyed.

Is what happens next in your control?
Are you doing what you want, or what you've been told? 3142 was wondering if it'd broken its C.D. player. The same song kept playing. It didn't like the idea of its stuff being broken. The trainer would make it earn a new one, killing some idiot it didn't even care about. It might have cared far more if it got to kill who it wanted, but it took its kills where it could get them for now.

It sat at the table, noting that 3527 was there already. It tried to remember if 3527 had always looked the way he did. 3142 was fairly sure that it hadn't seen 3527 age in awhile. It could remember play time with 3527 and the others, and that had been years ago. Surely 3527 ought to have aged by now. 3142 stared at its breakfast, wrinkling its nose. It didn't want porridge for the umpty millionth time. Yes, it was lazy, but it wanted something NEW. It had the odd feeling something new would happen soon. Still, it decided to do something it didn't usually do anyway. It turned and asked 3527 a question.

"How come you don't age?"

(OOC: I can modify the post if you want. I just thought it had to strike one of the older one's that the 'younger ones' have been younger for years, while they've aged and outgrown them. So it seemed logical to have Semiel start wondering why Zeruel hasn't gone past 6 when he remembers being '6' and playing with Zeruel at '6'.)

 

[Cenodoxus]

OOC :: It´s perfectly fine. Not to mention a valid question.

(Zeruel, God´s Silence)

3527 stopped churning his tongue around the infamous protein sludge that he was attempting to eat as he heard the question.

Questions weren´t very common in Scorpio. The tacit system of communication was of orders, orders being followed, and new orders being given. Questioning anything about this process was strongly discouraged.

"...I don´t age?" The boy inquired back, oblivious as he was to the speed of his physical changes. It was one of the other six, that black-skinned person that always seemed to be doing something other than what was ordered. It was strongly discouraged.

"I guess that I have looked the same for a while now. But that doesn´t mean that anything is wrong with me..." He muttered, as the realization swept over him. Everyone around him had been much younger when he was small. He remembered it, and yet he was still in the body of a slightly larger child, when something told him that he should probably be a little bigger by now.

"...But you´re right. Everyone´s getting older and older faster than me. You´re getting older faster than me."

This newfound truth, as if to break the detestably predictable routine, entertained the boy greatly. He giggled to himself, finding energy and enthusiasm that had laid dormant for what seemed to him eons.

"Your name is three-one-four-two." He spelled out slowly, matter-of-factly, changing the subject all of a sudden. "But I think it´s too long. Don´t you? I think I´m going to start calling you Two from now on."

And after the game had begun, the natural progression simply followed. His face lit up with strange excitement once again. "And my name is three-five-two-seven! So I´m going to be Seven now. We could name everyone like this. Wouldn´t that be a lot--"

As with most vaguely entertaining things in Scorpio, entertainment lived shortly. The boy´s speech was promptly ended by a smack on the back of the head that sent his head against the table, and bouncing back up with a painful thud.

"Less talk and more eating." Another instructor, in charge of watching the mess hall, ordered mechanically. The boy obeyed, oblivious to the pain he had just experienced, and slid another spoonful of mashed whatever-it-was into his mouth.

"You´re Two and I´m Seven", he whispered after the instructor had walked away, and then continued to eat in self-blissful silence.

 

[Endarkened_Gardevoir]

(ooc: Gah, sorry, had a brain blip earlier. I don't know what little imp told me to say six, since Zeruel looks 13. Again, sorry.)

(Semiel, God's Clarity.)

3142 had been about to respond to 3527's idea when the instructor in charge of the eating hall smacked 3527. 3142 hated when people hit it, or the others. It always wanted to hit them back, but it didn't quite dare. They would take away its game systems if it fought back. It liked its games enough to be fairly complacent. However, it liked 3527's idea as well. 3142 was far too long a name, even in numerical form, so it decided it would indeed call itself Two from now on, until something better was provided.

It nodded in response to Seven's whisper, then thought for a bit more, slopping its porridge out of the spoon and back into the bowl a few times before it had another thought. Almost none of them were the same age, yet Two could swear that they had all been here about the same amount of years that it could remember. It'd seen the humans age at a constant rate, while its own aging and those of the other six was erratic at best.

"Eldest is late twenties, youngest is nine. They tell me I'm 19. Yet I think some of us age faster than everyone else at times and some of us age slower. Seven, what do you think?" It was the practically forbidden question. Scorpio had tried to pound that in firmly from the start. For the seven that Two was roughly the middle aged member of, thinking was a no-no. Thinking got you bloodied and beaten and occasionally poked with things called tasers that zapped and hurt and made you have embarrassing accidents.

For all his laziness, Two did think anyway.

 

[RaZoR LeAf]

There are places, far away places that spend more than half their existance in the darkness. Not like here. When the darkness ends there is only light. Harsh and blinding, banishing shadow, doubt and serenity with it's immense glow. Perhaps this is better. Perhaps, this is how it's meant to be.

(Camael, God's Heart)

He awoke, shutting his eyes again as white burnt into his mind. He rolled over to escape the cold light pouring through his uncovered window. Blinking, the soft outline of a person standing over him brought him out of his delusions with a shot. He sat up in bed and reached for a tatty, dirt encrusted shirt that hung from a crudely made bed post. He pulled it on and straightened his hair a little. It was never messy, always looking perfect no mater how he slept on it.

"Hurry it up, we haven't go all day." the man standing over him said.

6491 glanced up, but carried on as normal, dressing himself in the plain and boring scrubs than all Scoprio inmates wore. He's only occasionally seen anyone wearing something with more colour. An out of the corner shot just as a door closed. He was sure it was red, maybe Pink or orange. It was a nice colour, one he liked. His dreams of late had been filled with that colour. Pink, maybe orange, but definitely lots of red. The colours would rage around in his mind, flowing over everything in sight, reducing what they touched to blackened ash. Like flames.

"Can you..?" 6491 started to ask but stopped, regretting it.

"Can I what?" the man asked him impatiently "If you aren't up and out of that door in the next ten seconds, you'll loose those precious locks faster than I dare to imagine."

6491 stood up and walked out of the door. His trainer followed him. The man was grumpy, ignorant and a sleaze. Perhaps that was why he was a trainer. Most of the trainers seemed to be the same. 6491 thought back to his dream. The thoughts of flames, dancing across his mind filled his nose with a strange scent he'd been picking up every time he woke in the night. It smelt rancid, like some kind of rotten food. With nothing to compare it to other than a dubious yellow slop they called porridge, he couldn't place the scent or explain what it was.

6491 wondered why he never saw he other trainers that had taught him in the past. He'd gone through several female and male staff all of which started to treat him differently before vanishing from the program completely. He entered the food hall still arranging his thoughts. It wasn't quiet, but the level of conversation was as low as it ever was. The lack of interaction made him feel uncomfortable, but he knew what came from breaking the rules. He found cuts and bruises on his person even more distressing than the silence.

A bowl of the unmistakable porridge sat ready for him as he sat down at a circular table with seven seats. One was empty, the occupant having not arrived quite yet. 6491 prodded the food with a spoon. It barely reacted to the pressure, as if it were a solid piece of plastic. He pushed down, breaking a seal over the top, sending a waft of hot, putrid air into his face.

"Eat it, or don't eat for the rest of the day." his trained said, pushing 6491's face closer to the bowl. He struggled slightly, but downed a piled spoonful into his mouth quickly to avoid retribution. Left alone to eat his food, he looked across at the others, all of which ate their food with the same silent reactions. Then the youngest of the seven arrived and filled the vacant seat. Then he and another started to talk. 6491 tried to catch their eye and non-verbally tell them to quit it, but the damage was done. One was struck, they both shut up pretty quick. 6491 titled his head back to his porridge, and went back to eating it. The silence was deafening.

 

[Eeveeking929]

Light streamed through, blinding, painful.
The light is painful, harmful,
And yet, it is necessary.
Without it, there would be no life.

Nathaniel (God's Mercy)

As usual, the boy's instructor came in, waving his one hand, yelling.
"Waking up you lazy useless b.stard!" He shouted at him. This man was the young man's fourteenth instructor. The rest had all had... accidents in training. This man had been lucky to get away with his hand. The young man, who had been known his entire life as 7304, rose from his bed, and without so much as a word, shoved the instructor out of the room, closed the door, and locked it. He then set about getting ready, putting on a clean uniform and making sure he was looking okay in his mirror. As he was lacing up his boots (which was about the funnest thing he got to do on just about any day,) 7304 wondered about his last nights dream. It was very odd, a flash of bone here, a spiders leg there, but worst of all the head. The head of a wolf, completely bare boned. Terrifying, and at the same time, the boy had not been afraid. In fact, he had been behind the skull. Finally, he was ready, and was taken to the mess hall, at the same tome being reprimanded by his intructor. The boy arrived at his table, and took a seat with the rest of his group, a meager group of seven. If he had to guess, 7304 would have said that they were a group of assassins, specifically put together for their individual skills. The youngest one, 3527, was saying something about their codes being too long, and had resolved to shorten it to the last number. Foolishness, as proven when the boy was smacked hard. 7304 put his head down, and began to eat his lumpy yellow porridge.

 

[The Admiral]

(Baraqiel ¤ God's Force)

It seemed to be some sort of perfect, starless sky, uninterrupted. An apocalyptic future? Maybe, but that sort of thing always appealed to people, this whole starless-sky stuff... If you did it right, it was the most hypnotizing thing most people would look upon. Suddenly came the call--

"Wake up, you stupid f.uck!" A tall, gangly man screamed down at the large man, known exclusively as 7819. He stood up quickly and buttoned the torn shirt he wore quickly, in a desparate attempt to conceal the whip scars on his chest.

"You don't need to be so hasty," said the thin instructor, only his ninth; "everyone knows about that."

"Bullsh.it they do!" countered the man. He was hardly even properly dressed. He threw on a proper pair of pants. He ran downstairs swiftly, because he had learned this time that his trainer was a bit, uh, crazy.

He marched on, irked by the trainer's continued presence. Secretly, he was thinking "F.uck him, f.uck him, f.uck him, he's a f.ucking a.sshole and he doesn't f.ucking know anything. I need sleep as much as the next guy." Truth be told, though, the trainer was actually an ironic godsend, being that he had been a driving force - to some extent - to the larger man's success. Even though lots of plans to annihilate him flooded his mind, he never really acted on them because, deep down, he knew that he owed quite a lot to him, but he would never admit it.

"Abusive piece of shi.t. I'm gonna kill him one day, f.ucking c.unt," he muttered to himself when he was fairly sure he was away from almost all of the main trainers who would have beat the shi.t out of him. He ran all the way down to the breakfast table, ready to eat his lumpy... er, stuff. For all he knew it was horse crap, but it's what they gave him, so he couldn't argue. He sat down calmly on the metallic chair. He muttered under his breath slightly, then shut up promptly.

[[OOC: Yeah, it's short. I know.]]

-Tempus Fugit

 

[Literate]

It was cold.
Quiet.
Silence was deafening.
This place needed some noise.
A lot of it, he thought.

(Remiel, God's Wisdom)

Dark, damp, and cold, almost freezing sometimes. It could never get warmer than cold, does it?

He stared straight at the door, slate pupils blinking shut every five seconds. In silence, he waited, watching as the darkness continued to surround him. Shadows of shadows crept down the wall, entertainment he normally didn't have. He watched at they danced, as if waiting for something to happen. He sat, still, his sleeping blanket on his lap, another wrapped around his neck. Several thuds were heard outside the door, but his curiousity didn't arise yet. Then, a tiny slimmer of light made it through the darkness and then.

BAM!

Light almost blinded him, when the door opened.

"Oh, you're already up?" a surprised voice asked, the ceiling light turning on momentarily after. The shadows disappeared, revealing bare white walls. The trainer, a lady, held a flashlight and a couple of sticks in her hand. Unlike the rest of the trainers, this one had always brought candy for the girl, almost skipping the daily routine of being forced to get some. Almost. And maybe she thought she could wake him up with the sound of the door, but he had already heard her walking down the stairs.

"Yes, I'm already up. I'm always up at six," he retorted casually, holding up six fingers, rather strangely.

"Well, I got what you ask, so pleace be a darling today and actually follow instructions?" she begged, with a heavy emphasis on the last several words, tossing the sticks in his direction, which he immediately stuck into his mouth. This was his fourth trainer, the others disappearing without a word, probably because he was too much to handle. Of course, not everyone could run the entire length of the Scorpio base about six times, and successfully hiding in the many cupboards and closets on the way.

The girl swiftly got out of bed, throwing the blanket onto the floor and proceeded to put her regular clothes on. Boring clothes, he thought.

"I'm not a darling," he said quietly, pulling on a shirt, and stared at the trainer. The trainer didn't dare rush him; this one of the seven would deliberately waste half the day running off and doing his own things. She only held the door open, and he slipped on his shoes just as quickly. Without warning, he dashed out the door, to no shock of the trainer, stopping right outside the door as the trainer looked frantically around. Unfortunately for her, 3544 was abnormally short, and the trainer almost missed her. Fortunately for her, he had stopped and decided to cruise casually to the cafeteria.

He really only decided to make her panic. That was all.

---

He continued to stare at the food before him. It was the same food. Every. Single. DAY. Of course, he got bored and kind of threw a tantrum now and then, and not listen but for once he felt like swallowing the goop. Tasteless, lumpy, very thin milky films of soup, he personally called it the forbidden "s" word, but never said it aloud, and will probably never.

3544 stabbed at glop with his spoon, and raised it to chin level. He didn't have to eat this... With a call and several runs around the base, poke here, poke there, they could've gotten him whatever he wanted. Not to mention he could sneak inside the kitchen and get whatever he wanted to eat. His dream-nightmare is what scared him after all.

He felt starved, a nightmare. Cold, starved, hurt, and even more hungry. He outwardly shivered. Normally, he'd never had these kind of dreams; they had always been fluffy clouds, happy fields, and a ton of candy. Not dark, injured or hungry... Or so he hadn't remembered. The girl never remembered his dreams, but for once he did. He didn't feel like complaining this day. He just didn't.

Instead, he blankly stared at the glop, and decided to poke a pocky stick into it and nibbled slowly. Biscuit, chocolate and whatever the glop was, all together... it was good. Quickly, he chowed down the rest of the bowl, wasting several boxes of pocky and honey sticks along the way and even licked the bowl clean. He'd never complain about this food again (yes, he had a strange taste). Wiping his lips with a sleeve, he turned to stare at the others on the table. He had never talked to them a lot, feeling very quite superior to them for no whatsoever reason.

"Eh, you're going to eat that?" he asked, feeling rather uneasy with his abnormally high voice, pointing his spoon at them.

[So, yeah, Remiel's a girl in outward appearance, so to as not to confuse you. Strange, he likes the goop.]

-Lit

 

[Eeveeking929]

7304 looked at 3544 with a look of surprise. In the past (7?) years, he had grown fast, but no one he had ever met at this place had ever actually liked the cr.ap. 7304 had never actually payed attenton to his teammates, but now, for some unknown reason, he started taking in a little bit more. Probably just interest instilled by the girl's question. He began subtly memorizing the others appearance and demeanor, even as he answered the question.
"Yeah, I am. Waitm, what am I saying? Here you go." The boy pushed his food in front of 3544, and turned his attention to the others. "Newsflash. If you don't want to eat this garbage, hand it over to 3544. I think she actually likes the stuff."

 

[RaZoR LeAf]

6491 swallowed his last spoonful of the disgusting glop that was classed as sustenance. Nutritious it might have been, but aside from that, there was nothing beneficial about it. He looked down at the bowl that was still half full, and shrugged. Pushing it across the table towards one of his fellow 'team mates' he suppressed a look of confusion. The one who was now eating his old food was an odd one. 3544 wasn't like the others. She was as normal as the others were, when you compared everyone to each other. But there was something about her that just didn't seem right. The way she acted, the way she spoke. 6491 didn't know what, but he was trained to pick up on these sorts of things. He dismissed it, he had to work with these people, worrying about things like that was a waste of time.

"Where's your food?" a trainer asked leaning right in close and breathing stinking smoky breath into 6491's face.

"I wasn't hungry." He replied.

"I bet. Well since you're so content to give away you can do the same for the rest of the day." The man smiled, showing off rotten yellow teeth in his disturbing grin "You hear that? Your buddy hear has just given up his food for the day to feed you lot. "

The guy started laughing and walked off. 6491 blinked it off and rolled his eyes slightly. To be honest, it wasn't the first time he'd faced that threat. The first few times it had been difficult, but as soon as he caught the eye of some members of the staff he could usually get them to sneak some food to him during the night. He thought about the rest of the day in order to take his mind off the rumbling in his stomach. Hopefully it wasn't another screening of a film they insisted on showing him in between finding a new trainer. There was only so many times one person can watch 'The Graduate' before getting tired of it.

 

[Cenodoxus]

The boy quickly assessed his options. Eating the malformed piece of thing that almost seemed to be pulsing as it rested on his plate was one of the choices, and the other was giving it to the girl who apparently seemed to swallow everything that was given.

Strangely enough, he opted to eat the thing. After seeing what had happened to the other boy, it seemed like the best course of action was to simply stay out of trouble.

He thought of what to do. Today it felt like a different day, and he was desperate to keep such feeling alive. It just couldn´t return to being a boring, normalized routine of existence, a cycle of meaningless training time. Suddenly, the boy remembered about the game that him and Two had invented before everyone else sat at the table. They could start off with that. Everyone else had different and fun names, and he could shorten them all. Seven-three-zero-four, Seven-one-eight-nine, Seven-five-four-four, Six-four-nine--

"Ah, so you´re all here!" A female trainer, weathered and aged by Scorpio´s brutality but resigned to her life with a lipsticked face and a muriatic acid personality, retorted. Suddenly she took it back. "Oh, wait. One of you brats is missing. Well, they´ll probably get her here soon enough." Her eyes, cold and inspecting despite her apparently amiable disposition, scanned the current situation regarding food.

"You", she barked, directly aimed toward the girl who was downing plate after plate of the enigma porridge with ease. Instructors had a way of speaking directly to you, even if you were in a massive crowd. It was one of their most unnerving features.

"Stop eating like that. Clean your mouth. Soon you´ll be bouncing to your battle missions, you bottomless monster of a barrel." Her unusual insult was met by silence from the others. Some continued eating, and some, like the young man that sat at the table third, had resigned to their decision.

Walking a few rounds around their table and the ones around theirs, she suddenly seemed to become excited--as if a bright plume of vibrant color had been ignited in a black-and-white film. With a much more hurried and enthusiastic gait, she made her way to the boy, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder and gripping it with delight.

"You´re all so adorable! Seriously, I´ve just realized, this motley crue of yours is the only thing that keeps me going. Why, didn´t you know the little one here had an accident earlier?" She mocked with a twisted, crimson-tinted smile as she spoke to the rest of them. "Cleaning crew´s still working on it. Peeing like that, it´s like you´re Scorpio´s little baby!" To accentuate her point, she pinched the boy´s cheek, whose stare had at this point descended gloomily to the floor.

"Oh, I´m serious. You´re just such an original bunch." At this point her speech was marked by obvious and stinging sarcasm, and she let go of the boy.

"Now eat, no games. Your training begins in ten minutes." And with that she walked off, to keep an eye on the rest of the installment, glad to have stepped on someone´s else´s day in order to raise hers up.

Silence once again fell all across the table, which by now wasn´t uncommon. 3527 locked his eyes to his food, which he began to eat more quickly for the sake of doing something other than looking at the rest. His voice came out choked, and barely audible.

"...Well, I had a bad dream."

OOC :: I do wonder where Envy has gone off to. I´ll send her another PM and ask her to post within this weekend. Otherwise, we´ll find a replacement.

 

[Literate]

As always, the girl met this insult with a roll of his eyes; honestly, this trainer could be so rude, he'd like to give her a kick in the face sometime. What with all her high up and mightiness, thinking she ran the place... 3544 settled with licking off his spoon, sticking the rounded end in his mouth, with a blank gazing stare covering up his thoughts underneath. Should he go and just well give her something to eat as well? Like, maybe her own dang blood? He spluttered, almost choking suddenly, inwardly laughing at the thought. It was either that or he ate his disgusting breakfast too fast, and he was thinking early morning thoughts.

However, soon the conversation soon changed to the accident that apparently had something to do with 3527, the second youngest of the seven. He raised an brow, quite a bit confused to as what it meant. Millions of suggestions poured into his mind, as the gears of his brain worked. Then, it clicked. 'Oh, that.' Of course, if it was him he wouldn't have made such a fool of himself, but honestly, you had to have some pity for 3527. Not everyday does a trainer asides your own picks on you, really. He replaced the spoon with a peppermint stick, staring at the other five that had gathered around the table.

And then, training. Oh jeez, training. While it was a part of his life hammered into him daily that he couldn't really choose whether or not he had training. Just whether or not he felt up to it. Today, he'd be alright, he guessed. He didn't feel like being disobedient to them, not today at least. But in ten miinutes? That was too short to be considered a breakfast; he had only just gotten here.

Silence was upon them, the thickness of it almost masking the pitiful sound of an excuse. He thought back to the morning, where he had stayed up all night, afraid of falling asleep to recieve the feeling of the nightmare again. He cleared the offered plates, sort of daintily, wary of the harsh trainer's words and recieving a similar treatment from someone else. No, he really didn't feel like being disobedient this morning. Who knew dreams could affect thinking so much.

"Same here," he mumbled softly.

-Lit

 

[Endarkened_Gardevoir]

Two had long since given up and calmly shoved its food over to 3544, even as another trainer hit it in the back of the head for doing so. Two narrowed its eyes at the female trainer, angry. The trainer shouldn't have the right to taunt Seven that way. Almost all of the trainers were evil in its regard, but at the moment, Two hated that one the most.

"Shut up, b.itch." It muttered under its breath, to receive another blow that bounced its head off the table. It had forgotten that there was another trainer behind it still. Today also seemed to be Two's day to have its head smacked into everything. Then again, every day was 'Smack the Freak' day. It didn't recall anything ever being different. It glared at the female trainer agin, then smirked.

"Not training time yet. We have ten more minutes." Time enough to finish up. It tilted its head at Seven's comment, then 3544's response. Two was fairly sure that 3544 was a bit similar to it, save it didn't obviously carry both male and female parts on it if it was declothed. It nodded.

"Had a similar dream. Not quite bad, til the end. Dreamed I was a monster that sat on people and smacked thier heads off. Then something came and attacked me. I didn't like it."

 

[Eeveeking929]

7304 put up with the insults himself everyday, but it was always annoying. So he couldn't help but sympathize with 3527. That kind of problem wasn't something that should be mocked. It's a real problem. Not to mention the fact that 3142 kept getting hit in the back of the head. The trainers were insane, sick, and total as.sholes. The young man just kicked back, relaxed and waited for ten minutes until training began.

(Sorry it's not longer. I feel kind of bad today.)