Amnesia

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I

Insanity

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Original poster
His head was killing him. He had been hit by--something. He couldn't remember at all, though. The blonde haired, green eyed boy was terribly confused. He blinked his eyes open carefully, looking up into the faces of his team. What was happening? Why were they here? Why was he lying down on the ground?
"Where am I? Guys--what's going on?" Jamie groaned, sitting up quickly. His temporary amnesia had caused him to forget the fact that he, the thief, had walked away from his team five days ago after pissing all of them off. Though, apparently they had found him.
He rubbed his head from where it was aching, bringing it back to find a small amount of blood on his fingers. What had happened?

Cursing is fine
Romance is fine
Any literacy
Drama works
Take this any way you want--I like seeing how other people take the prompts I write.
Feel free to let your character of drama of their own.
Character ages 17+
The team started a year ago.
 
Itching trigger fingers sink ships.

Damn did it itch, a deep and loathsome fury swept over him as he observed through a focal funnel of glass. Jamie's head was painted in his crosshairs, discolored by the low light coating of the scope, and Harp watched from under the chitinous stealth exoskeleton from his vertical perch. He was stuck there, by the fibrous anchor extensions that ran along the joints of the suit. He wanted to shoot, to put a bullet in the thief's head, to bury an embarrassment, but the motion might draw the attention of the kid's team. It was a risk he couldn't afford, especially with what the bastard had hidden away. Besides, he'd kind of enjoyed the kid's sense of humor.

Harp shifted his legs with a muffled grunt of displeasure, the anchors making the movement stiff and uncomfortable; the scuttling of a nearly invisible drone. Through the scope, they all looked blue, and he watched them as they looked down at him, a sudden transmission came drifting into his ears, riddled with static. It was Jamie. "-what's going on?" was all that Harp heard, but it was enough to give him a bit of hope. Perhaps his employer wouldn't have both of them riddled with bullets before the day's end. That was...if the kid still had the brains to use his communicator.

"Jamie," Harp said, his baritone voice resonating in the encapsulated helmet, "you might want to stop playing dumb."

(OOC; Hope this is cool. ^_^)
 
Vannessa yawned and woke up. "Who's there?" She says that every morning for no apparent reason. No one even knows why.
 
((Yeah, that's fine xD.))

"What?" Jamie pulled the ear piece out of his ear, even more confused than before. How had that gotten there in the first place? His head hurt. He tried to focus; to think. He winced, his head hurt. He couldn't remember. . . anything. That was killing him. He sucked in a breath, rubbing his forehead. What had happened?

He had. . . done something; something bad. But what?

No.

No way; he couldn't have. He had said he wouldn't but--

What was it? And for who? He hadn't wanted to do it; no. He had to. He had to do it for the one person that actually took care of him when he was a kid. He couldn't say no. But then--why was he here? Where was it?
 
Patience is the only virtue in a world of secrets.

Harp rolled his eyes as the boy pulled out the earpiece. He wouldn't yell. No way in hell. He, instead, deigned it wise to move closer, detaching from his concrete post, sliding down the coarse wall with a muffled thud. The streets were empty, and he wasn't too far out. He might be able to make it in time, to scatter and confuse them, to figure out where Jamie had hidden it. He moved through the silent streets, taking his time, checking for threats with each step, and formulated his plan. He didn't know if Jamie had really been successful, or if the team would recognize him as an immediate threat. The thought of death edged Harp towards caution and he dropped low, taking a position near the gathered team; listening carefully to the communication device that Jamie had removed.
 
Vanessa appears infront of Harp with a smile. If she's smiling you know she's bored and is going to bother you.
 
Andon was a bit confused. Perhaps the little shite was trying to avoid the accumulated retribution he was about to face? Acting as if he had completely forgotten. But if he were lying why would he be in the middle of nowhere? Unless he was that good of a liar. Andon didn't remember Jamie ever telling a believable lie, although Andon never believed anyone.

"Ah boy you gone and did in your brains? Where is it? Harp can't be far behind, and I don't want him having it any more than you."

Andon rubbed his smooth white chin as the right corner of his mouth twitched. He had no idea what had gotten into Harp lately but as the days went on he gave Andon a bad gut feeling. Maybe he should leave Jamie in this state for Harp. Leave him to face whatever Harp had in mind. Andon didn't really care what Harp did to Jamie. But... Damn he did need to find it just as bad as Harp.

"Nevermind boy, get up. We'ed best be off." Another twitch of the mouth as if to finalize the statement.
 
Her lips set in a thin line, her tongue thick with unanswered questions. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest, her shoulders leaning against the wall. She narrowed her eyes as Andon spoke. His words hanging in an air of bitter silence, leaving an unwelcoming after-taste.

Suren cleared her throat, levelling Andon with a silent stare, that meant non other then Calm the fuck down.

She needed to think. She needed to think. She needed----fuck! She closed her eyes in anger, pressing a hand to her forehead. Andon wanted it as much as any of us. Harp was already on the patrol and if they stayed silent long enough he would get it...

---but. But. She opened her eyes and glanced over at Jamie. Jamie wasn't there. There was something...something wrong with him.

She clenched her hands.

We need answers. We need them now. And there wasn't enough time to be concerned. There wasn't enough time to act on her feelings. She gave a glance to Andon, before letting a sigh slip from her lips. She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear and pushed off the wall. Hazel eyes stared down at Jamie, before she squat down beside him.

Her eyes examined him. The blood on his forehead. The lost expression on his face. She pressed her lips together, her throat growing dry. She had the urge to reach over and smack him. What was wrong with him? Didn't he understand how worried they were? Didn't he know how worried she was? If this didn't turn out right...if he didn't have it then...----She swallowed her rising emotions. She clenched her eyes shut then opened them again, fitting a blank stare across her features.

"Jamie...." She said simply. "...Where is it?"
 
"Where's what?" Jamie blinked, trying to figure out what she was talking about, "What are you two talking about? How long I was out? Last thing I remember was going on that mission and stealing the journal. Have you guys read it, yet? Is that why we're here? What time is it? Wait. . . what day is is? How long was I out for? Why. . . how. . . what?"
 
Harp eyed the girl critically. He'd seen her before and knew that she had something to do with all of this, though her exact level of involvement had been left simply to his conjecture. "You're wasting my time. Move or be moved aside." It was a half a threat and unconvincing even to his own ears, but if it didn't deter her from making a nuisance of herself; the assassin would use this brief moment of silence to assess the situation. There were several agents surrounding his target and at the moment they had a distinct and certain advantage. They weren't far ahead and would likely be moving soon. He cursed under his breath, the heavy syllable contained within his helmet, then turned his attention back to Vanessa.

"Seems like you're not too worried about all of this. Maybe you know something that I don't, eh?"
 
She was right. There was something wrong with him. Why couldn't he remember anything? Suren stared at him sharply, her eyes falling to the place of blood on his forehead. She felt an annoyance mix with her anxious feelings and fear. She held her hand up to pause his questions and reached into her pocket, pulling out a cloth handkerchief. She placed it in his hand and directed him to hold it onto his forehead. She stared at him once again, as if deciding if he was truly telling the truth. Was he? She had no further knowledge of his where about. For all they knew, he could have switched sides. He could be playing the memory loss game to sneak his way into our group and kill us individually. Harp could have brain washed him, taken his weaknesses and thrown it against him forcing him to betray us. He could have----

No. Jamie wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. He just wouldn't, right?

She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her pants. No. This was not the time for doubt. They needed as much answers as they could find and then if Jamie lost the notebook, they would have to begin their search again. It was a step back, but it was necessary. They would take whatever measures it cost to find it. If Jamie switched sides...then they would kill him. No, She would kill him. If that's what was needed to be done.

"You were gone two days." She said, meeting his eyes. "We found you last night and you've been sleeping till this morning. It's 8:10." She looked at him sharply. Hazel eyes leaning down to search his for any misconceptions. "You need to concentrate. We do not have the journal. After you left we lost communication with you. Do you remember anything that happened? Anything at all?"
 
What seemed to be a young male would wake up. He would rubb his head as he would stand he would then look around as he would just see darkness. He would then feel around the room for a lightswitch he would soon find it as he would flip it on a bright light would fill the room as he would cover his eyes from the momentarily blinding light " Ughhh where am i? "
 
Gwen had never seen Jamie looking so distraught. Ever since she had joined his team he seemed like the one who had it together, the one who was always sure of himself. She looked at him in fond memory. Gwen was the newest member, having only been recruited 2 weeks prior. She was trying to pull of a job in the main square and ended up with an empty wallet instead of a full one. She recalled how when she eagerly looked into the wallet, only to discover it was empty, she noticed a boy had been watching her from a bench across the square. She immediately turned and ran, knowing that if she got caught it was back to her mother's house. She ran for blocks and finally stopped to catch her breath. The boy had stepped out from the shadows and cornered her.

It was the only moment Gwen had really felt proud in her life. Jaime noticed her and wanted her skills. He thought she had potential and now she was part of a team. Only Jaimie had left. He had just walked out, pissed at them all and hadn't been seen for 5 days. Now he was back with this girl. This girl who had just barged in, not even introducing herself. Gwen stared from the corner. She watched as Jaimie talked with her and tried to determine what must have happened. She was not really friendly with anyone else, other than Jaime and now she was feeling more alone than when she was on the streets by herself.
 
Creed , formerly known as Jerry, stood atop the roof of a condemned building looking over the city. From this height, all the people below looked like insignificant ants, but even ants can bite. Creed leaned against the railing. Holding out a small and rather thick book that was barely taller than his hands, he began to smile. It was a rather unsettling smile. The small book was in deplorable condition and what was left of its skin seemed to be made out of leather, but it also had patches of fur on it, as if I child took glue and stuck clumps of animal fur onto it. It was unusual, and remotely disturbing to look at. There were no words on the cover, only a symbol made out of cheap metal, which by the way was already rusting. Even so, he smiled none the less, because this book... no this journal, yes, it would change everything, even if he couldn't open it. Just having it in his possession gave him the upper hand, and he planned to make them pay, yes, Jamie and all his little friends would pay, dearly. Though, why just them, why not share this madness with everyone, the whole city even. Oh, the madness, it had already consumed Creed, he had lost his sanity years ago, the one's he once vowed to protect had become his enemies. There was no longer room for the word brother or friends, no longer room to care. So many secrets and all in one journal. He frowned. Obtaining this journal wasn't an easy task. " I should have just killed him when I had the chance", Creed mumbled to himself annoyed. "But I suppose what's done is done, I'll just kill him next time," he said licking his lips. He backed away from the rail retrieved a cloth from his jacket, and wrapped it around the book. "I guess it's about time I give this to her, she is quite impatient," and with that being said he left.
 
Andon had just about seen enough.

He turned away from the others and looked down. He had many bags, packs and pockets strapped to his torso and upper legs. The overlapping of tightened straps almost made his black undershirt impossible to see. The pack he was looking for was a leather one, the strap on the left side of his waist and hanging around the opposite thigh. Andon reached in and felt around for his tool for situations like this. Having grabbed the black cloth sac from his leather pack, Andon reached his left arm into an pouch hanging around his ribcage. From there he pulled a curved bat just shorter than his forearm.

Andon turned back towards Jamie. "Right boy. We're leaving now."

A look towards Suren, oh she'll hate this. A twitch at the right corner of his mouth gave off Andon's intentions if the club and cloth sac hadn't. "Ma'am, we're off."

Andon swung the club at Jamie's head with the intent of leaving him unconscious.
 
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