Fandom Divergent: Faction Before Blood // RP Thread

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless​

Leah held her head high as she marched past him, with all the straight-backed dignity of a saint walking through flames, not cutting Ghost so much as a passing glance. Well, at least her reproach for him was slightly more subtle than Randi’s public demonstration. Knowing that he had only himself to blame, Ghost repressed a weary sigh and followed her to the testing room. He didn’t slam the door behind him, but the motion had the illusion of being louder than it really was, since the silence between the room’s two inhabitants was so complete. Nerves crowded in his throat as he looked at Leah. She didn’t return his gaze, and Ghost wondered if hearts really could break and if his was breaking now. “I know we have to talk,” he said softly, fighting the urge to look away, “but in the interests of your assessment, I think it would be best for you to take it now, before your attention is diverted.” Leah said or did nothing to indicate her agreement or objection, so Ghost busied himself prepping her needle. “I am going to touch you now,” he warned awkwardly, seeing that Leah’s gaze was still focused on the gleaming white tile between her feet.
Ridiculously, he half-expected her to lunge like something out of a horror movie when he approached, to ball up his shirtfront in one fist and beat at him with the other, shaking him until the breath was forced from his lungs and his senses were disordered. But Leah did no such thing, and as Ghost inserted the needle, he tried not to linger on the warm, silky smoothness of her skin, or the intimate caress of her neck, which didn’t feel unfamiliar from the position that Randi had caught them in last night. Ghost stepped back the instant that the dregs from the plunger filtered into Leah’s body. Her rigid posture eased into a graceful laze against her chair as the medicine took hold, her eyes slipping shut with a profound heaviness. An ebony tendril of hair swung forward from Leah’s bowed head and fell into her face, and Ghost ignored and frowned at the strange impulse telling him to tuck it behind her ear. Was that a normal relationship—not that he wanted one—thing, or was the lull getting to his head?
Speaking of, there had been an ulterior motive to his decision to postpone his chat with Leah until after her fear sim: Ghost’s head was throbbing like a drum that’d been pounded all night long, and in his current state, he didn’t trust himself not to say something that would escalate the tension between Leah and him. A ten-minute reprieve wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough time for him to mentally rehearse what he wanted to say. From the suspicious squint that Randi had given him after the conclusion of her test, Ghost was fairly certain that he hadn’t fooled her into thinking he was in his right mind. The monitor’s flashing lights were murder on his eyes, and with a little moan, he turned away from whatever horrors Leah was undergoing. That same unwelcome sense that had overcome him during Randi’s fear sim returned, and Ghost suddenly felt disgusted with himself once again for intruding on something so unspeakably personal to Leah. Especially when he’d already broken her trust so many times over. Trying desperately to tune out the simulated voices and sounds, Ghost paced the narrow width of the cagelike testing room, and while a fear of confinement had never made an appearance in his own fear landscape, he was starting to see the logic behind it.
While he waited for Leah to reawaken, horror for his stunt with the lull seeped into him for the first time. Ghost couldn’t remember the last time when he’d taken a dose out of his volition, to numb the ceaseless internal howling of his feelings, and not out of necessity. Not because he’d die without it. In other words, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d used lull as most people used it, people like Christian Parks, who used and abused the drug with the superficial purpose of recreation for which it’d been intended. Ghost was struck, not for the first time, by the oddity of it. How could something designed in the name of pleasure be the catalyst of so much pain? The way he’d surrendered control minutes ago to that drug sent a shock of terror through him, the way he’d downed it with reckless abandon for the consequences and barely kept himself from grubbing about on hands and knees for more. If Ghost couldn’t even control himself, how could he expect to control his world? His birthright to a wealthy life of entitlement and unquestioned authority might have expired upon the deaths and disgrace of his parents, but there was always more than one means to an end.
With a raspy jolt of breath, Leah sat bolt upright, her shaky muscles fighting to maintain such a posture when her reclining chair was angled backward. Ghost halted his pacing and spun to face her, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his clover-green trench coat. Dread perched on his shoulders like a leering harpy. Now that Leah’s simulation was over, there was nothing to protect Ghost from the condemnation he deserved. His heart began hammering in time with his aching head. As he waited for Leah’s gasping breaths to settle into their usual easy rhythm, he leaned against the back wall, equal parts affecting nonchalance and unsure that he could remain standing on his own two feet. Whichever his motive, Ghost kept his distance, not because he didn’t trust Leah, but because he didn’t trust himself, especially when last night had ended in a kiss despite his resolve not to. He refused to make the same mistake twice.
He was staring at nothing in particular, not wanting to provoke Leah into lashing out by fixating on her. When her breathing had calmed, and he felt the heat of her glare, Ghost began dreamily, “Do you remember that one time when we were kids, when we were playing at my parents’ house and exploring the vents? Because we’d gotten this dumbass idea that we might find gold treasure up in there, or a second liquor stash of my father’s. Which at that age, I guess they were one and the same.” Without having to look at her, Ghost sensed that the fondness he felt at recalling the memory was one-sided, so he got to the point. “Anyway, I’d gotten stuck in the vent almost as soon as I crawled up there, and I was so scared but trying hard not to show it. And even when I told you to go away to get help, you wouldn’t, because you knew how scared I was, and you wouldn’t leave me. So you stayed there, screaming your head off—deafening me in the process—until eventually one of the staff came along and helped me out of the vent.
“What I’m saying is”—and he was wearing his usual scowl when he met Leah’s eyes—“you’ve always been everything a friend could ever ask for. And instead of repaying that kindness, I’ve recently hurt you at every opportunity I’ve been given, be it out of ignorance or otherwise. I’ve hurt you so badly that you can’t even stand to look at me now, and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but for what it’s worth, I want you to know that I really am sorry. For…” For what, exactly? For leaving her to believe he’d died all those years ago? For insulting her after discovering that she’d been following him that night in Baneberry, or for trying to throw the blame of last night’s kiss on her when they’d been caught? Ghost faltered, trying to imagine the limitless possibilities of how to finish that sentence.
“For everything,” he decided. And suddenly the words felt like they were being reeled from him by a fishing hook. “But particularly for last night. I acted out of my own self-interest by telling Randi and Jaxom that you’d kissed me before I could react. It’d been a call of bad judgment on my part to only consider what I had to lose from that scenario and decide that it weighed more than your potential losses. Because I should have realized that, as a transfer initiate, you already have one strike against you, and if word gets out that you cheated your way through initiation, you won’t be given another shot.” Ghost paused. He’d always known he was no saint, but to hear the extent of his selfishness spelled out so literally, in his own voice, with the victim being his best friend, was almost too much for him to bear. A fist felt like it’d knotted itself in his throat, and when he spoke next, his voice was a choked rasp. “I am so sorry, that if the only way I can possibly rectify the situation is to resign from my job and never speak to you again, I will do it, if that’s what you want. However, out of concern for your placement in this faction, I would like to ask you to trust me one more time, if you think you can.”
Ghost was starting to feel like he had two distinct modes around Leah: obnoxious aggressor and apologetic fool, and they usually operated on a cause-and-effect basis. He’d apologized to her various times this week, but now he wanted to do something to prove it, because he had to. Because he’d betrayed her so many times over that his word alone wouldn’t suffice anymore. “The fact of the matter is… between yesterday’s and today’s scores on your simulations, you’re not doing so well. To be frank, your scores are less than mediocre. While I’m aware that you finished Phase One in fourth place—which is remarkable, for a transfer—Phase Two is weighted heavier in terms of your final score, and Phase Three heaviest of all. And it will only get harder from here.” Ghost scraped a hand through his hair, fully conscious that most of his pride had already been blown to smithereens. Nonetheless, it wasn’t too late for him to walk away with what little he had left, before he made a complete groveling oaf of himself. But if he did keep his promise to Leah and resign from his position as training instructor at her behest, only for Leah to flunk out of initiation in a few weeks from now, it’d all be for nothing.
Unsure whether he was brave or masochistic, Ghost put all his cards on the table. “What I’m proposing is, why don’t you let me try to redeem myself for my many faults by having you accompany me into my own fear landscape? And that way, you’ll get some first-hand experience with Phase Three of initiation, so you’ll know how to ace your own fear landscape when it’s time. You’ll be ahead of your competition.” Ghost heard a strange ringing in his ears in the wake of his offer. Not too long ago, he hadn’t trusted anyone to even touch him, and now he was considering the inconceivable. It was true that he’d graduated his own initiation at the top of his class, proving that he was more than competent in his fear landscape, but that didn’t make him any less insecure about what his fearscape contained. And having to reveal that to another person, friend or not, was excruciating. It felt as if the entire world had paused between inhale and exhale, waiting for Leah’s reply. And when she finally indicated her consent, Ghost didn’t know whether to feel relieved that he wouldn’t have to quit his job, or scared shitless that he was essentially handing her a weapon to torture him with for the rest of his life.
Too late now, he thought dismally. Now the question was when and how he and Leah would hold their illicit meeting, since the testing rooms were only supposed to be used during official training sessions, and their being used outside of that time frame might arouse unwanted attention. Not to mention the whole illegality of an instructor giving one initiate an uncouth advantage over her fellows. But that’s what best friends do for each other; instead of asking why you killed someone, a real friend offers to help hide the body. In a faction where Leah had no family, where strangers were rivals instead of acquaintances, if Ghost didn’t look out for her, no one would. And then an idea struck him. His attention suddenly withdrew, his eyes lost focus for an instant, and then snapped back to the moment with an extra charge of intensity. If they couldn’t use the testing rooms outside of training times… well, then, they wouldn’t. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Ghost said, and the excitement in his usually smooth, velvety voice was as jarring as a thunderclap.
“Tomorrow, training is going to be held in the arena from Phase One. The initiates will do some physical exercises as a reprieve from all the stress inflicted by the fear sims. Meanwhile, you, Leah, will have a dire family emergency that calls your attention elsewhere. Say, a certain idiot twin brother pissed off the wrong guy, who in turn taught him a lesson he’ll never forget.” His tone was dry with insinuation, recalling the incident at the Visiting Day party in which Alex’s attempt to humiliate Ghost had so deliciously backfired. And for once, Ghost’s severe scowl split into the beginnings of an impish smile. “At that same time, I shall fall violently ill and have to call out sick from work for the day. And then, while those fools are occupied in the arena, none the wiser as they do their push-ups and laps, you and I will meet up right here, where we’ll be honing your skills in preparation of the next phase. How does that sound?”
With their plans for tomorrow finalized, Leah departed from the testing room. Ghost followed her out with a spring in his step. The formation of tomorrow’s escapade had combined three of his favorite things: scheming, lying, and breaking rules as if they had never existed. In other words, he was immensely pleased with himself for having thought up something so crafty on the spot. But Ghost was always thinking several steps ahead, and he knew that even one of his improvised plots couldn’t compete with something he’d had adequate time to plan in advance. Like the gambit he was about to use to determine, for once and for all, if Blair Avalon really was Divergent. Between Randi and Leah, so far he’d really been striking out today, but all that was about to change. In a few minutes, it was very possible that he would have a new sliver of information at his disposal, a new piece on his chessboard. As he slunk toward the end of the hallway that adjoined the waiting room, Ghost disciplined his features into their usual impassive neutrality. He didn’t want to prematurely give away the fact that he had a trick up his sleeve for Blair. “Miss Avalon,” he called, smothering the note of delight that threatened to creep into his voice upon seeing that she hadn’t already been chosen by another instructor. “Your turn.”

 

[Nerdy.]

Charlotte "Charlie" Stark || 20 || Dauntless Medic || Dauntlessborn

The fear that Finn experienced was a curious one that Charlie again felt that shiver of discomfort flow upwards, causing her hair to stand on its end. Solitude, loneliness. That was indeed a fear that many had, although often without even realizing it, she wondered if Finn had known about this or not, and whether he already had a tactic for getting out of such panic and anxiety. She watched him intently, hoping, praying, that he would pass through normally, that she could hide this part of him that so many people were so determined to hate. She nibbled on her lip, though catching herself, she tried to stop, only to nibble on it again when she wasn't thinking about it. You can do it Finn.. She thought to herself, hoping her thoughts could help in any way, though she knew inwardly that they wouldn't. How would one bravely fight solitude and loneliness? Well.. She could imagine it would be by being absolutely fine with it, by conquering the fear and just relaxing into life alone. For to a Dauntless, being alone means that you are the one in power, right? She wouldn't know, the idea of being alone was both comforting and terrifying to her, she would hate to be alone as it meant she wouldn't be with the ones she loved, and she wondered if she would go crazy without them, however... she would rather be alone than be with Jeremy. Thankfully, that wasn't something that was going to happen.

Finn's simulation was finished very quickly, and Charlie was surprised when he sat up so quickly. So it was true that they just knew it was simulation, and that they could conquer it easily. She blinked, it was unnerving, yet not unpleasant, nor did she feel any awful animosity towards him, she was curious, she wondered how it worked from a medical point of view, maybe one day she'd ask Finn if she could take his blood, or study his mind a little... She was broken out of her train of thought with Finn's words erupting into her ears, she blinked a couple times more. Get a hold of yourself Charlie. She knew that she was too tired to be thinking and working properly today, that was what lack of sleep did to someone she supposed. "Did you do fine? Finn... your time is incredible." She breathed out, she frowned, thinking through the simulation that had occured, although it had been odd, not very dauntless yet very fast, she surmised that it was normal enough to pass. "I can tell you that your simulation today went normal enough for me to submit, it was just a... from a Dauntless point of view... not very brave way to finish. However... that may help you fly under the radar, so to speak." She smiled softly and led Finn to the door. "Don't worry about me, I'm happy to help you. Would you call Poppy in for me when you go out? Thank you Finn." She said as she let him leave, leaving the door open for Poppy when she was going to come in. Charlie set everything up, ready for another person. Poppy.

Interacting with: Finn Baratheon

Aubrey Amber Stark || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

The time it took for Finn to leave, and for Randi to come, was not very long. Randi sauntered into the group looking to all the world like a cat that had just gotten into the cream. Randi's words, although they were pleasant to hear, and Aubrey generally liked Randi as a person, she always found a niggling feeling when around her, and Finn. Finn and Randi had, for that matter, dated for a while, yet now they were not together. There was nothing wrong with that of course, Aubrey had dated Chris, Jackson and Julian, Chris being the closest of the three, however her relationship with Finn had always trumped her relationships with any of her boyfriends. For some reason she would choose and want to be with Finn more than anyone else, she assumed this was because of their childhood and continual best friendship. So why did Randi's presence make her jealous? She shivered when Randi put her arms around her, and laughed warmly. "Trust me I'm sure we will all want to once we've had our simulations, unlike someone we didn't all storm up to our instructors to get done first." She said, half hoping Randi would open up to what she had stormed up to Ghost for, however it didn't seem like she would, so Aubrey continued. "Yesterday I'm pretty sure I passed out from drinking, and although I love drinking, I am not looking forward to experiencing a hangover and a simulation." She laughed again, althoguh remembered that sometimes laughing hurt her head as it banged angrily inside her brain in a bad headache. She eyed Randi, "What did you have in mind?" She asked, raising one eyebrow curiously.

It was very out of the blue, and from Aubrey's perspective it had been merely a tiny amount of minutes before Finn was again walking back towards the group, she blinked. "Finn.. are you done?" She nudged Randi's arm off of her shoulder as she walked to Finn, who nodded, before telling Poppy that Charlie was waiting for her. Leaving it mostly being Aubrey, Randi and Finn together, although Chris, Blair, Leah and Thorn were nearby, yet Blair was numbishly quiet and Leah had gone off for her simulation with Ghost. Chris seemed to be conversing with Thorn, before he too was called off for sims. She looked back at Finn, trying to ignore the niggling sensation of Randi and Finn being together, though they weren't. Why are you so worried about that? You two are friends, not lovers, why should Randi make you feel jealous... She knew she couldn't ask Finn about Charlie yet, but she could pass the time. "Randi was just suggesting we go off and do something after sims. Got any ideas?" She asked her best friend, her blue eyes piercing his, inside them she probed for any hint about how Charlie was.

Interacting with: Randi Sanctuaryforall1 Finn Baratheon

Christian "Chris" Parks || 16 || Initiate ||Dauntlessborn

The conversation with Leah was fine, it was even pleasant, yet Chris was always slightly distracted by the slight ringing in his ears, and Blair's touch against his skin, which almost seemed to burn against his own. He shifted uncomfortably while listening to Leah, watching as she went to answer before Thorn stepped in, and Leah had to go for testing. He gave a small nod to Thorn, and waved to Leah as she left. "Meditation has never been a particular strong suit of mine." Cris answered, as he stroked Blair's shoulder softly, feeling her skin shiver. "Though, I can see how working with your hands might help, although I'm not particularly good with my hands, I like to use the punching bag to relieve the stress of the simulations, or anything, actually." Chris didn't know Thorn at all, he just knew that the boy was fairly kind and seemed very charismatic and charming. Before any more of a conversation could be had, Chris and Blair were both asked to go for sims, himself to Harper, her to Ghost. His grip tightened on her hand, as they stood up and he waved to Thorn in a goodbye, he felt her skin go cold when Ghost called her, and he felt his own blood boil. Before they separated towards their simulation rooms, he gently kissed her forehead and hugged her, moving towards Harpers after letting her go. He nodded to Harper as he got inside the room, and sat on the chair obediently. Now, with the amount of drugs and medication flowing through his body, he was anticipating some type of reaction to occur. "Harper, I should probably tell you that I occasionally have reactions when I am given the serum." He wasn't sure if she knew this or not, and her expression did not give it away, she simply nodded and administered the serum. Soon enough, his vision blackened and he was out.

---

Chris found himself walking through Blair's house, he was downstairs, and his body hurt. Not only did his head throb angrily, but his stomach churned and he worried he was going to throw up. He was trying to find the bathroom, however the house didn't look like it did usually, yet he did not pick up on this, assuming it was normally like this. As he walked through the house, a door slammed loudly, ringing in his ear like a bell, he jumped physically, his heart racing upwards at that sound, and his head banging even more. He swung around, looking for the door that had slammed... who the hell had slammed a door? He felt anger rise up within him, as well as an anxious fear of anticipation of another... BANG!. That time the sound came from behind him again, causing him to yell in surprise, swinging around to see Blair's parents popping all the balloons that were up in their living room. BANG! BANG! BANG! each balloon popped louder than the last, and Chris's heart rate continued to rise, finally spurring him to run up the stairs, his stomach still churning to the point of nearly throwing up. He ran into Blair's room, where Blair was with her cat, playing with it and... balloons... Chris's eyes bulged as the cat lunged at the balloon and POP it exploded and the sound rang through Chris's ears. "Blair stop doing that, you know I hate loud noises..." Chris actually groaned as he spoke, running forward to grab the cat, putting it on its bed, while he ran to move the balloons and clear the room. Blair huffed and went to go pick up her cat, Chris simply moved all the balloons out and gently shut the door, he sighed and turned around, watching as Blair pet her cat. "Look, I don't feel well and now I'm angry, I'm going to sleep." He announced, before climbing onto her bed and flopping onto the pillow, covering his ears so that any noise would be muffled. After a few deep breaths, his heart rate slowed down.

---

Chris awoke and with an incredible speed he grabbed the trashcan beside the chair and began to throw up, his stomach churning and his head throbbing. After emptying his stomach, or more, he felt shivers flow up his spine and he looked pale and disheveled, his hair unruly and his skin almost green. Although Charlie had tried to edit the serums to help him, what with Lull and whatever it was the doctors put in him to help him stay alive, he had reacted again to the serum. He watched as Harper silently passed him a water bottle, and he took it gratefully, opening it and downing it in one long series of gulps. His mouth tasted bitter and he needed to go for a run or sleep or soemthing. He shivered again, his body calming down and his breaths coming to him a bit better. What an odd fear, he thought, loud bangs. "Sorry... I was hoping it wouldn't be that bad." He said, obviously referring to the reaction. He hopped off of his chair and sauntered to the door. "May I go? I think I need to lie down."

Interacting with: Thorn Sanctuaryforall1 Blair WanderLust. Harper Baratheon

 

[Baratheon]

FINN DAY

Finn tried to be hopeful, but Charlie's slight gaze of disappointment made his stomach churn. He'd been very un-Divergent, but according to her words, very un-Dauntless as well. Could he ever get this right?

"I wish I could do it normally," He told her, voice defeated, "I just... I don't know what to do. It's not real and so I know I can manipulate it. Or just end it. But I'm not good enough at faking a 'brave' ending because it will just turn into however I want it to end."

He knew there was nothing Charlie could do about it, but Finn felt the need to vent a moment. He took a few deep breaths. Why must his life be so difficult? It was hard enough being an initiate for the hardest faction in the city, plus the younger brother of an instructor, plus a goofball and a fighter and a Divergent and a... the list went on. Finn wished he was just normal. However, as his thoughts raced on, the older girl's smile caught his eyes. He paused a moment, calming himself. After a few more moments, he returned the gesture. He would be alright. He had someone trustworthy, kind, and smart on his side. He would learn and get this figured out and be a Dauntless soldier. No one would know. "Thank you," He told her as she gently dismissed him, "I'll call her in."

Finn trekked out back into the open room. Heading further down the hall, Finn ran into a group of gathered initiates, talking amongst themselves, his eyes looking hurriedly for Poppy. "Hey, Poppy, you're next! Charlie wants you." He sidled up next to Aubrey, a little shaken still. It was weird. His simulation had been being alone, alone for a long time, and for forever. Yet here he stood, among his friends, not even an arms-length away from them. They were here. He was here. He was not alone. And for as long as he could keep it that way, he never would be. His light eyes flickered over to Aubrey. She seemed happy. He wondered what he would do without her. What if, during the Choosing Ceremony, she had gone somewhere else? Would he have made it this far? Would he have been farther, higher, better? Finn shook his head and lowered his gaze. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He was not alone.

Aubrey asked if he was done, tone surprised. He nodded, a flicker of fear in his heart. Did she suspect? Something was definitely on her mind, but she seemed to quickly work past it and move on. It couldn't be about his Divergency, so what had her bothered? Aubrey hastily mentioned that Randi wanted to do something exciting. Knowing her, it was either alcohol or blowing something up. Right now, he was down for either to get the weight off his mind. Finn offered a smile to the two girls; his best friends, just about, in the faction. "I'm down. What are we thinking? Because if it's blowing something up I want to change my outfit," He said cheerfully.

// Nerdy. Sanctuaryforall1 Wolfiee

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

Harper Day

Harper had called for Chris, but turned in surprise as Fable addressed her. The girl looked weary and a little disappointed, as if she didn't think she did well enough. Harper caught her in a scrutinizing gaze. "I'm supposed to record everything," She told the younger girl, "It's up to the other instructors if they take the time to read it or not. You don't have anything to worry about." Although her voice was assuring, Harper kept her previous thoughts in the back of her mind of what she had seen. Fable had had a lot going on in there. It wasn't her place to announce it to everyone; legally, though, she could not hide anything.

The girl's sudden statement on not being a victim, though, made her grin a little. She had fire. Harper could almost say she felt the same way. During her own initiation, with Ghost and Drex, she had plenty of her own issues. She refused to play victim ever again. She nodded at Fable and the girl wandered on her way.

Chris appeared a little bit later. He'd always been quieter and respectful around her, and Harper could appreciate that. He went ahead and let her know about his reactions. Such things were on their sheets for each initiate, but she went ahead and gave him a "Thanks" anyways.

Harper sat down and watched as he faced his sim. It was odd, how many of the initiates' fear sims included other initiates or family. They were quite the traumatized, misfit, dependent group on each other. She narrowed her eyes as balloons appeared. He wasn't scared of those, right? Her question was answered when the balloons began popping. Chris became very angry and laid down to sleep, covering his head. Harper was surprised at his speed through the sim, but his anger was a normal reaction. He took steps to combat the discomfort and ended up in a safe situation. A very well-done maneuver through the sim; she would have to note that.

Within a few moments, he was awake again and- oh, geez. Gross. Harper made a face as he threw up and went to quickly grab him a cold towel and a water bottle. Thankfully those had been provided earlier.

"Take it easy," She told him, handing him the bottle. She waited silently as he got ahold of himself, face ashen and breaths uneasy. "You did good. You are welcome to go, but maybe find someone to walk with you to wherever you're going." Although it was phrased as a suggestion, it came out more like a demand. Harper wasn't wanting to deal with unconscious teens in the hallway again. She opened the door for him, nodding as he passed. "Thorn?"

// Nerdy. Sanctuaryforall1

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

 

[MWMASkairipa]

~She was powerful, not because she wasn't scared, but because she went on so strongly, despite the fear~
~Atticus~
Bella Quinn | 16 | Transfer Initiate | Amity
Bella watched the other redhead approach them, specifically Dante, and she took that as her cue to leave. She appreciated Dante's attempt to make her feel better. At the very least, he'd made her smile, even just slightly. That was a bigger accomplishment than he realized. She hadn't really smiled since she got here. Except when she was around Maverick; his smiles were contagious, but he didn't seem all that interested in her anymore. Not since last night. She felt horrible that she'd brushed him off like that. She hadn't meant to, she just... panicked, like she always did. She hadn't meant to come off so harsh like that, not when he had gone through something similar to her. She needed to make amends, fix it. She appreciated how much he cared, his company provided a feeling of safety that she otherwise lacked. If only she had the courage to speak up and tell him.

As the small redhead ventured back inside, she folded her arms over her stomach, chewing her bottom lip as her feet brought her wherever her mind guided. She was lost in thought, thinking of many things, events, a time in her life when things were better. When she was a child, long ago, innocent, a smile as bright as the sun on her lips, her spirit was free. Now she was a shell of that girl. She never showered when everyone else did. She did not want anyone to see her scars. When she did, she did so at the times when no one else would be in the barracks. Either at night, and take a cold shower without a light, or else hope to god that nobody would walk in after simulations. Lost in this train of thought, she failed to even notice the steam coming from the showers, or the pile of clothes that would indicate someone else's presence.

A soft, inaudible sigh left the young redhead's lips as she pulled her long-sleeve over her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Now in her sports bra, rough scars could be seen scattered over her person. The focus of them were on her back and shoulders. Anyone else would wear these like badges of honor, fought for like a soldier earns a medal. For Bella, she only saw shame, weakness, helplessness. She couldn't stop what had happened to her. She was small, pretty, with an attractive, petite body. That's all her father saw. He never loved her for the woman she was inside. He only saw a toy to play with and exploit. He was a monster. How did one destroy a monster, without becoming one themselves? Bella wished she could answer that question, among the dozen others that plagued her mind day in and day out. Who was she, what was her purpose, how did she get past this, all questions that she feared would forever remain unanswered.

Delicate fingers brushed over a patch of rough skin along her collarbone, a frown tugging at her soft lips. She remembered how she got this one. Her father had come home angry, the poor girl had gotten startled by his sudden appearance in the kitchen. A glass had shattered, a rod had been drawn... she'd needed surgery to repair the damage. Now what was left behind was a jagged scar that was nearly as long as her left collarbone. She had suffered much, Charlie also understood. She thought the redhead was brave, so why was it so hard for Bella to believe that herself? What did Maverick think? Would he think the same if she told him the gritty details of her home life in her previous faction? Another quiet sigh slipped out of her mouth as she turned around, only for her sapphire eyes to fix on the other, previously unnoticed, occupant.

It took not but a few seconds for the small girl to process the scene, and panic set in to grab her shirt and quickly tug it back over her head, covering up her scars once again. Her lightly freckled cheeks flushed a deep red as she averted her sapphire gaze and fumbled for words. His name... what was his name? She'd seen him around, tall and imposing, but then, most people were compared to the Amity transfer. She looked up at the other initiate, forcing her eyes to remain fixed on his. "I-I'm sorry... I-I didn't realize anyone else was in here..." her voice was like that of a mouse in terms of volume. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and her eyes now fixed on her shoes, her red hair providing some shelter from the embarrassment that burned on her cheeks.

//Interactions: Night paralyzed ​

 

[paralyzed]

Night Scott | Abnegation-born, Dauntless initiate.

Interactions: Bella/ MWMASkairipa

The first warm shower of his life seemed to clear his head of the terror he had experienced during his simulation. His mind now possessed with thoughts of his life in Dauntless, he began comparing it to his former life. There he was contained, here he was free. Simple as that. He was Dauntless now but couldn’t help missing parts of his time in Abnegation. It was the community, the people he missed the most. His family… No matter how strict they were they still cared about him. They are gone now, Dauntless is his new family, but he felt estranged from the members of Dauntless. To be estranged though would mean he would have to know them first, which he didn’t. That was it, he missed having friends. This was a competition though so he would have to be persistent in this, show them he wasn’t just trying to find a way to stick a knife in their back. But one question remained, who would he try to befriend first.

After drying off with his towel, he wrapped it around himself just in case someone else had decided to take a shower after their own simulation. How long had he been showering, he pondered, how many other initiates had to face their own monsters in the meantime. As he stepped out of his previous accommodation, his eyes came across the small redhead. She was quite pretty and Night knew he had seen her around before. Bella was it? She had probably come here hoping to get a shower in before the other initiates were done. If that was so, he was probably in her way. Good thing he was done. She seemed awkward, well it was an awkward situation. When she looked into his eyes and told him that she didn’t realize that anyone else was here, it confirmed his speculation that she wanted to be alone but all he could do was stare back at those eyes.

When she broke eye contact with him he was brought back to the present. “Hey, Bella is it?, that’s alright I was just leaving.” He shuffled past her and towards the dorms to get a fresh set of clothing. What would he do after changing, oh yeah he remembered, he was going to try and befriend… Damn, that was a perfect situation he was just in, no matter how awkward. No, it still can be, even if she doesn’t want to be my friend it's worth a try. He quickly changed into a black t-shirt and jeans and walked back towards the entrance towards the showers. Hopefully, she had waited to hear him leave before showering. “Hey, again. Can I ask you something?” he said before counting to ten and then entering the room.

Night leaned against the nearest wall, looked her in the eyes. “Here’s the thing, and it’s completely fine if you don’t, but, would you wanna be my friend.” He waited a few seconds for a response before continuing. “It’s just, When I was in Abnegation, I thought Dauntless was going to be the biggest joyride of my life. That when I joined it, my life would just keep getting better, more exciting. Parts of it are, but parts of it make me miss my old faction. They feel dull and meaningless.” He paused to catch his breath. “What I’m trying to say is, I feel as if having friends would make my time in dauntless perfect if not the best it could be.” He cracked a smile, “So what do you say, wanna take a chance on me and see if I’m good enough to be your friend?" he tried his best to sound genuine, because he was. “Oh yeah, in case you didn’t know, I’m Night,” he put his hand out towards her. Whether his hand fell back down against his side having been shaken by hers or not was up to Bella.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Playful

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Poppy, Finn, Aubrey, Blair

Aubrey’s comment about Randi’s little show with Ghost earlier earned the girl a slightly amused smirk from the platinum blonde at her side. “What can I say,” She sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically, “I’ve always been eager to get myself alone with a guy.” She pointed out. While she knew that that was the furthest thing from the truth about what had occurred between Ghost and her, she knew that the others would hopefully take the joke as a sign that anything that happened between herself and the instructor would stay behind closed doors. She might be bold with how she speaks to those around her, and she might not always have a filter, but Randi was not a snitch and what went on between herself and Ghost would stay between them, at least as far as she was concerned and until she had reason to act differently.

“Don’t worry, I can wait. I would hate to rob you all of your greatest fears.” Randi assured them despite the fact that if it were up to her, she would take them away right now so they didn’t need to see the darkest parts of their minds. Yes, it was part of Dauntless initiation but that didn’t mean she enjoyed seeing her friends shaken to their core in the way she was all too familiar with.

Looking from Finn, to Poppy, to Aubrey, and finally, to Blair an excited smile tugged at what had been a smirk on Randi’s lips. “As much as I enjoy arson, I had something a bit different in mind.” She informed Finn as she reached out and ruffled his hair like she had ever since they first met. “Who’s down for getting some tattoos?” She asked the group. “With a bit of arson to follow?” She added and left it up to them to figure out if she was joking or not.

Interacting with Blair WanderLust. Poppy Wolfiee Finn Baratheon Aubrey Nerdy.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Tired

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Dante and Bella

Fable didn’t notice the quick movement of the girl covering herself due to the fact that she was so focused on the familiar face of Dante. After the experience, she had just endured she wanted to be close to someone she trusted, and out of everyone here, Dante was the closest person she had to that sort of figure. They might not have years of history and friendship built up over time but in Fable’s eyes that was a good thing since there weren’t many people from her past in Abnegation that she would want to still have any form of a relationship within her new life among the Dauntless. Dante was perfect because he was new yet trustworthy and so far they had managed to form an unbreakable bond. Deep down Fable knew that realistically that could change at any minute yet still she knew she needed someone to lean into when things were hard and she wasn’t as afraid as she knew she should be when it came to placing that trust in the boy before her. He had done nothing to wrong her and he had had her back thus far, just as she had had his back in return, that was a bond that Fable believed would hold firmer than most.

As she reached the duo Fable took a moment to look into Dante’s eyes. She could tell she had a million questions for her and to be honest she didn’t know how she would be able to answer them if they were asked. It made her grateful that the other redhead was around because it meant that she was less likely to have to explain why her fear simulation involved her father skinning her alive with a whip. Still, she knew that if Dante were to grill her for answers she would tell him at least part of what happened, but would she be able to tell him who held the whip? Would she want him to know that she had been weak like that before? No. She didn’t want to ruin herself in his eyes. She didn’t want him to think of her as weak even if it was just in the past and not here in the present. She couldn’t allow herself to be seen as weak, even if it were in the eyes of a friend.

Giving the boy a tired smile Fable leaned into him slightly and sighed comfortably from the warmth that seeped into her from his body. The sensation made a light show of red and gold appear before her as she felt the warmth and began to relax a bit. “Good, I’m glad I wasn’t interrupting.” She hummed and twisted her head, which was still leaning against him so that she could see the girl who was hiding behind her hair. Mint and crystal eyes scanned the girl as Fable could easily tell that she had definitely walked in on something. “My recommendation would be to just focus on what you want to do after you are done, think of what comes after, not what comes first.” She sighed. “Or maybe just take some time and scream at the top of your lungs? I mean that might be fun?” The flame-haired girl suggested as she looked from Dante to Bella.

Interacting with Dante jrink Bella MWMASkairipa

code by Stardust Galaxy

Thorn

Mood: Uhhhhh

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Harper

The conversation had pretty much died as Leah and Chris were pulled away to do their simulations. As time ticked by Thorn returned to working on the little project he carried in his pocket. His fingers worked nimbly as they danced from branch to branch, his eye focused on the wires and seeing the tree that they would become. It was easy to lose track of time once he became hyper-focused on his task and so when Harper’s voice called out his name Thorn thought he was just hearing things until he turned his head and could see where the instructor had been standing in his blind spot. “Coming.” He replied and got to his feet, carefully tucking the wire tree into his pocket to continue working on later.

Walking past several other initiates Thorn entered the testing room and gave Harper a nod. “I hope you are doing well.” He greeted politely as he made his way over to the testing area. Taking a seat, the young man watched Harper, his head turning a bit more than others might in order to keep her in his sights. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the instructor, he simply wanted to be aware of all that was going on around him if he could help it. He watched as she set up the screens and lifted the needle to his flesh. The moment it pierced his skin he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, not bothering to wait and watch her push the serum into his bloodstream.

A gentle breeze was the first thing that caught his attention as he began to grow aware of his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of the forest with his fellow initiates slinking through the bushes and trees beside him. Ahead he could see Harper, Mav, and Ghost relaying signals to the initiates which Thorn recognized from his life growing up in Dauntless as well as the initiate training. It was clear that the group was in the middle of running some sort of drill, at least that is what Thorn thought before noticing the loaded guns each of them was carrying, including himself. The weapon felt wrong in his hands as he always believed it would feel. He had no desire to hold this machine let alone use it, but that is what he signed up for when he chose to stay in Dauntless rather than got to Amity where his heart and mind truly belonged.

A sudden rustling above the group caught Thorn’s attention and caused him to glance upward into the branches of the trees. Above Ghost, Thorn saw two or three grey creatures with puffy tails sniffing about. For an instant Thorn smiled and was tempted even to chuckle at the cute wiggle and sniffing the squirrels were doing but that all faded the moment he noticed the red stains on their pelts, mostly around their mouths and feet. “Ghost.” Thorn whispered, his words barely a breath.

It seemed the whisper was just enough to clue Ghost in on the situation because only heartbeats later the dark-haired instructor was glancing up into the trees above him which caused Thorn to glance as well. The two or three squirrels that had been on the branches had turned into countless fluffy gray bodies all stained with blood in the heartbeat Thorn had looked away. Carefully Ghost and the other instructors motioned for the initiates to raise their weapons but upon seeing the slightest movement an especially twitchy squirrel at the front of the swarm let out a high-pitched squeak and suddenly waves of grey and red fur began racing down from the trees.

Thorn had no idea what was happening, his heart was beating out of his chest and the world seemed to fall into slow motion for a heartbeat as he watched a bundle of screeching and squeaking squirrels fall onto Ghost and Harper. The instructors fired their weapons in response but the bullets did nothing to thin the swarm that consumed them. In an instant Thorn could hear their cries of pain and terror as the blood thirty rodents began tearing at their flesh, biting into their bones, digging holes into their eyes, mouths, and rib cage. It was horrific and happened so quickly that within mere seconds the two instructors at the head of the group were dead, mostly devoured on the forest floor, with the swarm racing towards the rest of the group.

Mav and Charlie began yelling orders at the initiates and everyone around Thorn was firing at the wave of gray fur that was surging towards them. Thorn watched as Mav tripped and Poppy and Bella surged forward to help him up only to fall victim to the mass of squirrels that overtook them like a tsunami. From all sides, the creatures came. They dropped from the trees onto Chris, Blair, and Jax. Finn, Fabel, and Aubrey were dragged beneath a surge of tiny claws and teeth. Randi, Dante, Leah, and Night tried to blast the squirrels away from their fallen friends but only ended up being dragged into the carnage themselves. Every direction Thorn turned he saw his friends and fellow initiates being torn apart. Each time the young man would race towards them but be too late to save them until finally, he was having to run for his own life. The gun in his hand was still unused since he had seen how little it did to keep back the bloodthirsty horde of rodents. Fear charged through his body as Thorn tried to come up with a method of escape. It was clear that climbing a tree was out of the question, there was no water to jump into, no shelter to hide in. He was running out of time and he knew it.

A sudden movement caught Thorn’s eye as he ran, the back of his legs bleeding from the tiny claws and teeth that were trying to take him down. Through the trees, Thorn saw Charlie running for her life and trying to fire her gun but the weapon wasn’t working. The sight of the young woman terrified and trying to fight back drove a knife into Thorn’s heart. He knew he could keep running and let her fend for herself but that was never really an option in Thorn’s mind.

Aware of the weapon in his hand once more Thorn raised the gun in the air and fired. “OVER HERE!” He shouted as the loud bursting drew the attention of the squirrels that were on Charlie’s tail. Firing again as he continued running this time the bullets whizzed past the squirrel as he tried to turn their attention fully on him. “I’M OVER HERE!” He shouted again as she fired.

Suddenly the swarm that had been after Charlie swerved and collided with the group that was after him. The added numbers combined with the fact that his distraction had slowed him down caused fear to once again fill his heart and mind as his legs were overtaken by several squirrels jumping onto him and tearing into the muscles. Thorn fell to the ground with a thud and instantly felt knife-like claws and teeth tearing into his flesh as he was swarmed by the furry mass of rodents. Before the creatures covered his vision though the young man was able to spot a dark figure racing away into the distance as Charlie managed to escape.

As he screamed out in pain and anguish as the squirrels burrowed into him and tore him apart Thorn felt a wave of peace within his mind. Charlie had gotten away and through the pain and agony Thorn did his best to focus on that rather than on the end of his life. It was hell, it was torture unlike any other, he was being eaten alive and even though he tried to fight back he couldn’t but he couldn’t stop it at this point. Giving in to the pain and his fate Thorn screamed a blood gurgling cry one final time before his heart gave out and everything when dark.

Chocolate brown eyes fluttered open as Thorn returned to the realm of reality. Looking around he found Harper’s face sitting next to him as he sat up. Not quite sure what to say the initiate ducked his head slightly and avoided her gaze. “Sorry, you had to see that.” He apologized as he realized that she likely just had to watch herself be devoured by squirrels among other things for however long he was under.

Interacting with Harper Baratheon

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Nerdy.]

Charlotte "Charlie" Stark || 20 || Dauntless Medic || Dauntlessborn

Although Poppy's fear was unpleasant, to Charlie it was more interesting to watch than the others that had appeared to her this day. Most of them had struck certain chords in her own life that made her understand, and although storms were somewhat scary, Charlie found them to be beautiful and dazzling, entrancing, enchanting and almost romantic. Therefore she couldn't help but feel that Poppy's fear simulation was more of a break for her out of the others. Poppy's ending was not particularly brave, nor was it unusual however, Charlie herself was unsure if she would have done it any other way, or even what the "dauntless" way of getting over that fear would be, probably to walk through a storm unwavered, she'd imagine. She smiled, offering Poppy a waterbottle as she exited the simulation, and let her get her breath. "You're free to go now, Poppy." Charlie said to the girl, moving so that she could get out without Charlie being in the way. She didn't know Poppy too well, one of Aubrey and Finn's friends, so she had little to say. As she walked around the room, she decided to check if anyone else was ready for their simulations, she'd done four people already, though granted, Bella and Finn's were very fast, and so she wasn't too surprised when she walked out to see that Aubrey had not yet gone in for her testing. She sighed, would Aubrey want her to administer her simulation today? Probably not, however she didn't want Aubrey to be waiting forever. Charlie took a deep breath and smiled, waving Aubrey over with one hand. "Hey, you haven't gone yet? Well I don't want you to miss out hanging with your friends, why don't we do it now." She said, trying to sound happy, although she knew Aubrey wouldn't be happy either way. Aubrey seemed unsure, and glanced back at her friends, then at the door which Maverick was behind, before sighing dramatically and agreeing to go with Charlie. Charlie knew there was nothing personal in that sigh, or lack of motivation, this was a private and very sensitive thing that people got to watch. She remembered in her own past, that she was terrified of being tested, she knew that if someone saw her fear about her father that it could be hard to explain. Thankfully they took it to mean she was afraid of any large and scary looking man, rather than Jeremy in particular, a blessing.

Aubrey followed Charlie into the room and quickly got into the chair. She was strangely quiet, her chattering nature seemed to be put on the side for some reason. Charlie decided against conversation as well, thinking it might make her more uncomfortable, and therefore she just put the serum into her neck, and sat to the side to watch, hoping that Aubrey's simulation would not be too personal. Though, she also hoped that being sisters, Aubrey wouldn't mind her seeing.

----
(After Aubrey's sims, which are below)

Charlie sighed as she watched Aubrey race out of her chair, smashing into the wall and falling unceremoniously onto the ground. She bit her lip, knowing that what she had just watched on Aubrey's fear sims was terribly private and not for everyone's eyes. Especially after she recalled hearing about how Julian had almost taken Aubrey without her consent. She opened her mouth, hoping to give her words of compassion. What she received before she could even try were snappy words of denial, yet, she knew that her sister was just embarrassed, and trying to be strong. She had to admit, that what Aubrey had done was probably the most "Aubrey" thing she could think of. Charlie just nodded, deciding to shut up and let her sister deal with it in the way she knew how to. She let her out of the room and watched as she ran back to her friends. Real friends. That was good.
Charlie began to tidy up, and when she was done she exited the room, wondering what she would do now that the simulations were over today, maybe she would try and catch up with Ghost, perhaps she would try and talk with Caspian, or maybe she would spend the rest of the day alone? Charlie wouldn't be surprised if it were the last one on the list, that was often how a day went if Ghost wasn't up to hanging out. She longingly looked at his door, still closed, and turned away, deciding to at least walk towards the infirmary of all places.

Interacting with: open! She is on her way to the infirmary.

Aubrey Amber Stark || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Aubrey laughed and chatted with her friends quite happily, and at the mention of tattoos the blonde's head perked up, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I'm keen! I love getting tattoos, I might even get another piercing... Something, anything to get our minds off of... this.." Her words ended somewhat short as her eyes caught onto Poppy's coming back from her testing, and then Charlie exiting the room. Charlie seemed hesitant to do anything, but then waved Aubrey over. Aubrey jogged over quickly, but already she was apprehensive. She gave a quick squeeze to Finn's hand before she ran over however, and winked at Randi as if to say "i'll be back soon". Charlie asked her if she'd gone, and Aubrey shook her head, hoping that Charlie wouldn't ask... There she did... Aubrey looked around at her friends, she really did want to hang out with them and didn't want them to be waiting for ages... yet.. she looked at Maverick's door, he hadn't come out, and although she had relaly wanted to be with him today, it didn't seem likely today. SHe sighed outwardly, knowing that was rude but unable to stop herself, and nodded to Charlie, following her sister into the room. She shot one last look back at Finn, before closing the door.
She didn't talk, her mouth dry in anticipation. Charlie was also unsually quiet, but Aubrey was grateful for that. Soon enough, she gave her the serum, and Aubrey felt the cool liquid flow into...

---

She jolted awake, yet her body did not move, eyes blinking and chest heaving for breath, Aubrey found herself in her dormitory bed, room dim, blankets over her, and the noises of people sleeping beside her. She groaned softly, trying to roll over in order to get more comfortable, however, her body did not respond. She froze - or at least mentally - and realised how odd that was, why couldn't she move? Immediately her body began to distress, heart pumping quickly, breath catching in her throat uncomfortably and her skin feeling like bugs crawled all over it. She tried again to roll, then to sit up, then to kick, then to do anything! But to no avail, her body lay unmoving on the top bed of the bunk. Where's Finn? He can help me... Why do I need help? She thought to herself as she willed herself to yell, yet her voice came out as merely a whisper. "Finn.." She meekly called, hoping her bestfriend who slept underneath her would hear her call for help. Yet nothing stirred. Alarms and banging began to sound in her head, as her body alerted her to the fact that she was helpless, stuck. Was she tied down? No... her body was not restricted, yet it was as if she were... paralyzed. That thought sent a shiver down her spine, and Aubrey began to hyperventilate, as she tried and tried again to move, to do anything, even before long her voice failed to speak out and she was helpless to the darkness swooping down around her. That was... until she heard a movement. Hope! Joy! She tried to yell out, in order to bring this person to her. But...
Her mind may very well have vomited as the face of Julian climbed onto the bed. Aubrey's eyes bulged and bile rose in her throat as he grinned at her, his face illuminated by a small light that shone into the dorm. "J.. J... Julian..." Her voice puny and quiet, he began to laugh, his voice deep and resonating through the room, it was a wonder he wasn't waking anyone up. He straddled her, and she could feel the weight of his body above her abdomen. Her heart thumped in her chest as she recalled how much he had tried to use her before. Go away. Go away please. Finn... Finn please save me.. Her thoughts were not helpful as Julian leaned closer to her, leaning into her ear and his breath tickled her yet she could not move, not even a sliver, he smiled.. "You're mine to have now. Mine, and his." Aubrey almost went white as a ghost as Bastian's head appeared on the side of her bed as well, and she wished to scream yet again her voice failed her. No... not two of them. Although she had not had much interaction with the tall Candor boy, he was scary, and he was Julian's friend. She tried to move as hard as she could, yet the only thing that happened was a small moan escaped her lips, and Julian's laugh, now mixed with Bastian's, roared in her ears. Bastian's arms snaked out, unusually long, and looped under her, as he lifted her off the bed. She could feel herself begin to break inside, what were they going to do? To her?! Julian followed beside the tall Candor boy, both of them laughing at Aubrey's inability to move, as she simply lay frozen in Bastian's arms. Heart thumping and body frozen cold out of fear, Aubreys mind raced for someway to save herself. Finn wasn't going to help anymore, he was back at the dorm. Charlie would be at home with mother. Maverick? Maybe he could save her, but it looked like she would have to save herself. But she couldn't. She was a failure. She had failed. Aubrey began to cry, or try to, yet her body didn't even allow that. She simply lay in Bastian's arms rigidly, as they carried her to a dark room. Dear gosh... not this again. Not this room. Not with Julian and Bastian. She blinked, and finally did the only thing she had the ability to do. Biting down on her tongue, as hard as she could, Aubrey felt blood rush into her mouth, yet she didn't stop, biting through her tongue she felt the blood pour out until, opening her mouth, blood began to pour out of her mouth and onto herself, therefore pouring onto Bastian. Seeing this, he dropped her, and Aubrey hit the ground, her head smashing into it painfully, her tongue feeling like an absolute wreck. Bastian and Julian then began to swear, and both began to kick at Aubrey, yet for some reason, she seemed to grin and simply closed her eyes.

---

Aubrey woke, and being confined to a chair, she leaped out of it, running so fast that she ran into the wall, propelling herself onto the floor. The memory, idea, of Julian and Bastian having complete power over her and she having no power over her own body was the utmost pinnacle of fear in her eyes. She shivered, pulling her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth. Charlie looked compassionately at her, and she avoided eye contact, knowing that what Charlie just saw was embarrassing and awkward. Charlie opened her mouth, and Aubrey could hear her intake of breath that showed she was going to speak, and Aubrey spoke up first. "Don't say anything, please... we both know that this is a shitty part of initiation, and I don't want to talk about it. Can I go, sister." Aubrey knew that it was rude to shake off her sister like that, but she couldn't deal with the fact that she had been there watching as this fear came over her. Therefore, she looked directly at Charlie, waiting for her persmission. Charlie sighed, and nodded. Aubrey got up, moving to the door. "Thank you Charlie, I... Well.. Thanks." She knew that it was nice to say something like "i love you" or anything along those lines, but she wasn't in the mood for sentamentality. She opened the door, looking to where Randi and FInn still stood, and jogged over. "Now that that shit show is over, how about those tattoos?" She said, laughing lightly to cover the still slight tremble in her voice.

Interacting with: Randi Sanctuaryforall1 Finn Baratheon

Christian "Chris" Parks || 16 || Initiate ||Dauntlessborn

Chris nodded at Harper, knowing that her advice was good, it wasn't a very good idea for him to go back anywhere alone... As he exited the room however, he noted that Blair was still not done with her simulation, he sighed, feeling dizzy and unfocused, he looked for the closest person he knew. Immediately noticing someone who he just happened to bump into often. "Leah." His voice was smooth, and her name rolled out of his mouth nicely, it seemed like he could be easily drawn to her, like she was somehow familiar, or the right kind of unfamiliar that made you feel at home. As he called her name, she seemed surprised, and he watched as she turned to him. He studied her for a second, his eyes hazy and unclear, it was like looking through misty windows at the world around you, able to see some, but not all, of what was there. She was very different to most people in Dauntless, both in looks and in her mind and personality, most people were tall, demanding, strong and built for war. Leah was slim and agile, lean and her muscles seemed more fit for agility than for weight training. Her hair was dark and long, and her features sharp. Her mind was sharp too, as Chris recalled. He sighed, closing his eyes as a headache began to fall upon him. "Might I ask a favor? I fell unwell during my simulation, and am struggling to walk well, would you mind helping me to get to the dorms? That is if you aren't too busy." He asked, watching her closely as his vision temporarily came back to him properly. He knew that it was pretty "weak" to ask others to help you like this, but he preferred that he was honest and asked her to help than to have himself faint and be unwell here and now. She seemed to agree, and came closer, unsure of how to help him. "I'm just unsteady." He assured her, and slowly reached out in order to lay his hand on her shoulder. He did it slowly, that if this was uncomfortable she could stop it. They walked towards the dorms, slowly but constant, and Chris found himself sometimes feeling nearly normal, and sometimes feeling close to passing out. His body occasionally wavered and he knew that he needed to slow down at those points, wheras when his vision cleared he knew he was okay. Thankfully the dorms were not far away.

He and Leah got to the dorms quickly, and he politely took his hand off of her once they were there, stumbling towards his bed. He smiled at her, as he sat down, feeling much better even then. "Thank you. That was helpful. I owe you a favour." He said smiling, watching as she stood at the door. Feeling still very dizzy, he lay down and closed his eyes, not thinking to go to sleep, but more to calm himself and let himself heal. "I believe the others are getting tattoos after the sims, do you plan to do something like that? Or have you other ways of winding down after simulations?" He asked, opening his eye to check whether she was still there.

Interacting with: Leah xayah.

 

[WanderLust.]

Blair Avalon // 16 // Dauntless Born // Initiate // Divergent
Interacting With: Ghost Aviator Christian mentioned Nerdy.​

“Miss Avalon,” Blair’s ocean blue eyes shot to attention but her head did not move. She was frozen, and yet that voice had set her on fire. “Your turn.” Ghost. Waves of emotion washed through her, none of them pleasant, and yet her face was painted with indifference as she wordlessly rose to her feet, briskly brushing past the man who called himself an instructor. She would not follow him. She knew where she was going, there was no need for the blonde to tail him like a lost puppy. Instead, she prowled forward like a lioness about to begin her hunt. Her last encounter with the phantom had left her feeling vulnerable, as if his gaze had seen right through her facade... as if he knew something he shouldn’t. She had barely escaped a complete and total outting of her darkest secret when she had last danced with this devil. She was determined to not less this encounter come quite so close.

Blair kept her mouth shut as she entered the testing room, her eyes landing on the same chair she had sat in yesterday when Ghost had pried into her first fear simulation, when she guessed the seeds of suspicion had first been planted in his maze of a mind. She sat down with out having to be asked. Immediately pulling her long blonde hair to one side, shamelessly displaying the faded bruises that littered her skin. The sooner she got this over with the better. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, to scream at him, but she remained stoic. He had given Christian a death sentence, his bodies addiction to the drug Ghost had given him would slowly destroy her boyfriend from the inside out and she could only watch helplessly as he worsened. She swallowed down her anger, her jaw visibly clenching as she closed her eyes and waited for the needle. Christian was dying, and she blamed Ghost for that. She would always blame Ghost for that. She had gotten so lost in her anger that the feeling of the needle puncturing her skin caused her eyes to shoot open before slowly drifting closed once again as the serum took over.

**************************************

The entire world was spinning... or maybe it was just the room? No, she wasn’t spinning at all, she was falling. The ground rose up to meet her and yet she didn’t feel any pain upon impact. She was... numb. Blair was flat on her back, slowly pushing herself up on her elbows in an attempt to get a better look at her surroundings. It was dark... and she heard voices... Christian’s voice. For a moment, the faintest of smiles touched her lips as the thought of safety and affection crossed her mind. Chris... “Where is it?!” The muscular blonde yelled, his voice laced with anger and hysteria. Confusion shot through her, where was what? Was she supposed to have something? She finally sat up, her hands searching her pockets as she tried to find what Christian was looking for. Her stomach churned as she felt the heavy weight of an unfamiliar weapon in her jacket... a pistol? They had practiced with these during their physical training in initiation. Blair had been a fair shot, not fantastic, but more likely to hit her target than miss it.

Her confusion only worsened as Chris continued his verbal onslaught, “Give it to me!” She almost flinched at his words, did Chris want the gun? He was walking towards her, and she was about to speak, when another voice made a debut from behind her. “I’m afraid I don’t have what you’re looking for, Parks.” A glare immediately covered her features, she knew that voice. When her eyes finally landed on its owner, she was shocked to realize she was on a rooftop, the phantom hovering close to the edge as if the threat of falling hadn’t even crossed his mind. It was at this point that Christian walked right past Blair as if she wasn’t even there, his gaze fixated on the Holy Ghost. Blair stumbled to her feet, following after him. “Christian what are you doing?” Her voice indicated that she understood the gravity of the situation.

Christian closed the gap between himself and Ghost almost too quickly for Blair to process. Now he too was uncomfortably close to the edge of the rooftop, dauntless life so far below that Blair couldn’t even hear it. “Christian...” her voice was a warning this time, but it was as if he didn’t even hear it. His hands shot out, grabbing Ghost’s jacket and frisking through it, looking for something that the dark haired male had already claimed he didn’t have. “GIVE ME THE LULL!” His voice thundered across the rooftop, his hands shoving Ghost who almost immediately drew his own gun from a hidden location. “No!” Blair shot forward, she would not lose Christian like this... she still had time left him before his inevitable death... she still had time... she still had time.

Before Ghost had been able to fire, Christian had knocked the gun out of his opponents hand, the weapon disappearing off the roof, falling to the unknown depths below. She watched as the larger blonde began shoving Ghost backwards, closer and closer towards the edge until they were practically tempting gravity itself. He was going to kill him... “Christian stop!” There was an unwelcome desperation to her voice. Why did Blair care what happened to Ghost? Blair took another step forward, only to find that some invisible barrier was preventing her from getting any closer to the pair, stopping her from pulling them apart. Another shove, Ghost’s foot nearly slipping off the side off the building, just narrowly regaining his balance by latching onto Christian’s torso. “Christian please!” Her voice wavered, pain lingering in her cries as she felt her hand twitch closer to something she didn’t want to touch.

They were a senseless mess now, each trying to over power the other, one constantly on the cusp of taking one step too far. Blair shoved at the invisible barrier again but it was no use, it became abundantly clear she would not be getting any closer to the grappling men. This was not the Christian she knew. This man was overcome by anger and couldn’t be reasoned with. He wanted blood... Blair barely recognized him, it looked like Christian but those eyes weren’t his. The voice that he used belonged to somebody else, not her Christian... Ghost let out a strangled gasp as his foot finally slipped too far. Blair opened her mouth to scream from behind her damned barrier but the noise that echoed through the air was anything but human. The shot reverberated off of invisible walls, and for a moment time stood still as the noise repeated itself over and over again as if to cruelly remind Blair what she had just done. Her hands released the pistol, which clattered to the ground, quite literally a smoking gun. Her teal eyes flicked from Ghost, who was seemingly falling in slow motion, back to Christian... who was just now seeming to realize that a bullet had pierced through his chest, blood staining the front of his shirt as he crumpled to the ground.

Blair pushed forward, the invisible barrier finally seeming to collapse as if the bullet she had fired had broken it to pieces. And as the blonde girl raced forward, her hands latching onto those that were slightly larger than her own, she surprised even herself. Her body slammed to the ground as Ghost’s weight attempted to pull her down with him, his body dangling off the edge of the building, one hand grasping onto Blair’s, the other locked onto the edge of the building. Blair gritted her teeth as she tried to pull Ghost up, but his grip on the building was preventing her from getting proper leverage. “You have to let go!” Blair cried desperately. “And why should I do that?” It was a fair question. What reason did Ghost have to trust Blair? She could’ve easily let him fall to his death the second he let go, “You’re just gonna have to trust me...” she panted, her arm starting to shake from the weight she was holding.

He was reluctant, Blair could tell, but she was running out of strength to hold onto him. “Ghost!” She yelled desperately, only for him to finally release his grasp on the building. Blair’s other hand shot out to grab him, pulling him up with both her arms, dragging him over the edge with a cry of exertion until he was finally pulled back to safety. Letting go of him and rolling over, Blair laid there, staring at an unforgiving sky. She didn’t dare look over to see Christian... she knew he was gone, and it was her fault, she couldn’t bare to see the consequences of her actions. Ghost lay next to her, seemingly dumbfounded as a single word escaped his lips. “...why?” Blair didn’t look over to him as she answered. “Because I forgive you.” She panted, catching her breath. And that was when it occurred to her... she was catching her breath, her heart rate was slowing, she should be waking up... fear simulations released you once you faced your fear... unless.... this hadn’t been a fear simulation. The realization made Blair’s blood turn to ice, she had been faced with a series of choices, given tools to see how she’d use them... this hadn’t been a fear simulation... it was an aptitude test.

**************************************

Blair’s eyes shot open, and she was rising from her chair before she even had time to adjust back to reality. Her deadly glare landing straight on the man she had just been foolish enough to let live. He was still staring at the screen in front of him, perhaps unaware that she had woken up so quickly. She didn't need to see the screen to know what he saw, dauntless, amity, and erudite. Divergent, the same result as the last time she had taken the aptitude test. “What the hell was that?!” It was a rhetorical question, she obviously already knew the answer. “I should’ve let your scrawny ass fall...” she stormed forward as if she were about to punch him straight in the face, only to stop dead in her tracks as her eyes glazed over. The pressure in her head was back, she was vaguely aware of the sneaky little rat talking, sounding pleased with himself as usual, but she couldn’t make sense of any of his words. One hand flew to her head, clutching it as if she were suffering from one of the worst migraines of her life, she gritted her teeth as the feeling continued to build. The glass shattering, mirror breaking, pain ripped through her painfully slowly, all the while Ghost continued talking until Blair couldn’t take it anymore. Something inside of her just... snapped.

 

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless
​

Ghost watched, his face scrunched in a moue of distaste, as Christian Parks leaned toward Blair and bestowed a soft kiss on her face. Gross, he thought, did I really do that with two girls? And here I’d hoped to God that not wanting those things made me less disgusting than other men. He tried to imagine the rationale of straight women, what they could possibly see in men, other than bloodthirsty, unrefined, patriarchal brutes, and failed miserably. Finally, his discomfort mounting, he curled his lip and turned away, finding something, anything else to look at.
Blair and Parks eventually parted ways, each going to their respective testing room, and Blair flounced past Ghost, not casting so much as a glance in his direction. He quietly reflected on that. All three of the initiates he’d tested today had regarded him with open hostility, not even bothering to muster a pretense of neutrality. Ghost frowned. He had come to realize that he was the type of boy whom some respected but few liked—like a shot of something bitter and strong, and best to abstain if you couldn’t handle the kick. But still. These Dauntless girls needed to do a better job of hiding their emotions, if they wanted to make it in this faction. The Dauntless had few qualms with exploiting a rival’s weakness, and more than anything, that included using her feelings against her. Ghost wondered if that phenomenon was specific to Dauntless, or whether it existed in the hierarchies of all the other factions, too. They just had the perspicacity to not be so obvious about it.
He turned and followed Blair into the testing room, administering her serum without ceremony. Neither of them spoke, and the operation went smoothly. Blair displayed those mulberry bruises on her neck like badges of honor, but Ghost couldn’t help thinking that, next to what Charlie used to endure on the daily, they were nothing. For a moment, the long, shallow knife cut across his face that Bastian Hunter had given him as a parting gift stung with pain, and Ghost shivered as he moved away from Blair’s motionless form. He started pacing to work off some of his agitation.
Wake up and get it together, Jacobi, Ghost chastised himself, jerking his attention back to the moment. He used to never have problems focusing on a task at hand, but now he caught his thoughts wandering on an increasing basis. The next few minutes for which Blair would be in her simulation were crucial, and he had to stay on guard. For better or worse, both their lives could change today. More than that, even. Everything could change. Unlike so many others who took the faction system for granted, accepting it as a lifelong constant like air and sunlight and taxes, Ghost had bigger and better ideas in mind. Having a known Divergent at his disposal was more power than money could buy, if he played his cards right.
Speaking of, he reached into a pocket of his trench coat, locating his deck of cards, and slid them out of the box. The crisp and pleasant smell of freshly-minted paper suffused the air; Ghost had an infinite collection of playing cards, some much older than others, but a new deck was always best to practice sleight of hand with. A new deck was easier to manipulate, much like a new person—like Blair Avalon herself, who had lived too coddled a life to know how to anticipate and fend off danger. Shuffling the cards with the susurrus of wind slithering through tall grass, Ghost momentarily paused his pacing to watch her simulation. Just from casual observance, not even he would have realized the simulation for what it really was, or wasn’t. The collage of images depicted on the computer monitor looked distressing enough to be the product of fear serum. With a small shock of alarm, he recognized a lithe, scowling figure that was supposed to be himself on the screen.
What if she’s not what I think she is? The first trickles of doubt started to creep into him, and the only thought loud enough to silence them was But what if she is? There’s no reward without risk, Ghost’s father used to say, and Ghost had taken precautions to minimize that risk as much as possible. If Blair really was Divergent, then she wouldn’t be able to rat on him for having administered an unlawful aptitude test in place of the fear simulation without calling her contentious results into question.
However, if she wasn’t Divergent, then she would likely take the aptitude test at face value, viewing it as a real-life scenario just as she would the fear simulation. Theoretically, a regular person shouldn’t be able to distinguish between the two of them while they were occurring, since she wouldn’t realize that either was just a simulation. The fact that aptitude tests usually took the shape of a distressing, potentially dangerous scenario only strengthened the illusion. That way, even after a non-Divergent surfaced from her aptitude test and returned to full consciousness, she probably still wouldn’t realize that it was a completely different serum. And if Blair did? Ghost would wash away her suspicions with the allure of an exceptional score for the test; few people would argue against their best interests, especially if it meant avoiding having to undergo an additional fear simulation. That way, if his hypothesis turned out to be incorrect, he wouldn’t burn for having tried to verify it.
It was an optimal position for Ghost, allowing him to keep his bases covered while also attacking. He felt wonderfully vile for having thought of it. A simpler solution might have been to slip Blair some truth serum instead, but considering that she had previously shown some immunity to the fear serum, who was to say that the truth serum wouldn’t have been equally ineffective on her? Plus, if he was wrong and she wasn’t Divergent, then Ghost would definitely suffer the consequences. There was no covering up the overpowering effects of truth serum, so he had read. At least by subjecting her to a simulation of some kind, even if not a scary one, it was reasonable to believe that it was the product of fear serum, and perhaps Blair was just improving at facing down her fears.
Ghost felt in control, and he liked it, the gratifying knowledge that everything happening from this point on had been of his own design. It was how great chess players viewed a game. Clearly and from a distance. Now the only remaining question was that of Jiao-Long Young’s intention by commissioning Ghost to hunt down and turn in the Divergent initiates to him. But Ghost had a theory to that, too. His nimble fingers worked the deck of cards furiously, shuffling and cutting and flourishing, trying to keep up with the manic pace of his thoughts.
Before he could get to it, however, Blair snapped awake with a lurch that Ghost glimpsed in his peripheral vision. He caught a waterfall of cards in his hand and calmly turned to face her. Her and the computer screen to her left, which had been expertly angled away from her so that she couldn’t see its results.
But Ghost saw everything. Everything he needed to know and more.
Euphoria swept through him for having listened to his instincts. Risk had indeed reaped reward. He strolled across the room to the chair that sat opposite Blair’s. She had leapt out of hers upon awakening, face red, muscles tense, eyes ablaze; Ghost could see that his experiment had struck a nerve. Blair loomed like a dark thundercloud, a breath away from splitting open and unleashing her fury, but he pretended not to take notice. He perched lightly on his seat, one leg crossed over his lap, and gestured for her to do the same. “Well played, Miss Avalon,” he said pleasantly, breezing past her question. I, however, played better, of course. Not that that’s a surprise. “However, I recommend that you keep your voice down. I’m feeling a bit jumpy today, and you wouldn’t want to startle me into taking any hasty precautions.” Yet, sitting as he was, with all the effortless grace of an emperor lounging on his throne, he appeared anything but jumpy. “Sit, please. You’ve given me a lot to think about, and perhaps you can help me draw the proper conclusions,” he continued in a silky voice. Blair clutched at her head, as if she were either seized by sudden pain or unable to believe that she’d done something incredibly stupid, but she complied, heavily flopping into her chair.
Ghost’s mind whirled, shifting some tidbits around, isolating variables, calculating probabilities, sifting through an endless sea of possibilities… It was like doing a jigsaw puzzle backward, knowing the full picture but not quite how to assemble it. One thing was for certain: He couldn’t turn Blair over to Young, no matter what, and if that meant breaking his contract, then so be it. Blair and other Divergents, what with their ability to render serums useless, might hold the very keys to the entire city’s fate, and come hell or high water, Ghost would not hand them over without a fight. Young’s obsessive interest in Divergents wasn’t hard to understand: How did the five factions enforce their authority? Why, when human nature was lacking and resisted conforming to the group, each faction made up for it through the usage of serums. The Amity used peace serum to subdue a particularly obstinate individual; the Candor used truth serum to extract confessions that would not have otherwise been forthcoming; the Dauntless used fear serum to weed out the weak from the strong.
But individuals like Blair Avalon wrested that authority away from the factions, because serums didn’t work on her—she’d been able to identify her latest simulation as an aptitude test without Ghost having to tell her, and yesterday during her fear sim, she had barely appeared surprised at anything she saw, let alone terrified like other initiates. Therefore, by rounding up these Divergents and bending them to his will… Young either sought to kill them and eliminate the threat they posed to the existing system, or he sought to use them to game the system and reestablish a new one altogether, with himself at its head. Ghost could only imagine the mindless squabbling in which the other factions would dissolve when Young presented his findings on the Divergents; how the factions would turn on one another as they scrambled for a solution. And then, while the factions were distracted, having unintentionally weakened themselves as a result of their internal struggle, Young would move in and take the city for himself. Because why stop as Erudite leader when four-fifths of Chicago were still outside his control? Truly, though, whoever held the Divergents held the world in his hand, and Ghost wasn’t about to settle for being Young’s pawn when he himself could be a player.
Ghost wasn’t prophetic. He was just ruthlessly logical, much like his employer. Having spent his youth in the crystal bubble of high society, he knew to never underestimate some men’s limitless greed for money and power, even when they were already at the top of the food chain.
Might it be that he could read Young’s hidden motives so easily because he himself was the same way?
He shook off that unpleasant thought. Obviously, there were worlds of difference between Leah’s father and himself. Ghost riffled the pack of cards in his hand, reminding himself of his surroundings, and of the very angry girl sitting across from him, shooting him a look that would peel paint off of steel plate. “Sorry,” he muttered to Blair, his oil-slick demeanor from a minute ago now replaced by his usual scowl. “I get lost in thought easily anymore.” Which wasn’t untruthful. Ghost cleared his throat. Usually, he was very good with words, but for some inexplicable reason, he was finding it hard to articulate his thoughts when he held the upper hand. “I know what you’re thinking right now, Miss Avalon,” he started, doing away with all pretension of gloating superiority. He frowned down at his playing cards, seeming to make one disappear as he palmed it, and yet when he turned his hand over, it was nowhere to be found. “You are… lamenting your inability to have stayed hidden from me for longer, and you’re resenting me for having tricked you into revealing what’s likely your dearest secret. However, while you’re probably not feeling it right now, I assure you that it was a stroke of luck on your part that I, out of all the instructors, was the one to find you out.”
Ghost’s russet eyes flicked up momentarily from his cards to gauge Blair’s reaction. Her hands were clenched, as if she were imagining how it would feel to wrap them around his throat. “No, hear me out on this,” he insisted. “Trust me, you would know if I were mocking you. Anyway, Harper is shrewd, but she’s too ambitious. Too eager to please her superiors. If she were in my place now, she would turn you over to leadership, quick as thought, if it meant advancing her career. She lacks intellectual independence, is her problem. And Maddox? Like his brother, he is completely ruled by his emotions, eschewing logic no matter the consequences. At the forefront of his arbitrary decision-making process is cheap booze, getting laid, and whatever else will grant him short-term gratification. In his irresponsible hands, who knows what would become of you?” In Ghost’s hands, however, he fanned the cards in an elegant, perfect circle that was very pleasing to look at.
“Unlike my colleagues,” he continued, “I am a visionary. You can trust that whatever decision I make with my knowledge will be a well-informed one, for the noble cause of future advancement.” This time when he looked up, he held Blair’s stare. Her blue eyes were as pale and cold as wind-roughened ice. A beat passed, then two. “What’s furthermore is that I happen to be a critic of the faction system.”
And the other shoe dropped.
Ghost temporarily set his cards on the table between Blair and him so that he could fold his hands and prop his chin on them. “I don’t hate you for what you are, Miss Avalon. On the contrary, I rather admire you. Your very existence is a giant middle finger to all five factions. In fact, I’d envy your well-rounded aptitude, if not for the colossal target that it would put on my back.” Ghost thought of his nanny-turned-adoptive-grandmother, Margot, when he said that. After his father had been exposed as a fraudster for millions of dollars, no one had been willing to hire Margot after that. Erudite society had turned its back on her, effectively relegating her to factionless scum who couldn’t even manage to put food on the table some nights. Ghost’s aptitude test might have said Erudite, but he would rather chew his own foot off than go crawling back to them.
“What you can do—resisting serums and whatnot—is, in a word, amazing. Just think of all the implications this means for the faction system,” he said in a reverent voice, the kind of tone used for saints and sacred places. “When individuals try to defy their factions, serums are used to turn us into puppets who nod their heads and follow the crowd. But you, my dear, shoot that all to hell. You turn their carefully cultivated order into a chaotic jumble. You have the capacity to show the factions the error of their deeply flawed ways, and thus give the factionless a voice. They test for too few factions, and you for too many. Don’t you see?” Ghost’s eyes were bright with earnestness, and his voice cracked a little, scratchy from disuse. He never talked at such length—not even with Charlie, and certainly not with Caspian—but he could barely contain his excitement. These were thoughts he’d been harboring ever since he’d declined the position of leadership that Dauntless had offered him after graduating at the top of his class. Because Ghost was a man of strong opinions and a desire for radical change, and he knew that he’d likely get a knife in his back before those changes ever saw the light of day.
“The factionless are our natural allies against the corrupt system! They number far more than any one faction, and they have plenty of reasons to resent the government, so they will be instrumental in our rebellion. And then, with their help, we’ll move in to overthrow the five factions—”
Blair stopped him there, with an assortment of protests concerning her involvement in an overthrow.
Ghost quieted. The expression of wonder gradually melted off his face to be replaced by a contemptuous scowl. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, holding himself very still, like a viper poised to strike. He waited for Blair to finish speaking, and then for a little more. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Perhaps you misunderstand me, Miss Avalon,” he returned coolly. “I wasn’t asking your permission or leaving anything up for debate. You will help my plans go forward. From now on, you do what I say and you go where I tell you to, because you won’t find a better offer from the Dauntless, if they were to catch on to your secret. Just remember your alternative: the dark interior of a tractor trailer, with you pitching around on the floor, trussed up like a Christmas present with a gag in your mouth as you’re carted off to some remote backwoods ditch, where your captors will methodically put a bullet in your brain and then dump the body in a lake, never to be seen or heard of again. Take your pick,” he said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather.
The blond initiate glared, but she said nothing, because there really wasn’t a choice.
“I’ll thank you in advance for your cooperation,” Ghost went on with a mild expression, as if he hadn’t just threatened Blair with death. Once again, he was all soothing calmness, polite manners, and gentlemanly refinement, just as he’d been when Blair had first emerged from her simulation. “Because now I would like you to answer a few questions for me, please, so that I can better understand your Divergent abilities before I form a plan of action. Please answer them candidly and omit nothing; that will save us both a lot of time. My first question is—”
A mouthful of spit in his face cut Ghost off.
Calmly reaching for his handkerchief, he wiped his face clean. “Let’s play a game, shall we?” he suggested, and Ghost’s lips lifted into an upward slant, not quite a smile. “I happen to love games. Don’t you?” From within his coat he drew a pearl-handled Beretta pistol, one of his two Wicked Sisters. He ejected the magazine and made a show of unloading the bullets, all except for one. He held them halfway out to Blair, making a flourish with his right hand as if to say, See these? It was the moment that Blair’s gaze zeroed in on the collection of bullets that Ghost used a swift and subtle movement of his left hand to snatch the final bullet out of the chamber of the pistol. Misdirection at its finest; no way was he actually putting Blair’s life on the line when she was his ticket to something better. So long as she believed that the game was real was all that mattered.
Ghost dumped the handful of bullets into one of his coat pockets, then spun the chamber so that it whirred with a sinister metallic ticking, like a scorpion snapping its pincers. He leveled the Beretta at Blair, thumbing back the hammer. “The object of this game is for you to answer Ghost’s questions as quickly and neatly as possible, so that he won’t have to do this”—the gun produced a dry click when he pulled the trigger—“so very often. And then there’s a smaller likelihood that he’ll end the day cleaning up Divergent brains off the wall. Got it?” he finished cheerily. Surely Blair could figure out that Ghost would likely evade punishment for killing a Divergent, now that he had the option of saving the record of her aptitude score on the computer and proving it to all. He could claim that she had attacked him when he’d discovered her secret, and his shooting her was self-defense. Leadership would be grateful that there was one less Divergent to wreak havoc and not look too hard into the case.
Still keeping the gun aimed at her, Ghost leaned back in his seat. A look of mischief twinkled across his angular features. “Question one,” he drawled, enjoying himself, “how long have you known you’re Divergent? Was it the aptitude test you took a month or so ago, or was there something before that tipped you off?”
Blair’s answer did not come as readily as Ghost would have liked. He pulled the trigger a second time, and there came another ineffectual click. “A little faster, please. Efficiency is everything, Miss Avalon.” He idly stroked a long finger down the barrel of the pistol. “Or would you like to go for round three?”
Right then, Ghost had stupidly taken his eyes off of Blair, so he couldn’t quite say what happened next. It was just for a second, but a reformed pickpocket like him should have known that fortunes can exchange hands in a second, that bullets can be swapped out of a gun in a second, that empires can be won and lost in a second. The next thing he knew, the papers on his discarded clipboard were suddenly ruffling, as if disturbed by a gentle breeze. And then a few cards at the top of the deck stirred and skittered across the table like autumn leaves, falling into his lap.
There was the sound of shattering glass as the monitor displaying Blair’s aptitude test scores burst into a million shards.
Ghost’s pulse throttled. He latched onto the arm of his chair with one hand, and he was only vaguely aware of his Beretta bouncing against the floor. Remembering the spinning vortex that had overtaken this very room during Randi’s fear sim immediately after he’d downed the lull coffee, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the drug-induced hallucination to pass.
It’s not real, he reminded himself on repeat as he felt a current of wind part his hair. God, please, I’ll never do drugs again, just let it pass—
Only it didn’t. Against all odds, Ghost felt a powerful force shove hard against his chest, and his eyes flew open, sure that Blair had taken advantage of his distraction to leap across the table and attack him. Alarm shot through him and he sprang to his feet. Only to stare in confusion when he found her seated exactly where he’d last seen her. That invisible force pressed again, knocking him back a step, but his chair caught him behind the knees, and he tumbled maladroitly into it.
And then there was another burst of inexorable pressure, sending Ghost’s chair tipping backward with him in it, spilling him to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Breath exploded from his lungs. In the midst of it all, Ghost strangely wanted to cry. He hadn’t experienced a hallucination to this extent in years, and this sudden onslaught could only mean terrible things going forward. His heart was thundering so hard that he could feel it in his head, his throat, his back. “Please,” he gasped, but Ghost wasn’t religious. He didn’t know who or what he was begging. Perhaps death itself to spare him.
All around him were crashes and clatters and shrieks of glass, and he shut his eyes again, futilely trying to block out the violent discordance of his world exploding. The floor must have tilted like the deck of a sinking ship, because then he was sliding across it headfirst and watching the ceiling panels pass overhead in a blur. Ghost kicked and thrashed, trying to dig his fingers into the floor and halt his motion, but to no avail. A moment later, a dizzying lurch took hold of his stomach, and he swore that he was somehow airborne, sailing through space as if he weighed nothing.
There was a muted crunch and a sickening swarm of agony as his head connected with something solid. A wall, perhaps? Or had his gun flown up and cracked him across the skull? He didn’t have time to think about it before darkness folded over him like black water, dragging him down.
The last thing Ghost was conscious of was a flutter in the air, and a single card landed on his chest. A joker grinned up at him, as if the whole thing had been a trick.

 

[MWMASkairipa]

~She was powerful, not because she wasn't scared, but because she went on so strongly, despite the fear~
~Atticus~
Bella Quinn | 16 | Transfer Initiate |Amity
What happened next caught the small redhead completely off guard. He was asking to be her friend, just outright like that? How could someone even do that? She could only dream of having that kind of confidence to just ask someone to be their friend. What confused her more was the fact that he asked if she'd take a chance to see if he was worthy of being her friend. Boy was he in the dark in that regard. If anyone should be worried about making friends, it should be her. Why would he be worried about being good enough? He certainly had good looks, a charming smile to help him along. Surely he'd be popular here. Was it because he was from Abnegation? Probably, but even so, why would he ask someone so quiet and shy as her to be his friend? Surely she'd just hold him back.

As the silence stretched between them, she lightly chewed on her bottom lip, staring at his extended hand. What was she supposed to do? it would be rude to just walk away, but what if she said yes, what then? Get to know each other, learn their secrets and then he leaves once he finds out what kind of person she was underneath her carefully crafted shell. She almost slapped herself. She was always so afraid of what other people thought of her. She was always worrying about how they'd react when they saw her scars, knew her past. She was willing to bet a good amount of the other Initiates had experienced something similar. So... that being said, why was she so afraid of letting someone like Night, like Ben, like Maverick, Dante, Fable... why was she so scared of letting people see inside her? Part of being brave was letting your guard down, wasn't it?

The redhead before him took in a breath, gathering her confidence, and reached a cold, shaky hand towards his, hesitantly placing her fingers against his palm. Somehow, when she felt his large hand wrap around her small one, warmth spread through her body like heat provided like a fuzzy blanket. For the moment, she felt safe, knowing that someone with stature like his, with such a warm, gentle touch, was willing to take a chance with her. Did he even have any idea how much this meant? She was expecting his hands to be rough, with a bone-breaking grip, so much so that her small form had already tensed in anticipation for the pain that she assumed would follow. But it didn't. His touch was like he was handling a precious stone. The only other guy that had been this careful with her was Maverick, at Blair's birthday party a few days ago.

Her eyes shown wonder of a child as she stared at their entwined hands for longer than most people would think was normal. She couldn't help it. The only touch she'd ever had from a man had been her father, and he had more than unkind to her in her decade and a half of life. Perhaps coming here had been a good thing. She'd begun to doubt that since the sims started. But now... she was beginning to see a new perspective in people. One person's mistakes did not define the multitude. That was something she was still learning, but this was a step in the right direction, she thought. Her father was a monster, but his actions didn't mean all men were like him. That didn't erase the trauma, the anxiety, or the fear of being hurt again, but it gave her some comfort in realizing that maybe one day she'd come to find a man who would treat her right, the way Ben always said she deserved.

//Interactions: Night paralyzed ​

 

[xayah.]

LEAH YOUNG

erudite to dauntless | 16 | initiate​

Being in Ferris's presence always triggered the years of social training Leah had learned in Erudite, especially when she was annoyed with him. Subtle cues, like avoiding eye contact, might have been imperceptible to other initiates, but she knew he understood. Spending most of their childhood together as dance partners at high society gatherings made it impossible for him not to. While those moments died long ago, her way of subtly communicating with Ferris hadn't. Even when the two were alone inside the simulation room, Leah refused to respond to him. The thought of last night's actions flustered her more than she would have liked to admit, and she couldn't bring herself to talk to him, much less look at him. Instead, she focused on a single tile, moving only to brush her ebony hair off her neck to grant the needle access. As Ferris' cold fingers held her skin taut for the needle to go in, Leah's breath hitched. Whether it was because of the possibility of being so vulnerable in front of him once she was in the simulation or because of such contact after last night, Leah wasn't quite sure. However, she didn't have time to ponder it as the brief pinch she felt from the needle puncturing her skin was the only thing she could concentrate on. Soon, her eyelids slowly closed to embrace the darkness of the fear simulation.
Leah woke with a start, sitting up abruptly. Taking in deep breaths, her eyes darted around to glance at her surroundings. Fields of dull yellow grass laid under and around her with nothing else in sight. The sky was clear, not a cloud around either. As she tried to identify where she could possibly be, her right hand felt something cold and sleek. She picked it up, taking in the sight of a pistol in her hand before standing up and glancing around for any sign of life. Where was she? Why was she here? As she looked around, something darted past her. She turned around in an instant as it passed by and left only a single trace of it behind. A single feather, as black as her hair, laid on the ground. The moment she glanced at it, a single bird was aimed right at her. Her right hand aimed at it, almost instinctively and pulled the trigger. However, as one fell the rest of the flock came out of nowhere and straight at her. Although they were just squaking as birds do, Leah swore she could hear insults and criticisms. You'll never make it. Drop out now and maybe you can go crying back to your daddy for a place in Erudite. You might be first place in academics but you're so close to last place in Dauntless. As the birds continued to swarm around her, Leah felt paralyzed. They pecked and clawed at her skin, leaving small cuts with every pass at Leah. The constant onslaught brought the princess to her knees as she closed her eyes in hopes that her misery would end soon.
Opening her eyes to the bright lights of the simulation room startled Leah. She took quick gasps for air as her body struggled to return to its proper posture. When it did, she remembered the other person in the room with her and felt vulnerable, too vulnerable. His presence couldn't be ignored this time, especially when he looked at her with some combination of worry and regret, but neither could the frustration she felt at him. His attempt to lighten the mood, with an anecdote of happier times, did little to appease the cauldron of emotions she felt. Anger and embarrassment from last night. Anxiety and vulnerability from the simulation. Almost a decade of worry from his disappearance. The lines began blurring, and his almost pitiful apology didn't do much to appease her. Ferris himself must have realized how pathetic he seemed as his apology took a turn. Words were meaningless. The rollercoaster of a relationship that the two of them had had ever since Leah transfered only confirmed that to her. Even his willingness to resign seemed empty and hollow to her. Ferris seemed to understand that as well as he offered her an advantage above other initiates. Leah was a bit put off, but she knew that without it, she might as well be factionless. It wasn't going to atone for all his actions, but Leah would let it be a start. She still refused to speak to him, but a small nod of head conveyed that she'd agree to try it.
The shift from pleading apologist to ecstatic planner was jarring, even to Leah, but she let him have his little moment. She would go along with the plan for now, even with the subtle insinuation that Alex might be hurt as a result of the two's less than stellar relationship. The last time the two met, Leah had been the catalyst and the mediator for their little argument. In fact, she had always played both roles ever since the three of them were young. She could never stop it. Although the idea of her twin brother getting hurt was not ideal, the sight of Ferris' face slowly spreading into a smile melted away her concerns. It was a reprieve from the pitiful and unnatural state of him begging for forgiveness and a memory of times long ago. She got up towards the door and glanced at him one more time, as if confirming her role in the plan tomorrow, before striding out. Tomorrow would be a better day, especially with the presence of Alex. However one thing stuck out to Leah despite how exhausted she was mentally and physically.
Why was Alex coming in the first place?

 

[Baratheon]

Finn Day

Finn let out a boyish giggle as Randi ruffled his hair. It was her favorite to do to him, always had been, since they were younger. As kids, to annoy him, but as they grew older, it became a little more endearing. They'd had their romantic endeavors in the past, and while Finn didn't feel like that anymore, he still found he felt extremely protective and caring of the girl he'd once loved. Aubrey would always be the star in his life, but Randi was the temptation of mischief constantly glinting in the corner of his eye. Oh dear. If they had ended up together what would the world have done? It would have been way too chaotic for anything to last; but perhaps... perhaps he would be a little more Dauntless? Randi was wild, but he had no doubt she was a Dauntless through and through. Maybe she would have rubbed off on him a little.

Her idea was fantastic, though! Finn had wondered about getting some lightning striking up his forearm, or a dragon on his shoulder blade. Something super cool, y'know. Maybe Aubrey could find a good one for him from Sasha. But just as they were about to move on, Aubrey was called in for her testing. Oh, she hadn't gone yet? Finn offered her a kind smile and a hard squeeze on the shoulder. "You got this!"

She was off on her way and Finn sort of followed, to be close and ready when she was done. Shouldn't be long. He fidgeted a little, wondering if he needed something to eat. Was he hungry? Nervous? Bored? Probably all three. Maybe they could get some ice cream after tattoos.

It wasn't long before the blonde bounced back out, and- well, not bounced. She seemed more somber than earlier, despite the mask Finn could tell she was trying to put on. He knew her well enough to hear the tremble in her voice, the flint of fear in her eyes. Her fear had been bad, again. He wished he could wrap her in a hug, but... she was trying to be strong and he respected that. For now. He would comfort her later, when they were alone. Maybe he could help somehow. The boy felt guilty about his own fears. Yes, he was scared too but his Divergency made the fears easier to get over. Here Aubrey was having to face them head-on. She was so much stronger than him; nothing but admiration and care shone in his eyes for the girl beside him. He reached out a hand to hold her own and gave it a soft squeeze.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

Harper Day

Harper was a little surprised at how friendly Thorn was to her, but took it in stride. The boy had always seemed a little fidgety, off on his own, but she had never really gotten to know him more than that. Being polite was a good trait to have, but you had to be able to hold your own in a faction like this. She wondered if that would work against him someday, like Finn's own soft heart had. Her thoughts wandered briefly to her brother. How was he? Had he gone yet?

Shaking her head, Harper realized she'd left him sitting there silently. "Yes, I'm good, thank you," She responded, a light smile on her face, "I hope you are prepared. And don't throw up like the guy ahead of you." She meant it as a joke, but it had still been gross.

Thorn was quiet as she quickly set up and administered the serum. She sat back and watched the screen as he passed out, her dark eyes flickering over the images. To her surprise, she herself appeared there, alongside of the other instructors. They appeared to be running a drill. Harper couldn't help but feel a little extra-invested in this simulation since she saw her own face reflected back at her. Did she really keep her ponytail that high? She frowned as Thorn began to notice something above him; were those squirrels? She could barely hold back a laugh. How interesting. Then, to her continued surprise and merriment, the squirrels began raining from the trees onto the initiates and instructors below. Thorn raced for his life, terror obvious in his movements. If the young woman wasn't so amused by the fluffy creatures and the very unique situation, she would have been a little appalled at watching herself be mauled to death. But by SQUIRRELS? She had to smile. Plus, it was really fun watching Ghost be ripped to shreds. Hey, maybe this would be a pleasant dream in her own mind.

Thorn himself was eventually killed and he awoke with a start. Shame was immediate on his young face. Harper did her best to bring herself to order, so he wouldn't see her smile. He apologized for his sim, and she shook her head, unable to control her grin. "Uh, well, definitely the most interesting one I've seen so far. Not sure how I would have gotten out of that situation either," She told him, "It was brave of you to save Charlie, though. Good job, even if the, uh, squirrels did get to you in the end. You're free to go when you're ready." She reached over to write something down, wondering if she was getting a little too comfortable with this group of initiates. She didn't remember talking this much before to them.

Whenever Thorn left, Harper cleaned up her room and collected all of her files. She'd have to turn these in, she supposed. The young woman left her room and stood outside it a moment to take a breath. A busy but interesting day. Was anyone else done?

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

 

[paralyzed]

Night Scott | Abnegation-born, Dauntless initiate.

Interactions: Bella/ MWMASkairipa

He had just put his feelings out there on a platter. This was dauntless after all though, maybe she would just throw it in his face like a pie and laugh at him. Was what he had just done brave or foolish, he wondered, while holding his hand out. Whatever it was, he had done it. If it could get him a new friend though, he was glad he did. His mind started to doubt his friendship-making skills as the seconds went by without a word from her. He felt his other hand begin to tap slightly against his side with anxiety. And then she reached out her hand and placed it against his palm, causing the anxiety to evaporate.

Night Scott had just made his first new friend in Dauntless. Or at least he had a chance to. He held her hand for a time. Say something, he thought to himself. A smile came across his face, “I guess we’re friends now.” Friends. What do you do with a new friend? Get to know them. Now how would one do that in dauntless, definitely not the same as you would in Abnegation. But actually, maybe it would be the same in a sort. No matter what faction you're in you still make a friend the same way, by being yourself and trusting them. Night had decided in his head, I’ll just ask Bella if she wants to hang out and see where it goes from there.

“Wanna go hand out some clothes to the factionless?” he chuckled, “On a more serious note, we should hang out sometime, get to know each other.” That would be fun, he thought. He had many questions he wanted to ask but didn’t think it was the time. What was she like, what did she like, and why did she join dauntless? He barely knew anything about Bella but was very interested to find out more about his new friend.

“So, what do you like doing here, in Dauntless,” he asked. “I personally enjoy the food a lot. Who knew something could have that much flavor.” He paused. “Anyways, I didn’t know if you wanted to hang out now or maybe later but I’m open the whole day.” He thought about the training schedule, “I don’t think we have any more training today.” Night stood there, watching Bella’s eyes. He was on his way to, he could feel it, making a good friend. One that would make his time in Dauntless a whole lot more enjoyable.

 

[jrink]

Somewhere between Fable's entrance and his amusedly said words, the other red-head exited. Dante didn't entirely blame her for it considering how much she'd mistakingly revealed to him, a perfect stranger. If he were to do such a thing Dante knew he'd probably be stressing right now, turning over every uttered word in his mind and weighing the ways in which they could be used against him.

Pushing those thoughts away as Fable's voice broke into the silence, Dante glanced down at the shorter girl, arm reflexively curling around her shoulders as she leaned back a bit. Although he wasn't typically the touchie-feelie sort, he made an exception for Fable who was the opposite in that regard. Besides, she was the one warm, comforting presence in this place where everything seemed intentionally put into place to be the opposite.

"Focus on what comes after, huh. Those are some wise words from a former stiff," he joked, "do you think you maybe went for the wrong district? You're sounding pretty Erudite to me today." that last stated sentence sobered the Erudite-born a little, eyes drifting towards the roofs edge once more to look beyond before his words continued half-heartedly.

"and screaming? It might help though I don't know if our vocal cords would thank us."

Glancing around briefly as if to verify no one else had made their way onto the roof, Dante breached a tougher topic.

"Also.. wee don't have to talk about.. the simulation now. But I just wanted to let you know I'm here if you want to," he bit his lip, pausing a moment to figure out the best way to articulate his next sentence. "like, I'm not going to judge you, and you don't judge me so.. And you're really the only person I'd really talk to about any of that stuff anyway."

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{ MOOD }
contemplative

{ LOCATION }
the roof

{ TAGS }
Sanctuaryforall1

Dante Aiken
erudite-born initiate

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[WanderLust.]

Blair Avalon // 16 // Dauntless Born // Initiate // Divergent
Interacting with: Ghost Aviator

Blair Avalon had not moved from her seat. In fact, the utter chaos that was unfolding around her had kept her glued to that that chair as if it were her only link to reality. She should've known the second she felt that unfortunately familiar pressure in the back of her head that something bad was coming. She thought back to the first time it had occurred, when she had shattered the window in the door of Christian's hospital room with out ever touching it. The rush of emotions had somehow transformed itself into a physical energy that Blair had no control of whatsoever. And yet even now, as the wind whipped through her hair and she pulled her knees into her chest, cowering away from her own destruction, there was a part of her that wanted to believe these strange events had nothing to do with her. She already had enough to deal with in her life with out having to worry about whatever the hell this was.

Blair had squeezed her eyes shut the second Ghost was thrown back into his seat. She heard the loud bangs of the chair hitting the floor, his strangled gasp for air, and yet she brought up her hands to cover her ears as if not hearing the horrible crashes would make them less real. It didn't. It was only when she felt a faint thump against the wall that her aqua orbs finally flicked open, a single tear streaming down her cheek that was quickly wiped away, a dauntless stigma, a force of habit that made her think tears were a sign of weakness. She noticed the scattered papers, the shattered screen of the monitor that had previously been displaying the results of her second aptitude test, playing cards strewn about the floor, some face up, some face down, complete and total chaos, and a single card, a joker, sitting on Ghost's chest. Blair slowly rose to her feet, her hand pressing over her mouth as she slowly began to piece together that she had done all of this, and her heart dropping into her stomach as, for a sickening moment, she began to wonder what exactly that thud against the wall had been.

She reluctantly allowed her eyes to scan over Ghost once more, he was pale as a... well pale as a ghost. His hair disheveled, his body nauseatingly still. Blair's hand began to shake as she took a tentative step closer to him, but once she started moving she couldn't stop. His eyes remained closed as she knelt down next to him, cautiously pressing the side of her head against his chest, listening, praying for a heart beat. She couldn't help the exhale of relief when she heard it, faint and uneven, but it was there. Knowing that, at the very least, she hadn't unintentionally killed her instructor, made her feel slightly less terrified. Then, just as if she were taking another aptitude test, she was presented with several different choices. She could wipe the computer while Ghost was unconscious, and slip away before he woke up. He would have no proof and she could pretend this never happened, surely the events that unfolded would leave him questioning whether or not he had imagined it all himself. But unfortunately, she knew Ghost, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before he found another way to corner her into confirming her own divergency.

Her eyes flicked to his gun, the one that had dropped to the floor the second she had lost control. Slowly she bent down to pick it up, spinning the barrel and tilting her head as she realized there wasn't a single bullet loaded. He had never had any intentions of harming her, and she felt stupid for thinking he would have. Clearly she was worth a lot more to him alive than dead, and that was leverage. Still, she clicked the barrel back into place, when he awoke, it would be one less thing she'd have to worry about as she tucked the gun against the waistband of her leggings. Plus, she had a feeling he'd go to great lengths to get the thing back. Blair ran both of her hands through her hair as she forced herself to take deep breaths. She couldn't lose control like that again, especially with so much on the line. She was taking a risk with Ghost, and she knew that, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice, she could've just killed him... maybe she should have, and maybe she would regret not doing so later, but the amity in her wouldn't let her do such a thing.

It was only when Blair heard a faint groan of pain, the sound of cards shuffling across the floor as Ghost attempted to sit up, that the blonde girl whipped around to face him. Her eyes reddened from the tears she had been holding back, but other than that, her entire face emotionless. She remembered the last question he had asked her before all hell had broken loose. When had she first known she was divergent? She didn't know, there was dauntless in her, so it wasn't as if she didn't fit in well with her fellow dauntless borns. Perhaps her grades should've tipped her off, she had always done so well in school, far better than any of her classmates. And her heart, it had always been to big for her own good, she had always seen the best in others even when it wasn't truly there. "I had suspicions before, but the test confirmed it." She spoke monotone, wondering if Ghost would even know to what she was referring to.

"I don't particularly like you, Ghost..." Blair was no candor, but this wasn't exactly a secret. "And it hasn't escaped my attention that you don't particularly like me either. But you need me alive, from what I can tell I'm worth almost nothing to you dead." Blair reached down to pluck the joker off of Ghost's chest, staring at it in her hand as if were something more than just a card. She paused, a long moment of silence stretching between them as she released the card and watched it flutter to the floor, her eyes never leaving it, even as it disappeared amongst the other cards that had been strewn about on the ground. "I'll help you..." she finally breathed "I'll answer whatever questions I can and take your stupid tests.... but I will not be held at gunpoint again, even with an unloaded gun." she huffed, reaching for the pistol until it was firmly in her grasp, she twirled it around, inspecting the craftsmanship, it was a beautiful weapon, she had to admit, but quite useless without it's bullets, which were now laying on the ground bent out of shape as if they had already been fired.

"I will help you on my own terms... and in return...." she shut her eyes, trying to find that pressure in her head again, she could feel it, that invisible energy spreading out around her, causing the numerous cards in the room to defy gravity as they danced slowly through the air as if putting on a show just for Ghost. When she opened her eyes once more, every single card froze in place "...you're going to help me figure out what the hell is happening to me." With out another word, Blair held out the pistol for Ghost to take, a peace offering of sorts, as she awaited his response.

Maverick Maddox // 18 // Dauntless Born // Instructor
Interacting with: Poppy Wolfiee (Bella Mentioned MWMASkairipa )

Maverick sighed as he clicked off the monitor for the day. Admittedly, he was exhausted, but he didn't know why. Nothing about today had even particularly out of the ordinary, perhaps he was just stuck in a rut? But how was that possible when his thoughts were constantly occupied by not one but two female initiates. Two beautiful girls in their own right that were both currently driving him insane. He took one of the water bottles that was normally reserved for the initiates after their testing and swallowed some down in an attempt to clear his head, but to no avail. What had happened yesterday with Poppy, their kiss, it was breaking all sorts of rules and boundaries, a point of no return had been crossed but he couldn't very well just pretend like it hadn't happened, not when those blue eyes were constantly in his peripheral vision. And Bella? What had been up with her this morning? The last time he had spoken to her she had made it pretty clear that she didn't want to talk to him, and yet... now it almost seemed like she was trying to tell him something.

He let out another heavy sigh as he clicked off the light in the room, rubbing his eyes and throwing his jacket over his shoulder. He did not hear the thud against the neighboring wall as he closed the door behind him. The corridor where the initiates normally awaited their testing was eerily empty. He had heard a few of the others talking about getting tattoos earlier, practically a dauntless tradition at this point, Randi and Jaxom, Aubrey and Finn, it seemed like Poppy's usual crowd. Perhaps he would find her there. In hindsight, Maverick probably should've taken some time during his long walk to the tattoo parlor to think of something to say to his childhood friend, the raven haired beauty that had kissed him not even twenty four hours ago. But his head was so foggy. He was just about to enter the parlor when he noticed a figure leaning against the side of the building. He narrowed his eyes for a moment as his pace slowed, his steps cautious until he could clarify who exactly was standing in front of him in this dark alley.

Her name left his lips before he could even process it, "Poppy?" he closed the distance between them almost too quickly, "what are you doing out here?" Why wasn't she in the parlor getting tattoos with her friends? When she didn't answer he tilted his head slightly, gentle fingers reaching out to grasp her chin, pulling her gaze up to meet him as he saw the dim light refract off of a single tear that was trickling down her cheek. "What's wrong?" his concerned gaze searched her blue eyes. Immediately he began to feel guilt, did this have something to do with him? He hadn't spoken to her since their kiss... was that what was on her mind? He should've said something to her, or maybe he never should've let the kiss happen at all. A relationship between an instructor and an initiate was expressly forbidden. Initiation was tough enough as it was, he should've just done as he was told, stayed away from her until she got through initiation, do his job as an instructor... not a love interest, and yet here he was, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "Talk to me..."


​

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Excited

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Poppy and Finn

As Aubrey rejoined the group Randi turned away from Finn to look at the blonde. While Aubrey did a good job hiding it Randi sensed that like all of them, she was likely not feeling one hundred percent right now after enduring her fear simulation. Randi swore she could still feel a slight burn in her lungs from her own fear sim which made her wonder what the others felt, what they had experienced. Her thoughts were shoved away by Aubrey and Finn holding hands. A slight smirk pulled at her lips as she looked between the two. “Come on cuties, let’s hit the road.” She purred at them.

Turning to lead the way towards her favorite tattoo parlor Randi couldn’t help but smile as she thought of Aubrey and Finn as a couple. Finn was so sweet and Aubrey had spirit, it was an adorable match that Randi hoped would work out for the best for both of them. What she and Finn had once had was fun while it lasted but, in the end, they made far better friends than they did significant others. Randi wasn’t good at being tied down and Finn deserved better than that. She was more than happy that he seemed to have found the affection he deserved in Aubrey.

Randi had to admit she was a bit sad that Poppy had decided to skip getting tattoos but she understood that sometimes the girl needed time to herself. Today was a rough day for everyone and each person had to deal with it in their own way. Turning to face Aubrey and Finn as they walked Randi grinned and pulled some sweets out of her pocket. “Catch!” She called out to them and tossed each of them a candy. “So, what are you guys gonna get?” She asked as she popped a lollipop into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. “I’ve had my heart set on a dragon for ages now!” She informed them with and eager skip in her step as she continued to walk backwards flawlessly.

As she spoke a new thought began to sprout within Randi’s mind. At first it was small like a seedling but as the girl continued to walk the thought grew into an uncontrollable jungle. I should talk to Ghost again. Her mind muttered to her. So much had happened in the time she had been in the testing room with him. It was pretty clear that whatever had happened between him and Leah weighed heavily on him and Randi couldn’t just leave him in the state he was in. As much as he tried to hide it she could tell when she awoke from her simulation that he was far from okay. Perhaps it was her fault, she crossed lines with authority figures constantly but none had ever reacted like Ghost. He was far from weak or vulnerable but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a few internal cuts that she had just rubbed salt into. I’ll find him later. We should talk again. She decided and returned her attention to Finn and Aubrey.

Interacting with Finn Baratheon Aubrey Nerdy.

Mentions Ghost Aviator

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Calmed

Location: With Dante

Interactions: Dante

Fable was beyond grateful that Dante was so willing to hold her. She knew that physical affection wasn’t for everyone but in this case, she was in dire need. She needed to feel something other than the phantom sting of the lashing she received both in the simulation and in her past. She knew that her shirt was thick enough to hide the ridges of her scars from Dante’s tough but still feeling the warmth of her best friends’ hands on her shoulders made the pain fade away like a bad dream in the morning.

“First of all, I was never a Stiff.” She muttered as she buried her face against his shoulder. After a heartbeat she glanced up at him with her ice blue and leaf green eyes, her brow furrowed a bit. “Even if I was forced to live among them for years.” She added. “And second of all, screaming is very therapeutic when mixed with warm tea and honey afterward.” She smirked with a knowing nod added to her words as though to prove that she couldn’t possibly be wrong.

Her playful attitude faded slightly as Dante brought up the simulation. Not wanting to look weak in the eyes of her best friend Fable pulled away slightly and straightened up as though seeming bigger would make the memories shrink away in fear. “I know you wouldn’t judge me.” She told him as she pushed her long flaming hair out of her face. “But I do judge myself. I don’t like to be weak…that isn’t the kind of person I want to be.” She uttered as though her words were half meant for him and half meant for herself. “Maybe another time?” She asked. She wasn’t totally opposed to telling Dante because she sensed that he wouldn’t tell anyone else about her simulations, she just couldn’t do it right now when all she wanted was to move forward and distance herself from that part of her life.

“What about you? Have you had yours yet?” She asked not sure if she remembered seeing him go into a simulation room while she was waiting or not.

Interacting with Dante jrink

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Aviator]

Ghost // Male // Age 18 // Training Instructor // Erudite to Dauntless
​

Ghost was usually a very light sleeper. An early adulthood of squatting with thieving crews had imposed that habit on him, where the price of a good night’s sleep just might have been a slit throat so that one crew member might rob another of his meager possessions. The Factionless were like the Dauntless that way: They both believed that you had no right to what you owned if you couldn’t protect it. Back when Ghost had been a Dauntless initiate, it hadn’t been uncommon for him to spring awake and grope for the knife he kept under his pillow four or five times a night in the barracks, alarmed by the softest rustle of blankets or another kid’s bleary footsteps on their way to the restroom.
But this was a whole other case. He found himself pulled up from the depths of sleep like a fish, slow and heavy and resistant. When he cracked an eye open, white-hot anguish poured in, making his head throb and his stomach flip. Through the tears that flooded his vision, a scene of chaos incarnate greeted him, with broken appliances and materials strewn about a white-tile floor at random like corpses on a battlefield. Then between blinks time seemed to skip ahead without warning, and suddenly a figure was looming over him, backlit so that only a silhouette was visible. But the fine angles of her face and soft curves of her body declared her a woman, of that Ghost was sure. Could it be… Margot? He tried to squint against the blinding light, but fresh pain knifed through his head. The pain was intense enough to muddle his feelings about Margot’s possible arrival. More than anything, he almost wanted it to be her, just to ensure that he would see her one last time before he died, but anticipation of her disappointment at the person he’d become extinguished his hope before it had a chance to ignite. “Margot?” he whispered to the shadowy figure crouched at his side, like a mystical harbinger of death. She had to know. “I’m sorry I ran away…”
Nothing Ghost saw made sense; of course Margot Whist couldn’t have appeared out of thin air. His body felt so heavy, his mind dull and cottony. He let his head slump against the cold tiles, light from above reflecting painfully into his eyes, and the darkness eagerly reclaimed him.

* * *​

The second time that Ghost slithered back to consciousness, it was to a firm pressure coiled around his ankle. Warm and fleshy against his bare skin, squeezing hard, five small points digging in. “Ten more minutes,” he mumbled to the maid come to awaken him for school. Ghost flopped onto his side and went to pull his knees up to his chest, only the hand around his ankle held firm.
Before he could question this, a man’s gravelly voice was snarling, “Up, dammit! Now, you candy-assed brat. Do not make me drag you by your hair.”
Ghost’s eyes snapped open, momentarily fixing on the ruddy face twisted into a sneer above him, but the pressure around his ankle tightened before he could catch more than a glimpse. The man wrenched, and Ghost’s nightshirt rode up his back as he was yanked forward and off of his bed. Blankets tangled around him, but they weren’t sturdy enough to stop his momentum. If he hadn’t been fully awake before, the jarring impact of the floor against the base of his spine did the trick. The backs of his eyelids lit up in painfully bright clarity as the man descended on him, scooping Ghost up and slinging him over a shoulder while he was still too stunned to protest.

* * *​

He awoke with a gasp. Ghost flung himself bolt upright, his chest heaving, only to fill with fear in place of air. He kept this up until his lungs were at maximum capacity and then some, ready to burst, and still he continued to gasp, endlessly. The scar on his chest stretched painfully to accommodate the unexpected volume of his breath, and Ghost was sure it would split open. Still, he could not stop gasping, not even when his hands flew to his throat and his eyes watered as he willed himself to breathe out. Ironically, he felt like he was choking, not for lack of air, but somehow for too much of it, and—
Suddenly his gasping cut off in a ragged cough. His chest hitched and sputtered, unsure how to react to this new demand. Ghost coughed again and shook with the force of it, as if a malevolent spirit were being violently expelled from his body. Once started, he couldn’t stop. Another cough clawed up his throat and then another, throwing him forward onto his palms. A spear of agony went through his side as the unrelenting series of coughs persisted. A metallic taste filtered through the back of his mouth, and with trembling hands, Ghost fished for his handkerchief and pressed it to his face just as a spray of blood dappled the cloth.
The sharp contrast of ruby on snow returned him to his senses. As his coughs lapsed into silence, Ghost’s head felt strangely light, as if it were an escaped balloon somewhere up among the fluorescent bulbs. I’m always dying, he thought, trying to remember when he’d had his last dose of lull and failing. Even if I take too much, it will never be enough, and then I’ll die. Strangely, though, he felt no sorrow as the thought crossed his mind. Not even grim acceptance. Just a cold, aloof matter-of-factness. Everyone had to go sometime, and fate had had ample opportunities to take Ghost earlier, perhaps during the home invasion in which his parents had been murdered, or during the numerous years he’d spent scrounging and stealing for survival. He considered himself a strange blend of cynic and idealist, and the bittersweet idea that you can always bleed a little more had been implanted in his brain at a young age. And so Ghost refused to feel sorry for himself.
A voice as cold as frost and curses cut through his internal musings. For the first time, it occurred to Ghost that he had no idea where he was, or how he’d come to be there. His eyes flashed to the svelte, blond figure dominating the room. Blair Avalon. She stood at the center of four clinical-looking white walls, and the floor was almost completely obscured by a makeshift carpet of scattered playing cards, broken shards of glass, and overturned chairs and tables, some of which were missing legs. Upon seeing her, Ghost startled, losing his balance and falling backward from a crouch. He landed hard on his hands, arms nearly buckling under his weight. Pain sliced through his palm. He knew he’d cut it on a sliver of glass, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Blair. Ghost had no idea what either of them was doing here, in a testing room presumably after training hours, but the fact that she was present while he’d been unconscious was unsettling enough on its own. Her words patiently replayed in his brain until they registered. Suspicions? Test? What is she…? Oh. Ghost’s memory clicked on an image of a straight-backed Blair clenching the arms of her chair, the feel of his own fingers loosely curled around a pistol grip.
It all came back to him. Within the next second, a thousand theories for his current predicament—having been launched through the air and overpowered by an unseen force—danced through his head. His mind scrambled, racing for an answer, and after another heartbeat, he’d narrowed it down to four possibilities: Blair, or someone else at her behest, had managed to slip something even stronger than lull into his coffee, and he’d hallucinated the whole thing; after years of mental abuse, Ghost had actually lost his mind and his reality couldn’t be trusted; Ghost’s card tricks had provoked Blair into wanting to prove that she was the superior magician, and she’d decided to flex on him with a mystifying illusion; or Divergents were a hell of a lot more dangerous than he had initially thought. That last notion did little to comfort him, and Ghost gave an experimental flex of his left wrist. Sure enough, the cold blade of the knife he kept tucked up his sleeve kissed his fingertips. Good, Blair hadn’t disarmed him while he’d been out. Based on the results of their last skirmish, he didn’t like his odds, but with the element of surprise on his side, he could at least try to fight his way out, if necessary.
While his brain worked furiously, Blair tilted her head at him. She studied Ghost for an extended moment, as if expecting an explanation for the violent ailment he’d undergone a minute ago. He didn’t offer one. Unlike many people, Ghost rarely ever felt the need to justify himself. Seeing that he wasn’t going to answer, Blair plowed on. As she talked, he continued working on his private theory as to what the hell had just happened. Perhaps he was just being hopeful, but he decided to cross off the possibility that he’d gone mad, and these were all the imaginings of a lunatic. He had to trust his senses and accept what they were telling him as truth, because the alternative was too horrible for Ghost to believe. If he really was insane, then this likely wasn’t his first delusion, and that thought prompted far more questions than it answered.
Could it somehow be true that Blair had overturned the entire room without lifting a finger? Was that what it meant to be Divergent—having incomprehensible power at one’s disposal? In an absurd, unbelievable way, the idea that Divergents were capable of developing preternatural gifts made perfect sense, more than Ghost had ever thought possible. Because, whether it corresponded with the laws of nature or not, it would certainly give Young an irresistible motive for wanting to collect them. And it would make trying to leverage Blair into doing his bidding a hell of a lot harder than Ghost had expected.
Blair trailed off, her offer of collaboration dangling in the air. Ghost scowled, suspicious. This wasn’t where he’d expected their conversation to go. While she talked, Blair had idly drifted closer, until she was standing directly over him, close enough that her breath stirred the hair hanging across his forehead. Pins and needles arced through Ghost’s legs, uncomfortably folded beneath his body as they were, but he ignored them as he watched Blair with an analytical eye. She bent down, hand flashing out. Ghost refused to be frightened into submission and forced himself not to react. Except for a light brush of fingers against his coat, she never touched him. Instead, Blair’s hand closed over a scrap of paper that Ghost had previously failed to notice was balanced on his thigh. No, he realized on second glance. Not paper, but a card. A black-and-white joker, depicting a mostly naked man in a jester’s hat with his head thrown back, laughing maniacally, a pointed devil’s tail curling around his feet. Blair examined the card with a disdainful expression, before letting it slip through her fingers and helicopter to the floor beside Ghost. When her gaze flitted back to him, as if to gauge his reaction, he just met her eyes silently. Unflinchingly. Expressionlessly.
Finally, Ghost cleared his throat and decided to test his voice. Mustering as much dignity as a defeated combatant sprawled at his enemy’s feet could—even though he wasn’t sure that the spontaneous manifestation of superpowers counted as a legitimate victory—he said dryly, “Oh, is this your way of saying that, without my superior intellect and machine-like capability, you’d be helpless? Please, feel free to speak your mind.” He wasn’t in the habit of smiling, so he didn’t now, leaving Blair to decide whether or not he was joking. Contrary to her implication, Ghost didn’t care if he was liked or loved, so long as he was effective at whatever he set his mind to. If he was the one calling the shots, he could make others like him.
His exterior was as smooth as the undisturbed surface of a pond, yet on the inside Ghost was railing. This is such bullshit. Everything about this is bullshit! I had her right where I wanted her, he seethed. How could anyone have predicted this outcome? Nonetheless, the proof that his faculties of sarcasm were still intact was a small reassurance; Blair’s apparently telekinetic outburst—if Ghost dared to believe it—couldn’t have shaken him up that much. With that in mind, he unfolded his legs, ignoring the cramps that flared as blood returned to them, and clambered to his feet. The process was excruciating. Lightning bolts of agony sizzled through his skull, and he resisted the urge to clamp a hand over the welt that must have formed where his head had contacted the wall. When he inhaled, a sharpness passed through his side, but Ghost had cracked enough ribs in the past to know this wasn’t that. He’d probably be left with a massive bruise for a few weeks, was all. Burdened as he was, a less graceful man might have stumbled or collapsed, but a childhood of compulsory dance lessons had trained him well, and he kept his footing, gritting his teeth to keep the pain from registering on his face.
All at once, the various cards strewn about the room shook themselves free of whatever debris they might have been pinned beneath and rose on invisible strings, so that they were levitating a good inch off the ground. So, Blair could control her Divergent gifts. It made Ghost wonder if this wasn’t her first time using them; she had seemed vaguely surprised by her previous outburst, but what if that had just been a front? In unearthly unison, the floating cards began to slowly rotate in the air. Ghost saw the gesture for what it was: a warning. He had risen from the floor to find himself standing a mere foot away from Blair, in much closer proximity to her than he would have ever neared another person of his own volition. There was a reason that Ghost preferred long-range fighting, or knives with a generous reach. Still, he didn’t relinquish ground. Instead, he tipped his chin up at a defiant angle as he stared his adversary down, as if to say, Telekinesis or not, I’m not scared of you. Unless… what if telekinesis wasn’t the extent of Blair’s powers? Was there more she could do? Stuff that could screw with Ghost on a psychological level?
As Blair released her hold on the cards, letting them fall to the floor, Ghost decided not to dwell on that terrifying possibility. Doing so would definitely drive him off the edge of sanity, if he wasn’t already there. To distract himself, he reconsidered Blair’s proposal of what sounded like an alliance between the two of them. So that’s why you didn’t kill me when you had the chance, he thought, staring at Blair as if she were a fortress, and he was devising a plan of attack. Because I’m useful. You know I’m better at finding things out than you. Ghost approved of her logic. No matter how despicable, people were often more valuable alive than dead. However, he still thought that she was being too trusting; if their roles were reversed, Ghost would have ensured that he had some kind of leverage to buy his silence and protect against a double-cross, be it a scandalous tidbit of information or a bribe to sweeten the deal. Because by letting him live, Blair Avalon was keeping his knowledge of her darkest secret alive and well, too, and it sounded like she was solely relying on the strength of Ghost's conscience to not sell her out. But he wasn’t about to give her reason to reconsider when there were a plethora of much worse alternatives for him.
He weighed his words carefully before saying, “You are a worthier opponent than I initially gave you credit for, Miss Avalon. Consider me impressed.” As he spoke, Ghost straightened his trench coat and the waistcoat beneath, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves. Disheveled clothes were an indignity suffered by lesser beings, and he wasn’t about to look like roadside scum when making what possibly might become one of the most important deals of his life. “I accept your offer to collaborate out of mutual interest. Rest assured that I have very resourceful methods, and if anyone can uncover whatever dark forces are at play here, you’re looking at him.” Satisfied with the state of his clothes, Ghost had moved on to finger-combing his hair back into some semblance of order, and winced when his probing fingers encountered the fresh cut on his scalp. He examined the blood on his pale fingertips as he continued, “I apologize for trying to impose my will on you so viciously. However, I do hope you realize that this conspiracy is so much bigger than either you or me, and I want to be clear that nothing will stand in my way from using it to orchestrate the demise of the faction system.”
After his coughing spell, Ghost’s voice was low and rough but unmistakable in its conviction, like a hint of woodsmoke on the air. He was sure to speak in an undertone; the roaring din of Blair’s ripping the room to shreds had been anything but inconspicuous, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that the walls had ears. Blair’s cerulean eyes narrowed to slits as she searched Ghost’s face, as if trying to sniff out a trap. Or perhaps she was looking for a telltale glimmer of better intentions, evidence that he wasn’t as unsavory as she had first judged. If that’s the case, you can stop looking, he scoffed to himself. I’m just as incorrigible a sinner as any other human being. Probably more. Yet, a strange expression clouded Blair’s elegant features, and a moment later she extended a certain pearl-handled pistol to him. The Wicked Sister with which Ghost had threatened her. Yes, he thought, his hypothesis from earlier confirmed. She is far too willing to trust for her own good.
He paused, wondering if this was a test, because that was the only way Ghost would have meant such a gesture. His hands remained at his sides. If this wasn’t a test, then it was charity. Pity. And that bothered him infinitely more. He wasn’t willing to accept handouts from friends, let alone from those whom he viewed as tools. Somehow, taking that gun from Blair’s grasp would have felt like signing his own surrender, an admission of defeat, and Ghost was too prideful to ever give up when there was still fight left in him. “No,” he said slowly, relishing the look of surprise that flickered over Blair’s face. “You keep it. Pearl suits you.” He gave a nod of approval. There. Now Ghost felt as though he’d found his footing within this conversation, retained some degree of control. After giving him a measured look, as if expecting Ghost to be joking or to change his mind, Blair reluctantly tucked the Beretta into her waistband.
“I’m afraid that there is one small catch to our partnership, though,” he blurted while he still had Blair’s attention. She glared, and Ghost couldn’t resist feigning an innocent little shrug, as if to suggest that he had forgotten to mention his terms earlier. Steeling himself against the pain in his ribs, he made a wide gesture that encompassed all of the room in its deplorable state. “The price of my silence is you helping me pick all this shit up.” Since it is, after all, your fault that it’s here was the implication that Ghost didn’t say aloud.

* * *​

The work was long and harrowing, and by the end of it, he could have gone for a joint. Ghost couldn’t say that he’d been prepared for a telekinetic meltdown, but it wasn’t uncommon for initiates to vomit upon awakening from their fear sims, sometimes missing the trash can, so his room was amply stocked with cleaning supplies and can liners. Even in situations not so dramatic as to warrant vomit, Ghost was not one to tolerate uncleanliness or disorder. He held his personal environments to the same impeccable standards to which he held himself, as Blair Avalon quickly found out and was probably internally cursing him for. After repeatedly correcting her repositioning of those items that could be salvaged, she and Ghost eventually worked out an arrangement in which she picked stuff up off the floor and passed it to him to file as he pleased. Ghost didn’t say as much, but this method suited him well, since his head still hurt like hell, and quickly bending and straightening made the world dip and sway around him.
At one point, as Blair was unceremoniously disposing of the broken monitor, Ghost looked up from his task of mopping up the bloodstains on the floor and sighed. He knew the expense for the new computer would be coming directly out of his paycheck, not that it would be too devastating on his finances. Upon receiving his payment from Young, Ghost’s first item of business had been to invest in all kinds of stocks and bonds, because if there was one thing he had his father to thank for, it was instilling in him an acute mind for finances. Already, after only two weeks, he was making copious returns on his investments, and for the first time in a long time, Ghost had disposable income—lots of it.
It was a strange feeling of tranquility, to not have to worry or fret over money, and how he would afford the astronomical price of his life-sustaining medicine next week. Once or twice, it had even occurred to him to perhaps quit his instructing job and seek more meaningful work, since it was clear that his current salary was just drops in the bucket of his savings. However, the thought of Charlie stopped him each time. Whenever would he see her, if not at work? What excuse would he be able to conjure? That, and he knew a sudden up-and-leaving of his job would raise too many questions, and Ghost’s under-the-table assignment from Young wasn’t exactly legal. Best not draw attention to himself for the time being.
Perhaps he would quit before the start of next year, when doing so would be less conspicuous. You assume too much was the thought on the heels of the former. He was taking as fact the notion that he might still be alive by this time next year. That line of thinking was never a guarantee for anyone, but especially not for the terminally ill, when a part of Ghost wondered darkly with each changing of the seasons if this one would be his last. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he had a long list of enemies who were eager to mark on their calendars the day he would meet his reckoning. Between Blair’s impromptu fit of telekinetic rage, his to-the-death knife fight with Bastian Hunter, the potential danger of Jeremy Daniels discovering that Ghost was the one to break into his house, the necessity of breaking his contract with Jiao-Long Young, and Randi hunting him down earlier today, it seemed as if a new person was out for Ghost’s blood every day.
One laborious hour later, the room was sparklingly clean, if somewhat noticeably sparser in furnishings. After sustaining a broken leg and a conspicuously dented surface, the desk would need replacing, too, as would Ghost’s numerous coffee mugs that had been shattered inside their cabinet. Blair looked expectantly at Ghost as he surveyed the room, as if waiting for him to dismiss her, and for the moment, he contented himself knowing that she still recognized him as a source of authority. He never would have agreed to her idea of a pact if it meant being her lackey. Bad enough that he was already doing Young’s dirty work, even if it only appeared that way.
Ghost nodded at the state of the testing room and turned to Blair. “Tomorrow,” he drawled in his customary quiet, unhurried way, “I’ll need to talk to you. Alone. There’s still a lot you don’t know, Miss Avalon, and we’ll have to discuss our next moves from here. I’m afraid that our enemies’ plans are advancing at a rapid rate, and we don’t have the luxury of sitting back and letting them take the fight to us. If you don’t want to end up as someone’s lab rat, we’ll need to get our hands dirty.” Blair didn’t object, but she didn’t look particularly thrilled at that sentiment, either. “Meet me on the rooftop tomorrow morning, twenty minutes before training’s usual start time. Don’t be late,” he warned.
A curious thought occurred to Ghost just then, and he paused. Unconsciously, he started to reach up to examine the aching wound on the crown of his head, but he caught himself, and tightly folded his arms to keep from doing it again. “Back to what you said earlier, about not liking me. Tell me, Blair,” he mused, testing the name for the first time, drawing out each phoneme. His gaze found hers and penetrated. “Your initiate friends. Christian. Do they understand you? Can they understand you? And, can a man love something he doesn’t understand?” Ghost raised a dark brow, wordlessly prompting her answer, aware of her decision to shoot Christian in her aptitude test. She had killed him, simulation or not.
Before she could answer, however, a choking cough tore free from Ghost’s throat. It came so suddenly that it left him weak in the knees, and he threw out an arm to catch himself on something, anything, but there was nothing around. He crumpled, knees hitting the floor hard, where he continued to cough, his chest rattling, breath grating harshly, eyes clenched shut. A moment later, he heard Blair cry out. A quick patter of footsteps, and then there was the light pressure of a hand on his shoulder, the tickle of long hair brushing his cheek. Grateful for the help, Ghost looped one arm around Blair’s waist, and when the coughs seemed to be abating, allowed her to pull him to his feet. Of course, she’s only helping because your skills are a convenience for her. Not because she actually cares about you, Ghost reminded himself, though really it went without saying.
He tried to speak but initially produced no sound. “Thank you,” he finally croaked, after much clearing of his throat. Ghost leaned on a wall for support, still breathless. Blair hovered, concerned, a little too close for his liking. He shooed her away with an imperious flick of his hand—it may have been years since Ghost had lost his family’s fortune, but his inborn arrogance could not be so easily taken away. “I’m fine,” he pronounced in a way that shut down any further discussion on the matter, questions or otherwise. “Please—get out.” His expression was subtle but firm, hinting at his waning patience. Blair’s face hardened, clearly not liking her dismissal, but she complied. The door banged shut behind her, and Ghost listened to the decrescendo of footsteps receding down the hallway. After a thirty-second count, he reached into a deep inside pocket of his trench coat and withdrew the pearl-handled pistol of which he had divested Blair during their exchange. With no one around to see, Ghost allowed his lips to curl into a poisonous smile, pleased with himself. It had been an award-winning piece of acting.
A good pickpocket doesn’t just take; often, he’ll leave something behind. That way, his mark would still feel the impression of something where her stolen valuable had been; that way, she didn’t realize it was gone until too late. Ghost crossed the room and plunked a black sharpie marker into a pencil holder sitting on the countertop, since his desk had been destroyed. Sometime later, Blair would discover that, tucked in her waistband where a gun had once been, was now a box of cards. When opened, the first card she would see was a joker, signed in an elegant cursive flourish, But it suits me more. It was true, though; black was a prominent color in Ghost’s wardrobe, and when paired with his anthracite hair, the Beretta’s pearl handle was especially striking. He stroked its barrel lovingly before holstering the Wicked Sister at his belt with its twin.
However, the gun wasn’t the only thing he’d lifted off Blair. In addition, he’d unclasped a bracelet from her wrist and swiped that, too. If she wanted that bracelet back, she wouldn’t forget about their rooftop meeting tomorrow morning. It had been a while since Ghost had last taken multiple items off a single mark, but old habits and all. He felt good to be back in the game. Ghost didn’t like being made to feel helpless, and usually, when confronted with a formidable opponent, he attacked first, simply to remind himself that he would never be that way again. He locked the door behind him as he departed the testing room and sauntered down the corridor. His destination was the training arena, because the development of an alliance between Blair and himself had set Ghost's mind abuzz, and he suddenly had a burst of energy to work off. That, and because he had to discipline himself to become stronger than his wounds. As he walked, he rubbed his thumb over Blair Avalon’s pretty bracelet. You might have your tricks, clever girl, he thought, but just remember: I have mine, too.

 

[MWMASkairipa]

~She was powerful, not because she wasn't scared, but because she went on so strongly, despite the fear~
~Atticus~
Bella Quinn | 16 | Transfer Initiate | Amity
Friends... it was such an interesting concept. The idea; a companion that would stick with you through the highs and lows of life. A true friend wouldn't judge you or leave you because of your past, or criticize your amount of baggage. Was he prepared to get to know the real Bella Quinn? The Bella Quinn who had enough insecurities to fill a small house, the Bella Quinn who barely slept more than a few hours a night, the Bella Quinn who spent her free time ruminating and brooding over her lack of confidence... was he ready for that? When he found that girl amongst the read hair and sapphire eyes, what would he say, when he realized she wasn't the quiet, happy, kind, collected little Amity girl that everyone thought. Over the years she'd gotten good at acting, putting on a mask to hide from people back home what was really going on at home. Nobody would dare raise accusations against her father without proof, and if his daughter seemed unconcerned, why would they be?

Letting her hand slip from his grasp, she wrapped her arms around her midsection again, sapphire gaze shifting elsewhere than the tall Abnegation transfer. His words almost made her laugh, to be honest. That was such an Abnegation thing to say. Personally, she'd never been super keen on handing out anything to the Factionless. She may be kind and compassionate to the less fortunate, but they always creeped her out. Not because they had no Faction or anything, more because of their staring eyes when you'd pass them by, almost like they were glaring or promising vengeance. It unsettled her.

His next question caused her eyes to widen a little. What did she like to do? Honestly... she had no idea. She hadn't really had much of an actual chance to do much else besides train and when she wasn't training, she was too drained to put in the effort to actually go do things. "Um... I guess I like walking around outside, just... being outside in general... back in Amity that was where the majority of our time was spent. I guess it's just a... nice little reminder of my previous Faction." She'd wanted to say home... but to be honest, she never truly felt at home there. She didn't even truly feel at home here, but... at least she had someone to talk to. Which reminded her, she did need to find Maverick later. She... still felt pretty awful about yesterday. She needed to apologize and... maybe explain some of her feelings towards him. Hopefully.

//Interactions: Night paralyzed ​

 

[Nerdy.]

Charlotte "Charlie" Stark || 20 || Dauntless Medic || Dauntlessborn

Charlie had made her way successfully to the infirmary, she finished putting things away and cleaning up in much too fast a time, for as she finished she realized there was an entire day left with nothing to do. She chewed the inside of her cheek lightly as she hovered near the door, she could try and find Ghost... But she wasn't sure if she really wanted to, the last thing they'd had together was an awkward date, and she wasn't ready to go through that again, if he wanted to come to her, then he would, and if he didn't want to? Her heart squeezed painfully, but she bravely took a breath in. She didn't own or control Ghost, he was his own man and she was little more than a novelty in this faction. Realistically. She considered looking for Caspian, since Ghost had declared that they had gotten into a fight, she was worried for his health, but she knew that Caspian would be angry if she did that, if she "checked up on him" he was so proud and so strong that anything like that would be weakness for him. That thought made her sigh deeply, and she felt a pain in her chest as it reminded her of how far she had come from her bestfriend, he had helped her into this faction, her home faction, when she might otherwise have been kicked out. Yet he seemed so far from her, and she wasn't sure she could find him. He wasn't the same. Losing Alice, then Maggie, had been hard on him, and she felt like she couldn't bear to see him in this state, and he couldn't bear to see her.

Get yourself together Charlie. The medic shook her head, pulling her fingers through her dark locks, and twirling her hair between her fingers. Sucking some air between her teeth, and resisting the urge to put a lock of hair in her mouth, she decided she could at least go for a run, help herself stay fit and keep an eye out for Ghost... or anyone else that may want some company. She pulled off her jacket, wearing a black singlet underneath, she was aware that her bruises were faded yet not gone, so those who looked closer might be able to see, however, they weren't so dark as to be noticeable now. She would be able to lie and say they were from training. Putting on some running sneakers, and tying her hair into a bun, she started off her jog, right outside the infirmary. Her jog/run was rather nice, her body ached immediately as it was lacking sleep and food, but she carried on, her body could handle it. She ran outside for a while, allowing the cool breeze to whip past her cheeks, but eventually the breaths she was taking was too hard to breathe, as the air was cold and hurting her chest, so she circled back indoors and ran inside. Her legs on fire by this point, and a thin layer of sweat residing on her tanned skin, she was just rounding the corner when she ran straight into a tall, muscular boy.

Charlie let out a little grunt as her legs slipped and she toppled to the side, she tried to catch herself but it wasn't her own doing that kept her feet on the ground, rather, the tall, muscular and tattooed boy, Jaxom, reached out and gripped her by the shoulders, keeping her steady and on her feet. His grip was strong, hard, firm, though not painful. Yet, all touch was somewhat painful in the small medic's eyes. She shivered, looking up at Jaxom with dark chocolate eyes. She stepped back, allowing his hands to fall from her shoulders. "Thank you.. I'm so sorry for running into you, I wasn't concentrating." She apologized. Instinctively her hands reached around to hug her arms, naturally trying to cover any bruises, yet she hoped he just couldn't notice the old ones that had faded. Yet her arm still had an angry red scar from where her dad had thrown a shard of glass into it, and embedded it into her skin. It was jagged and on the inside of her arm. "Are you alright? Not hanging out with any of the initiates?" She asked Jaxom.

Interacting with: Jaxom Wolfiee

Aubrey Amber Stark || 16 || Initiate || Dauntlessborn

Although holding Finn's hand was somewhat embarrassing, and Randi's comment almost made her rip her hand out, Aubrey dared to leave her hand in Finn's, just a while longer. It was nice, it was comforting, and it was completely... utterly... platonic. Right? It had to be. She couldn't... She looked at Finn, wondering if it could ever happen. He was handsome, cute, fun, funny, her best friend and the person she hoped to spend all the rest of her days with. But... That didn't mean she loved him like that did it? What if they had to compete and fight each other? If they were friends that was fine. Yes, they were just friends, and friends sometimes comforted each other through bodily contact, such as hand holding. Aubrey sighed gently, glad she could talk herself back into a comfortable place. Finn squeezed her hand and she warmed at his touch, yes, her bestfriend was the best. They walked along quite happily, her, Finn, and Randi. Randi talked about what she wanted as a tattoo, and Aubrey mulled that over in her mind. She already had a few tattoos. But she definitely always wanted another one. They were a lot of fun and she enjoyed getting them. She caught Randi's candy, taking her hand out of Finn's to do so, and popped a lolly in her mouth, enjoying the sweet sensation of it melting in her mouth. "I think I might get a dagger, on the inside of my arm. I like knives, and I'm good at them, so it would be kinda cool. I can always add to my back tattoo though, but it might look a bit crowded then." She laughed, throwing her hair back and smiling at Finn gently, before looking back towards Randi. "I feel like a giant jewel, surrounded by snakes and fire, is about as crowded as I can get, so maybe sticking to something smaller is a bit better. How about you Finn?" She asked, looking at her best friend happily as she wondered about what he could get.

He would look pretty cool with anything, she wondered what she would do if she could choose to do one on him. He was very good at fighting so she wondered if she could think of something to do with that. Then she though of something and began to giggle outrageously. Finn seemed to stare at her in confusion and she doubled over laughing, before regaining her composure slowly and grabbing onto his arm to lift herself back into a proper standing position, wiping slight tears from her eyes. "I... I was just thinking, imagine if you got a tattoo of a ghost, and then of you beating it or something." She began to giggle again, and knew how silly it sounded. "it would be hilarious! So daft but also really good." She punched him lightly on the shoulder, hoping that he knew she was mostly joking. She wanted to know what he would get however, and wondered if it was anything along the lines of her thoughts.

Interacting with: Finn Baratheon Randi Sanctuaryforall1

 

[Baratheon]

Finn Day

Finn couldn't help but flush as Randi called he and Aubrey cuties. He took his other hand and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the red that suddenly blossomed across his face. Were they cute? Really? Kind of a dream come true for someone else to see that. He, of course, had always known Aubrey was cute, but for Randi to say the same... he appreciated it. He almost gave her hand another squeeze, but suddenly remembered the situation they were in. He nearly let go, eyes wide. She was almost in tears and how cute they were was all he could think about? What a great guy he was. Invalidating a girl's emotions was not the way to her heart. "Sorry." He sighed, now more embarrassed by that then what the other blonde had said. Yikes, he hoped Aubrey wasn't mad.

A quick glance as they began to walk showed him that she wasn't mad. In fact, she seemed to be glowing as well. Had she taken the compliment in good humor? Did he dare think she liked it? His smile crept back onto his face and he turned his head to hide it. Maybe some good could come out of today. He would always be there for his friends. especially Aubrey, when they needed him to be. He would give anything for her. Even, maybe, winning this initiation. Their constant teasing over being better than the other in the past seemed so useless now. She was fighting hard for this, and he didn't even belong. He would defer to her in any situation. Selfless, yes, but who he was.

As they walked on, the silence grew. Each seemed to be in their own thoughts. Aubrey, obviously struggling. Poppy ran off to who-knows-where. Randi seemed to be thinking hard about something. Even he found himself wondering what would happen for the rest of initiation. His secrets, Aubrey's secrets, the battles each of them had to face. They were still technically kids. Wasn't this a lot to put them through? But Dauntless was just that: a battle. Every day they had to defend and protect and be strong. You had to start learning that somewhere, and he supposed now was a good time. Finn was strong, he was protective. And yet part of him longed for peace. Wouldn't it be nice to just rest for a day? A week? Maybe go wandering in a flower field, watch a sunset, go see the ocean, wherever that was. He felt like since the beginning of initiation, the rollercoaster of his life had only been speeding up. He'd been so excited to begin, to prove himself, to fight and to win. Now Finn just wanted it to slow down. He missed playing with Aubrey and Phillip and Harper out in the city, exploring and wasting the day away. Now he was growing up, and not only that, hiding who he was growing into. It was a lot to bear on such young shoulders.

He was brought back to reality by their arrival at the tattoo parlor. Funny, he didn't even realize they'd made it this far. Aubrey started chatting on about what design she wanted. Finn found himself smiling as she spoke, laughing as she mentioned how crowded her skin was getting. Still beautiful, even with the designs decorating her.

"Oh, uh, I was thinking like dragon wings on my shoulder blades. I don't have much back there yet but it would look pretty sweet," He replied, smiling wide. He had actually just come up with it on the spot, but really did like the idea. He had his crown on the back of his neck and the birds on his forearm. Dragons would be a welcome addition to that, he thought. Aubrey nodded with his idea, then began to simply die laughing. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Was she laughing at his idea? No, no, she was... "Me beating up a ghost?" The moment the words left the boy's mouth he began to laugh too. How would one beat up a transparent ghost? He didn't know, but Finn found himself laughing more and more. What would Harper say? What would- what would Ghost say?! Oh, that was good. "I th-think I actually r-really like that!"

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

Harper Day

Harper made her way back home and se the testing results on her desk. She would get to them later. Sitting in a room all day was not something the soldier was used to and she needed to get a good, long workout in. She changed into more appropriate gear and left her sword lying on her bed before exiting her room. She tied her hair back and glanced up and down the hall. No one. Very quiet on compound today, even from the kids. She hadn't run into any of them despite their freedom for the rest of the day. As long as Finn was mostly staying out of trouble. With a quick breath, Harper began her jog around the Dauntless facility.

Her workout would eventually lead her to the training room, where she found no one. Interesting. Certainly someone needed to exercise or train during the day? Or was Dauntless just getting lazy? She rolled her eyes and found a set of bars to work with. After a few minutes of stretching and getting some water, Harper turned to face the bar. It was above her head; she was tall, but the bar was taller still, just out of reach. With a small hop, the woman grabbed the bar and began a set of pull-ups. It was moments like these she envied Finn's strength with gymnastics. She was probably overall more powerful than he was, but his nimble body had always given her reason for jealousy. He would be swinging around on these things no problem. Ugh, boys.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

 

[xayah.]

LEAH YOUNG

erudite to dauntless | 16 | initiate​

Retreating back to the initiate barracks for a quick reprieve, Leah slunk out of the training hall. She wasn't close enough to any of the other initiates to talk about what she saw in her fear simulation. Being drunk with Aubrey showed her that even the strongest alcohol couldn't compel her to spill her darkest fears which meant that being sober would definitely not. Opening the doors just a crack, Leah's petite but graceful frame allowed her to slither through. Light as a feather, she practically pranced her way to her bed and began looking around for a piece of paper and pen. The plan Ferris had told her was slowly fading as her brain decided to proritize the simulation it had just spectacularly failed. The cold fear that overtook her for a brief moment when she woke up from the simulation was similar to what she was beginning to feel in the barracks. After a brief search, Leah found a small slip of paper and a pencil next to some initiate's bed. She took it—swearing to return the writing utensil later—before sitting on her bed and scrawling down a few notes.
The unsettling feeling in her body seemed to fade away and be replaced with self-disgust at her own handwriting. It had only been a few weeks, but Leah felt strangely unfamiliar with a pencil. Her writing was similar to that of chicken scratch in her eyes which was much different than the elegant, flowy papers she'd been writing in Erudite. Maybe it was for the better. If someone found it, worst case scenario, it'd be somewhat unreadable. Near the end of the note, in somewhat large letters, she wrote down Alex's name and circled it multiple times. A few smaller question marks were added for good measure. Ferris' name drop made no sense, even if it was made in a joking manner. The two despised each other, and after Visiting Day, Leah was certain the mutual feelings were amplified. Ferris was also the type to avoid his problems until they were no longer able to be dealt with. Surely, Alex wouldn't be visiting. Even though he was the son of Erudite's strongest family, even he would have to go through initiation.
Leah laid down on her cot, legs dangling over the edge, and stared at the note. The plan was silly, but it was likely to work. Ferris, at the very least, was a schemer. He definitely wasn't the most trustworthy or the most strong, but that was the one thing Leah had faith in. It was a bit sad to think about. How the two of went so quickly from childhood best friends to lost souls in the same faction together. One addicted to a chemical compound she had never seen or heard of in any textbook, and one rebelling against her parents in the most cutthroat faction. A small scoff escaped Leah's lips at how pitiful the two of them were before she sat up in her bed and folded the note. Then, she tucked it under her unworn clothes and returned the pen to its rightful place besides another initiate's bed. Making an enemy of someone over a borrowed pen would be ridiculous and embarrassing.

 

[paralyzed]

Night Scott | Abnegation-born, Dauntless initiate.


Interactions: Bella/ MWMASkairipa


So she’s from amity, his mind brought up everything he had learned about the faction that embodied peace. Images of people clad in orange and other autumn shaded clothing surrounded by nature passed through his mind. He thought about the resemblance between the colors the amity wore and the hair Bella had. Then again her hair also reminded him of fire which was the symbol that represented Dauntless. He could imagine her amongst the vibrant hues of nature and his mind wandered towards wondering what her reasons for leaving it were. The main reason he left Abnegation was because he was bored? Was that a good enough reason to leave his family behind? Maybe not but it was his life and he had been given a choice to decide how it would be spent, he chose Dauntless. Now he would have to stand by his choice to join dauntless and succeed at training, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a normal kid at the same time. One who had friends and enjoyed his life, because it was far from being over.


“So, you like being outside,” he thought out loud. “That’s great.” He realized that the Dauntless compound was probably pretty dull compared to Amity, not as much as Abnegation though. Visions from his past faction were revived in his brain but it all played out as if it were a black and white film. Colors dull and lifeless. It felt as if by enjoying his life in Dauntless, by creating a new one, it was erasing his past, his family. Night suppressed this type of thinking, forced himself to concentrate on the present. After all, what good could come from it, he had to put his new faction before blood if he ever wanted to truly be free. Faction before blood, he thought, only then can I truly be Dauntless. Snapping back to the time being, Night looked at Bella. "It must be a big difference in the scenery here from where you grew up. Far less earth, only the occasional tree. I guess that's the cost of following your dreams, but hey at least there's still an abundance of fresh air." He said taking a deep breath of the not-so-fresh air of the inside of the compound. "Speaking of fresh air, we should get some sometime together. That is, unless you had somewhere to be."

 

[jrink]

Dante almost regretted the subject change as Fable's gaze shifted from the normally bright blue and green to a slightly more dulled shade of the latter colors. He hadn't meant to bring the mood down, but considering how low his simulation had brought him, it probably should've seemed obvious that it would do the same for her.

"You know, I've never seen you as weak," he offered casually, eyes brushing over the ground with just a tinge of that awkwardness Dante usually associated with this kind of conversation, "so, maybe.. maybe stop listening to that little voice or whatever it is in your head telling you otherwise and just listen to me. I've give great advice, or so I've been told."

When Fable brushed over his simulation in efforts to change the conversation, Dante found himself nodding reluctantly, a 'yea' fluttering from his lips but little more than that. He didn't really want to push anymore on the subject he could tell was still a sensitive one for the red-head, but maybe they could another time when it was less raw, less of a downer. Instead, Dante found himself pushing his thoughts elsewhere, a mischievous smile begin to tilt up the corner of the Erudite-transfers lips.

"I've got an idea," Dante threw out, though that was the only hint he gave the red-head as he backed up from the roofs edge to somewhere near the middle, near the door. Bending his knees and positioning his left foot a little more in front then right Dante took a running start towards the roof opposite them. The wind beat against his chest, his hair, as Dante sped up until he'd reached the edge of the roof, then jumped.

Those couple of moments where his body sliced through the air like a knife, any thoughts he'd had of the simulation, of the stress of the moments before, fell from his mind. He could just focus on the cool air, the euphoria of the moment. Bracing himself for impact and fighting the initial urge to do the cool thing, more dangerous thing, which would be to curl his body into a roll on impact, Dante allowed his feet to carry him into a run that slowed the longer his feet moved. Once he'd came to a stop, Dante turned to glance at his best friend, his lips creased up into an excited smile.

"C'mon, I'll race you..," Dante offered, though his thoughts weren't exactly stuck on any particular location to race too. Just getting away from all this seemed enough, at least for now.

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{ MOOD }
contemplative

{ LOCATION }
the roof

{ TAGS }
Sanctuaryforall1

Dante Aiken
erudite-born initiate

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[MWMASkairipa]

~She was powerful, not because she wasn't scared, but because she went on so strongly, despite the fear~
~Atticus~
Bella Quinn | 16 | Transfer Initiate | Amity
He wasn't wrong. This place was far from what she was used to in Amity. A part of her wished she could romp around in red or orange or something brighter than this black and gray but she also had no desire to stick out more than she already was. She was already teetering on the edge of the rankings. The last thing she needed was to be targeted for her clothing style. She had to admit, she did miss the bright abundance of joy in her birth faction. She missed running around in fields of flowers, sneaking out to hang out with Ben beneath the willow trees... before everything began with her father, when she was innocent, untainted. Back during a time when she was pure. Now, she could only dream of that kind of carefree joy that her younger self had carried so proudly. Her faction, while representing compassion and kindness, it held its own secrets, secrets that could one day be its downfall.

The small redhead regarded the tall Abnegation transfer with varying levels of curiosity and suspicion. Nobody had approached her yet and actually meant to hang out, especially not the guys, aside from Ben and Maverick. Her mind could not help but wander, however. Were his intentions really pure? Did he really intend just to get to know her, or did he desire something more than just an innocent walk outside. With that in mind, she still nodded a little, lips quirking ever so slightly in the suggestion of a smile. "Um... y-yeah... I could go for some fresh air... I... don't have anywhere else I need to be... right now anyway..." she mumbled, slender arms wrapping around her stomach.

As she followed the tall initiate outside, her mind went to Maverick, remembering the night of Blair's birthday party, the fight that ensued, the glass she caught in her hand... how tender his touch had been, his lips against her palm... she looked down at her feet to hide her blush from Night. She'd been having more of those kinds of daydreams lately. What would it be like to spend the night with someone who actually cared? The experience she'd had in that area was from her father and he... hadn't exactly been the best role model. She really needed to apologize and fix things with Mav before she could even consider anything else. It was oddly comforting to think about though; how it would feel to be trapped in his embrace, how his lips would taste on hers, how his hands would feel as they held her close... it was all wishful thinking, surely. The way he looked at her today wasn't at all comforting, but... maybe if she fixed things, or made an effort to... maybe things could still change?

//Interactions: Night paralyzed ​

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Excited and Apologetic

Location: Tattoo Parlor and Training Center

Interactions: Aubrey, Finn, and Ghost

“I could honestly see that for you too!” Randi laughed as Aubrey and Finn discussed the idea of him getting the ghost tattoo. “If you do line art style you could have a little stick version of you fighting with some cute little weapon too!” She thought aloud before returning the sucker to her mouth and enjoying the sweet cherry flavor as it rolled across her tongue. “And honestly Aubrey your back tattoo sounds sick! I would totally go with the daggers on your arm because those mixed with your back tat would make you look like a total badass babe if you ever wore it with an open back cropped tee.” The platinum-haired beauty mused as she looked at Aubrey and nodded her head in agreement with her own words.

As the trio made their way down the sidewalk Randi began to bounce with excitement as her favorite tattoo parlor came into view. “Oh my god! I am so excited! I haven’t gotten new ink in ages!” She gasped and rushed towards the doors. “Come on guys!”

Once inside the process was simple and familiar, Randi could do it in her sleep if she wanted to. She walked up to the front desk of the shop with Aubrey and Finn and listened in as they each told the artists what they were looking for. Randi had been in a few times over the past several weeks tossing ideas around with the artists who she knew all too well at this point. She had sent them a few sketches that they stored for her until she made up her mind which they all knew could happen at the drop of a hat. Once Aubrey and Finn had chosen their design the Randi walked with the back to the studio where several seats and tables were set up beside different artists' stations.

Randi was quick to reveal hop up on the table and lift her shirt in order to expose her side to the artist who went to work making her tattoo sketch a reality. The young blonde had thought for a while about this tattoo and put a lot of effort into it. She wanted it to be something that she felt was unique to her and her spirit which meant this sketch had been through the wringer. Eventually, Randi managed to find a way to express herself that felt like true perfection and she would be happy to carry on her side for the rest of her life. The tattoo was that of a dragon twisted and tangled between two roses, a beautiful nod to her parents as well as an expression of her spirit.

The sting of the needle was refreshing after the day she had been through and everything that happened in her fear simulation. She was almost certain that her two fellow initiates would agree that the sweet sting of the needle sure as hell beat anything, they had been through in the visions they saw. Honestly, Randi loved the feeling of getting tattoos, it was something that had never really bugged her even when it was on a sensitive area or took hours of sitting still, these were some of the few times she didn’t feel the need to fidget.

As the artists finished their work Randi hopped up and tied her shirt into a makeshift crop top in order to fully examine her new ink. With a bright smile painted upon her face, she showed the tattoo off to Aubrey and Finn excitedly. “Oh! Show me yours!” She demanded and looked in awe and appreciation upon their new body art. “Those look so good!” She beamed as she examined them closely. “I think they are honestly perfect for you two!”

With the adventure to the tattoo parlor winding down Randi couldn’t help but return to her thoughts from earlier. It was much easier to think things through now that she had this out of her system and her mind could settle a bit. Jade eyes swooped around the room as Randi searched for a clock. Finally, her gaze settled on one resting above a piercings board and after reading the time the young initiate realized that she still might be able to find Ghost if she left soon. “Hey guys! I just remembered that I needed to go deal with something. Thanks for doing this with me. Maybe we could all grab drinks later tonight?” She suggested to the two cuties as they began to exit the shop.

Not long after that, the platinum blonde was once again on her way back towards the initiate training center. Her hands were braiding and unbraiding her hair as she walked and her mind was racing a thousand miles per hour trying to figure out her feelings and what she wanted to say to the man she had been so pissed off at when she woke up this morning. Making her way down the halls of the building Randi kept her ears open as she tried to figure out where Ghost might be hiding. In the distance, she could hear footsteps echoing down the abandoned hallways and picked up her pace to try and find the person making them. Turning a corner Randi spotted the familiar figure of Ghost halfway down the hall. “Hey! Wait up!” She called to him as she picked up her pace a bit. “Bet you thought you were rid of me?” She joked trying to ensure that he knew she came in peace this time.

Looking up at him the young blonde became a bit more serious, her smile still there somewhat but having faded a bit as her eyes expressed her feelings better than her words likely would be able to. “I don’t feel right with how we left things earlier.” She sighed and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “I mean…I guess I was pretty harsh and I didn’t know the full story and I still don’t…” She trailed off for a second as she tried to find the right words. “I guess what I am trying to say is that I’m sorry.” She admitted finally, her jade gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to his face.

Nerdy. Baratheon Aviator

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Comforted

Location: Roof Top

Interactions: Dante

Fable couldn’t help but give a somber chuckle that turned into a near genuine laugh as she listened to Dante’s little pep talk. He somehow always knew what to say to make a situation better. She wasn’t one to often show when she was upset but around Dante, it was a bit easier since he never seemed to judge her. They had only known each other for a short amount of time and yet in Fable’s mind, he was one of the most trustworthy people on the planet.

“Thanks Dante.” She muttered softly but her multicolored eyes showed how truly grateful she was for his efforts to improve her mood and boost her ego. “I’d give your advice on average a four-point five out of five stars if we are being honest.” She joked giving him an attempt at a playful look as she tried to push past the negative feelings that were nagging her. “I mean you did suggest a drunken three-legged race that ended up with us in a dumpster…so that is gonna count against you.” She pointed out with a gentle laugh laced into her voice.

She could tell that his simulation wasn’t something he was all too interested in talking about either so when he gave her the sort answer Fable didn’t press further. She wasn’t sure if it had just bugged Dante that much or if he was worried about upsetting her when she was already dealing with her own demons. Either way, she was thankful that Dante seemed to want to move on from the talk of trials and find something else to occupy their time. She just hoped that he knew that she was always there for him if he needed someone to confide in. Fable wanted him to feel the same sort of comfort in her that she felt in him. They were friends after all and their support needed to go both ways, not just him holding her up but her doing the same for him.

When Dante declared he had an idea Fable thought at first that he just meant going to get food or drinks. She had to admit that she was not expecting him to go racing towards the edge of the roof and launch himself across the gap between building towards the roof on the other side. She gasped and then laughed as he hit the other side running, only slowing to a stop to look back at her and suggest they race.

Instantly Fable was backing up to give herself some space to jump before charging forward, her arms pumping at her sides as she sprung off the roof and cleared the gap below her. Her feet hit the solid surface of the neighboring roof as she ran over towards Dante, an excited smile painted upon her lips. “You’re on!” The fiery-haired female declared.

jrink

code by Stardust Galaxy

Thorn

Mood: Focused

Location: Streets

Interactions: Blair

It had been a long day and honestly, Thorn was still rather embarrassed by how pathetic his fear simulation must have seemed. He knew that his fear wasn’t of squirrels, he actually really liked the little tree fluffballs, so he didn’t understand why his fear had to appear in such a ridiculous way. The half-blind dauntless born knew what the simulation was really displaying, it was a show of his fear of being eaten alive. Ever since he was little Thorn had been plagued with nightmares of being in a sedated or helpless state and having some monster feast on his flesh while he could do nothing to stop it. The idea of being torn to pieces and unable to help himself was one of his worst fears.

As the young curly-haired man walked another block, he did his best to distract himself from his thoughts by twisting the tiny wires of his latest creation. The little metal tree was shaping up nicely and Thorn couldn’t wait until he had it perfect so he could turn it into a pendant. The way the dim lights of the dauntless compound flickered off the smooth bronze surface reminded Thorn of the setting sun hitting orange leaves in fall. It was beautiful and brought a slight smile to his lips. He could only hope that someday someone might appreciate the simple beauty of it in the way he did.

For a dauntless born Thorn knew he was more than likely seen as a coward since he refused to fight or crave violence like so many others. As far as he was concerned, however, he was not a coward, at least not most of the time. Recently he had made a cowardly mistake that he knew would cost him for the rest of his life. He had chosen to give in to the fear of how his father and uncle would react to the idea of him choosing Amity and thus stayed in Dauntless, the one place he knew he would never belong. He was always the one avoiding the fights or taking the beatings. It wasn’t because he couldn’t fight back though, it was because he didn’t want to. Thorn was more than capable of defending himself but in his mind, violence only led to more violence so he would do his part to end the cycle with him. It made him a disgrace.

As his fingers twisted and pulled another wire branch into existence the young man was so focused, he didn’t even think about where he was going anymore. It wasn’t until he felt himself run into someone and stumble backward that he realized how unaware he had become. Reacting as quickly as he could the boy dropped his project and reached out to try and catch the girl he ran into before she hit the ground. “Oh shoot! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you okay?” He asked and apologized all at once with dark eyes wide with worry.

WanderLust.

code by Stardust Galaxy