Played by: Near Name: Danael Riavela Age: 16 Appearance: Bio: His parents just divorced, and he was sent off to summer camp while the court decides who has custody of him. Personality: He's generally very cheery, and fools around a lot. He loves to have fun, and plays tricks on the other campers sometimes. But it's all in good fun. Specialty: He has feathered wings that he hides easily; no one knows about them, not even his parents. Preview post: “Jayn is totally awesome *0*” Danael stepped inside his stuffy cabin, looking around. Much to his delight, it didn't seem like he was sharing this cabin with anyone else yet. With this in mind, he locked the door behind him and pulled off his creased, unwashed shirt, stretching out his wings behind him. He examined the soft feathers closely for a brief moment afterward, still surprised as to their appearance. The bottom part of every one of the feathers was a beautiful sky blue, while the tips faded to a snowy white. Even more unusual had been their sudden appearance about a week before, just after his parents had alerted him that he was to be sent off to the camp. It would have been a mistake to assume the blunette had been born with the ability to fly (Although he had mastered the basics pretty quickly), and he'd been just as surprised as anyone who would have been watching him in the cabin to wake up to the wings he'd still not gotten quite used to. He stepped over to the bed in the far corner, the one next to the largest window in the cabin. After taking a look underneath, just to double-check that no other camper had chosen it yet, and seeing that it was empty, the shirtless boy set his bag on the bed, sitting next to it and unzipping it. He needed a shower more than anything, but for now, until all of the introductions had been made, he could deal with just a change of clothes. He selected a blue long sleeved shirt and black cargo pants, taking out a thick brown fleece hoodie to help hide his wings. After putting his dirty clothes away under his bed, he flipped his hood onto his head and headed outside.
BLARG. You lost the game >:
Postness :'D
Famous stood next to his twin, his arm straight ahead of him, and his finger pointed at the Director. "He does. He does, you can see it on his face!" He spoke, electricity cackling around him, as Legend stared in horror. Elevir had been looking out into the sparse crowd of people inching away from the 'mad king' when the younger child had made his statement. She turned to face the Director once again, waiting for his reaction. However, that was when she realized she was more interested in what Larenzo would do next...
A small, childish smile flashed across the young girl's face at Larenzo's actions, disappearing as quickly as it came, hopefully before anyone noticed. However, it wasn't like her actions mattered anymore. She was probably just a killer in everyone else's eyes anyway... just like the man standing in front of her. They already had something in common; how nice.
"So does that mean it was you... who killed all of those people?" Elevir responded, remembering the situation she'd been forced into earlier and letting a stay glance to the wound still present in Larenzo's side. She wondered if it still hurt him, even if it was a different person in the manic's body.
"You're not Larz," she spoke, turning to face him. "you can't be." Much to her horror, he was Larz; at least, he appeared to be. But he really couldn't. Larz was gone. She killed him. So who was this man standing in front of her?
Elevir froze as well, feeling the fingers through her hair. Her hand raced to her pocket on instinct; she had forgotten that her knife still lay across he room, far out of anyone's reach. "Wh... Who are you?" she asked, looking over her shoulder anxiously without turning around to face the voice's owner. The strength in her voice was unable to mask the shaky fear underneath.
She paused for a few seconds, then nodded briefly. "Yes... I'm sure." she spoke.
wat xD I'm not playing kthx. Just thought I'd take a look.
OOC:// SURPRISE -shot- When the heat of the fire came in contact with Elevir's bare feet, she didn't even twitch, too focused on the task she'd been given; one that would be finished soon. The manic's life seemed to have left him, but Elevir kept a hold on his throat for a few more sickening moments, just to be sure. She stood once again, letting Larz's neck out of her grasp and his head hit the cold, hard floor. Her eyes were a silver void as she turned back to face the Director, her head leaning slightly to one side. "What... now?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper to avoid the shaky tone the words would have taken if she had spoken them aloud.
u has a viziter mesaj nao
OOC:// No one's playing either Luxord or Zexion right now. Sorry I haven't been posting lately. I've been sort of depressed; it'd come out satirical if I tried.
Him? Elevir thought. The scary voice? If only the Manic's thoughts weren't so hard to decipher. This couldn't just be a manic's hallucination... could it?
A guard grabbed Eva away from Elevir by her head and tail. "Yeah, Larz..." she whispered, tears burning her eyes, "you're right. It does make me... bad." She wasn't going about this correctly if she could still feel the man's forced breaths underneath her fingers, so she realized. Her fingers, once again, closed around the manic's throat, and he struggled to breathe, once again. Her whole body was trembling now, rejecting what she was doing to the point where she could almost feel herself going insane, even without the Manic's help. However, she could still feel the pained breaths of Larz between her fingers. She still couldn't kill the other Gift. Was she truly not strong enough? After going this far, could she really fail that easily? No, it couldn't be.... She'd die if she wasn't able to do this... they all would. Her hands constricted the man's airway just a little more, just enough so that, regardless of whether he could breath or not, he'd run out of air eventually. As she did this, she couldn't help but think to herself... What a horrible way... to make me kill someone....
When she felt the Manic's chin against her fingers, her grip loosened, and she questioned her motives again. But if she didn't kill him, he would just rot in a straitjacket for all of eternity... he'd suffer a fate worse than what she was doing to him. "I don't think you're bad, Larz," she said quietly, so only he could hear her. Her grasp tightened around his neck again, and she struggled to keep it that way. Every fiber of her body told her not to do this, that it was a horrible thing she was doing... but that couldn't be, because her hands were still wrapped around the man's neck, strangling his last breath from him...
"It's about time," Xelidan spoke, "That one of us has lacked the naivety to believe that our goal can be achieved peacefully..." His hand rested against his chin as he sketched out a plan in his mind. "Ideally, it would be the easier, along with the safer course of action to take them out one at a time... though that won't work for long. It is likely that they'd catch on, and start travelling alone less often. "However," he continued, facing the Organization once again, "The fact still remains that they are far more powerful than us. It will take quite a while until we get to the point where we can actually challenge them." "A lot of training..." Xinamar spoke up once again. "And we still don't know what their weaknesses are." Xelidan agreed, only with a quick nod. "This meeting is dismissed. We don't have much time; I'd recommend to all of you that you start training as soon as possible.
As the girl stepped forward, the guards surrounding Larz stepped aside and pulled a struggling Eva out of the way, by her neck, like her sister. "Larz..." she whispered, now standing next to the man. She didn't know what to say to him... she couldn't say she was sorry anymore. It wouldn't mean anything; not to Larz, not to the Director, and especially not to the other Orphans watching in horror. No matter how sorry she was, it wasn't worth an apology. She looked back to the Director before she continued, almost as though to make sure he approved of what she was doing. That was the least of her worries, though, as she looked back to her suffering victim, and lowered herself to grasp a hold on his neck. Her hands were trembling, so she noticed, as she attempted to tighten her grip.
Fine, fine... =P
...Could you post in The Orphanage, please?
