[Aetherea] Absorbed Into Insanity [Peregrine]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Aetherea, Feb 24, 2014.

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  1. Her mission was to kill the heir of the Family; to kill the man who had seemingly attempted to murder his own kin, surly no mercy would be given.

    For generations, Tempest's family worked close with the Head Family serving as their body guard and secret assassin. Training her powers, mock fighting, and mentally preparing to take a life along with the courage to save one was the air the young assassin breathed, the wine she drank, and the bread she ate. Nothing was more important than the Head Family's safety, for they were what ran the secret organization that stretched from the East coast to the West coast, from the Northern most states to the furthest reaches of the Southern states. The power that coursed through their veins was truly something to grovel at. Telepathy, mild manipulation, and the ability to cause pain through the mind was what granted them power and what bestowed them glory and honor. The young assassin felt privileged to protect such a powerful family though throughout her life span of a quarter more than two decades, the glory of her family name rested within the arms of her three older brothers - that is until she received grand orders to assassinate the heir to the Family.

    Her first mission, the one that meant life or death not just for her but for the Family as well.

    Weeks passed since the young assassin accepted the proposal without a wavering heart; weeks since the house the Head Family resided in reached for the sky in a violent explosion. However, it had only been two days since Tempest had caught word of a mad man who had been checked into a small town's psych ward after running out in front of oncoming traffic and being mauled by vehicles. Two days since she had vigorously researched, forged an FBI badge as she posed as an agent and collected information. In that time span she had found a single, slim file with a few loose leafed paper explaining the accident and the reason for the patient to be checked into the ward. The information was sparse but the mentality of the patient was blatantly unstable. In neatly typed and crisp letters, the report read that the man was not nearly sane enough for a psychological evaluation, while other concerning yet curious notes were messily scribbled down in the margin of the report.

    Experience and greatness would never be gained without taking risks. It had been two days since the young assassin betrayed the orders that she had held so much pride in and honored greatly.

    The logical side of Tempest willed her to forget the strange mishap and attempted to convince her that there wasn't enough information in the file and that none of it was detailed enough to be solid evidence. However, her unruly curiosity and the unsettling feeling that stirred in the pit of her stomach wouldn't let the opportunity slide. She was an assassin, she had been training her whole life to become the best of the best and surpass her brothers in both skill and intuition, and though she lacked experience and expertise she wouldn't allow herself to be narrow minded so much as to allow simple logic to determine what kind of assassin she would be. Any information that made her hungry curiosity lash out so ravenously deserved action to be taken. The curiosity that had sprung from the scantly worded report had ended up with her standing in front of the ward with dark rings under her eyes and bags from the sleepless nights dedicated to both her research and endless forging that had gotten her the job at the mental institute so quickly.

    The mission was now her own; she was now alone.

    The golden sun kissed the gloomy grey skies as she made her way up to the heavens. She moved in a leisurely, graceful pursuit but made sure that her rays glimmered off the crimson, copper, and citrine colored leaves that whispered in the light breaths of autumn. Although the dead brown leaves neither glimmered nor whispered, they sang a hollow tune amongst each other in the brisk breeze as they danced around the base of the only shade of green in the field that otherwise reflected the colors of mid fall. English ivy laced the brick building that brought color to the lifelessness of the institution. Its life-draining fingers stretched across the building, reaching for the sun that had scared the pale moon away, though it took care to bite back on it's ruthless hunt for the sun as it made way for the number of windows that littered the brick body of the institution, framing the glass instead of stealing it away.

    Autumn once again breathed life into the small cove that was surrounded by trees yet bore a paved road from the large, swirling black fence at the tree line to the grand wooden doors of the psych ward. The trees above whispered louder, the dead leaves sang louder and dance wilder while the warmth escaped Tempest as a bone-chilling breeze sliced through her black jeans and the hunter green sweater that she wore in vain. Long black hair that had been tied into two neat braids waved effortlessly in the gushing wind as the heavy bangs that sat across her forehead became skewed. The tips of her ears and nose reddened as the air nipped at them, giving no mercy to the girl. Her cheeks became flushed as the mocha colored freckles hid in the shades of pink, while her milky skin tone, the parts that did not become tickled pink, took on a ghostly shade. Tempest shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, starting towards the grand doors.

    The doors swung open easily and an uncomfortable warmth washed over her chilled body. The warmth wasn't that of a cozy fireplace, but that of insanity rubbing against one another in a pitiful hope to create fire. It was the same warmth that had welcomed her two days prior when she hastily made a visitation appointment for one of her "good friends", and it would be the same in the days, weeks, maybe months, that followed the nursing job she had acquired through false documentation and false identification.

    "You must be Ms. Adair!" A jubilant voice rumbled in the silent buzz of the light fixtures overhead, "The new nurse! Oh, we are so excited to have you, I am sure you will just love it here."

    A painfully fake smile lit Tempest's face as her jade green eyes found the short, lanky man that was addressing her, "Yes, I am the new nurse as you claim, Tempest Adair." Her voice was coated in a thick layer of politeness that it sounded fake, but the man didn't seem to catch on, for his eyes held an expectant glint in them as he smiled broadly. Tempest cleared her throat and unknotted her eyebrows that seemed to have not been melted by the uncanny warmth the ward was emitting. The naive assassin found it harder for her to act the part of a normal human being than she initially though.

    Silence stretched between Tempest and her employer, he with an expectant gleam in his eyes and joyous smile and her with an utterly fake grimace and beads of sweat dotting her forehead. "I-if you wouldn't mind, I would very much like a tour around this superb psy--hospital, Mr...?"

    The man's face dropped into a miserable frown that portrayed his sorrow for being addressed without a name, which to Tempest, would have been better suited for a more dramatic situation. However, the man's gleeful smile was back and the young assassin winced at his capability to switch emotions so quickly, "Dr. Hyde is the name." He shot a quick glance at the clothing she was wearing as clicked his tongue in a mocking disapproval, "Now, these won't do," He said, gesturing at the casual clothing that cladded the young girl. "I will get you the general nurses uniform after we start the tour and then you can get right to work!" He let out a hearty laugh as if he made the funniest joke in the world.

    Tempest smiled and let out a forced chuckle as Dr. Hyde motioned the girl forward. With her vibrant green eyes trained on Dr. Hyde, she wondered if working in a psych ward too long would eventually make one go insane as well. The young assassin smiled secretly to herself as the doctor introduced her to many other nurses and doctors on the way to the East Wing of the facility. She nodded politely to each of the staff members and attempted to listen to Dr. Hyde but her eyes wandered to the bare white walls and the few pieces of fake shrubbery that sat timelessly in a pot against the walls, trying to bring life into the hospital.

    "Although this is a small town, the facility itself is quite large. You see, we don't just get mental patients from the town, we get them from the nearest cities or some get transferred from other regions of the nation and so on. There are a total of 160 rooms per wing and a total of 4 wings. The wing I am taking you into now is the South Eastern Wing where those who are the most sane reside. And by most sane, I mean those sane enough to be psychologically evaluated." Another hearty laugh, "Let me tell you, not many people who come here are sane enough to be evaluated. Each wing has a level. The South Eastern Wing you are in right now is for level one patients, the North Eastern Wing is for level two patients, the North Western Wing is for level three patients, and the South Western Wing is for level four patients. The South Western Wing is where you will be assigned. We ought to take advantage of an experienced nurse like you. I was quite blown away by your resume! To think that you'd..."

    As the two entered the wing, Tempest observed her surroundings diligently, as she did for the next three wings. She took care to listen to Dr. Hyde, but she also allowed herself to seal glances in each of the rooms looking for Nicholas, the heir to the Family. "Now, the last wing I we will enter is the South West Wing. This wing holds the most unstable people you will find in this hospital, as I had said previously. They often times result to violent outbursts and are not sane enough for a psychological evaluation. Some of them end up in the padded rooms while others end up in straight jackets. There are times when we put foam blocks over their hands from keeping them from harming themselves but you should be pretty safe from behind the door - but of course, you know that already! Man, have I been going on non-stop? You are very skilled and experienced so I don't have to tell you what would be best, but usually these men are sedated, on medication, or are securely restrained, so there shouldn't be any need to worry. Have I told you that -- Actually, never mind that, since we are in this wing, I will so you our latest addition to the hospital. He came in two days ago after running into a stream of traffic. He has been admitted as a patient and his sanity has become more unruly since his arrival."

    Tempest started through the glass of the door. She had visited the same dark skinned man two days ago when following the lead, hoping that it was Nicholas who was behind the door, not this stranger. His hair was dark brown, but Nicholas's was a light brown. His eyes were a grey while Nicholas's were brown. His jaw line was more boxy, but Nicholas had an oblong face shape. And most of all, Nicholas's skin was white while the mad man she now stared at behind the door held a darker complexion. Both Dr. Hyde and Tempest toured all four wings of the facility yet not once did she catch a glance of Nicholas. Tempest's stubbornness that she had decided was her intuition knew that Nicholas was in this psych ward. He was here, she just knew it, and she would kill him and bear her family name all by herself. She would show the Head Family that she was a worthy assassin and prove herself to everyone who doubted her, everyone who laughed at the thought of a girl becoming a deadly assassin.

    "Hello, Patient 640! How are you doing today?" Dr. Hyde had approached the door and spoke through the glass. His voice held the same booming jubilant tone no matter who he spoke to. "We have a new nurse and she will be taking care of you for now on! She is the most skilled nurse out of all of them so she will be working in this wing. Her name is Ms. Adair, " He turned to look at Tempest, "Come nurse, show the patient your face so he knows who will be looking after him." Dr. Hyde turned back to the patient after Tempest approached as was instructed. Although her green eyes blazed with resentment toward the patient who had given her false hopes, she wore that strikingly fake smile that no one caught onto.
     
    #1 Aetherea, Feb 24, 2014
    Last edited: Feb 24, 2014
  2. And the world burned around him.

    It crashed into the ground, burrowing deep into the muck, and from it came the darkness. It roiled like magma, seeping and invasive, coating everything it touched. It coated him, as well, rolling over his limp form, and when it had finished with that it sank into him, burrowed in through his mouth and nose and eyes and every pore in his body, deeper and deeper inside of his very being, until the abyss that surrounded was inside of him as well. It left him empty, infinite, black.

    He rejected it, tried to push it back out of himself, but it felt like trying to tear away his own heart. It clung to him with sticky tendrils, and every chunk that he ripped away would be picked back up by the black strands that roiled around him, and every time it left him weeping, screaming in pain, desperate, as though he was killing his best friend. As though he was killing himself. Yet still he tried. He had to try. It was wrong, this thing inside of him. It should not exist. And it had been his duty to destroy it. Now, destroying it might very well destroy himself.

    Would he welcome that? This was his life, and he couldn’t say that he hated it. In fact, despite all the challenges he had faced, he loved the thought of every moment dearly. Perhaps not the reality of every moment, but the thought, the most basic idea, of losing one moment to which he had a right, be that moment valuable or not, was horrendous.

    Yet the darkness inside of him dictated that he should not exist, simply should not be. But he rejected that nothingness, rejected the void that tried to consume him. He filled it with memories, the sweet taste of childhood, honing his skills, even the bitter memories of those strange moments when his parents no longer seemed to love him, no longer seemed to look at him as though he was their child. But the void was infinite, and as many memories as he poured into it, of warmth and the feeling of shelter that came from being curled up in the blankets of his bed, of the pure living scent of spring as the gardens that filled his yard burst into joyous life, of the pain of injury and the pleasure of being loved, they all got reduced to nothing, to the tiniest pinpricks of light in an infinite darkness.

    And he was left alone, empty, infinite.

    He could not even have told himself where he was at this point. The world seemed to warp and bend, twisting around until he was staring at the back and the front of his own head, until he was looking down at the buildings and was strolling along the grains of wood within the trees. He wanted to clamp his hands over his eyes, but when he tried that it seemed to make no difference. The only thing that changed was that he could now feel the exact shape and texture of his eyes, pressing into the palms of his hands.

    He knew he was still moving. The feel of his own body was one of the only things that kept him stable, kept him upright and traveling. The flames burned around him still, but he knew they were his own, personal psychosis. He wanted to smash them, to make them vanish, and vanish with that the pain of those final moments with his family. But fear kept him paralyzed, kept him from acting, because there was no guarantee that even a touch of anger wouldn’t have the same disastrous consequences, wouldn’t make the flames leap higher and bring the world crashing down around him.

    He saw the car, recognised its presence flying towards him. But he lost the significance, could no longer determine what exactly that meant. And the echoing sound of the horn only blended together into all the other noise. He felt it collide with his body, could feel himself flying forwards. It was with a little bit of sympathy that he caught the thoughts of the person who had hit him. The woman certainly didn’t need this.

    Wasn’t there supposed to be some form of cease when the body broke? Wasn’t there supposed to be a drifting away, a blanking out? But the world stayed firmly in place around him. Even though he knew his eyes were closed, knew that he couldn’t have moved his body even if he wanted to, there was no rest. He would have given anything to be able to rest.

    But all he could be was awake, alone, empty.




    They kept him in the hospital for three days, desperately trying to find a way to manage him. He could feel their frustration; it ripped into him like a scalpel and left him bare and bleeding, but he could not do anything to stop it. They could never understand how much they pressed on him, even when they left him alone. They blended together with the twisting world, warped together into a many headed monster that leered at him from every side.

    And the outside world tempted him. It beckoned, gleaming, tried to lure him away. Lure him in. When he finally answered the call, slipped out of his own little cell right through the cracks in the locked door, he very nearly didn’t go back. He hated that place, with its constant hum of the far-too-bright lights that flickered overhead, sending spears that ripped into every corner, into every surface, with the people who didn’t know how to leave him alone, with the fading heartbeats of the wounded that he knew he could aid, but could never truly heal. At least out there he was alone with his darkness. Here its tentacles stretched towards everyone, wanting to envelop them as well, and it was only through sheer force of will that he kept it all within himself, even as he teetered, moments from spilling over.

    One of the staff who was on break saw him walking away, and guessed from the state of his clothes that he was not supposed to be leaving. The nurse walked towards him, clearly intending to stop him, but he stopped her before she could even get close. One moment she was conscious, the next she was crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

    It took a few more steps before he too was floored by the reality of what he had just done. The darkness did not feel, it did not care, it simply was, something powerful, empty, and infinite. He had told himself that he was nothing like it, that the fact that it was inside of him did not make it a part of him. Yet here he was, flicking people aside with no more concern than he would pay to a grain of sand. His body crumpled, falling to the ground only a few feet away from the nurse. But his mind didn’t stop. The darkness would not let him rest.

    They decided later that he had attacked her, knocked her unconscious, even though they could find no signs of trauma. It was as though her brain had simply ceased to work for a couple of seconds, but that was not a valid option by the laws of their science. They decided he was dangerous, and clearly mentally unstable. They kept everyone as far away from him as possible while waiting for clearance to transfer him to a nearby facility, which was experienced in handling dangerous psychotics. He was fine with that. He wanted them all to stay away. If they stayed far away, perhaps he would not hurt them. They never were able to diagnose them. After all, he never spoke a word. But it would be the facility’s duty to handle him now.




    The facility was warm and soft, especially compared to the cold, sterile whiteness of the hospital. He settled into the back corner of his new room and set about learning how to dismiss everything around him from his attention. The doctors were the easiest. He had been familiar with the inner workings of a human mind since early childhood, and he had already gone through all of the necessary trials of learning how to control that ability. And so he ignored them, to their ever increasing frustration. They could not help him if he wouldn’t talk to him, they would say. They would try and find any sort of stimulus that might drag him out of his shell. But he had far more important matters to attend to than their desires.

    He wished that they would leave him alone, like the others at the hospital had. Because sometimes he lashed out without thinking, wishing they would simply leave him alone. Once, he accidentally exploded the lamp in the ceiling, and a sharp sliver of glass sliced open the cheek of the nurse who was trying to get him to eat. Another time, one of the doctors kept walking into the walls in his room, completely convinced that the spot was the door out of the room. The man was given five days leave, and told to rest. He didn’t want to hurt and confuse them. It would be better if they left him alone. Maybe then, in those moments when the repressed darkness finally surged out of his control and splattered all over the walls, no one would get hurt.




    He recognised her the moment she walked into the building. She may not have known it, but he had watched her, hidden, when he was a child. His parents had told him that the head of the Family must always know everyone who was in it, especially those who had the most faith placed in them, and those who were the most deadly. The feel of her talent was familiar as well, and he waited patiently for her to come to him.

    She did just that, watching im with confused, narrow eyes before leaving the building again. He felt a stab of resentment at her absence. She was an assassin, she had a job to do. He did not want to lose his life, but the darkness had to be destroyed. And it was certainly inside of him, with no way to get rid of it.

    Had the darknes mutated him so much that she could no longer even recognise him? Whenever he had looked into the mirror he had seen the face of a stranger, yet he had never believed in that reality. His own world was far too twisted for him to accept anything like that without some sort of outside validation.

    She came back two days later, dressed as one of the nurses. His eyes flickered open as she drew close, and he peered at the small space in the door that allowed his physical eyes to see her. The door didn’t hide her from him, not really. But he wanted to see her face one more time, to confirm the fact that she really had come for him.

    He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want that complete and final cease. The concept of her scared him, but the darkness, the void inside of him terrified him even more. He offered her a small smile, one of the first traces of emotions or interaction he had given since arriving in the facility.
     
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