Fandom Divergent: Faction Before Blood // RP Thread

[xayah.]

LEAH YOUNG

erudite to dauntless | 16 | initiate​

There are moments where the mind, maybe even the spirit if you believe in that, disassociates from the body. During these moments, the mind is carried away, floating on a stream of thoughts that have nothing to do with what's happening in the present. Meanwhile the body is just frozen, unable to move in response to the stimuli around it. This was the only way to describe how Leah's current state. Slowly opening her eyes, the Erudite princess found herself in the backseat of her family's luxury car. The windows were slightly rolled down, letting a small rain make its way through the vehicle and lightly mist the fabric of the dress she was wearing. Despite the sudden reappearance in Erudite and lack of family or personnel in the car, Leah was strangely content with her surroundings. Nothing felt suspicious enough to raise her suspicions. Instead her attention was focused, as if compelled by some outside force, on two figures that she could discern anywhere. She'd associated with them too many times to count. At every party, dinner, gathering, and meeting, Leah danced with the smaller of the two figures and played verbal politics with the taller of the two. The Jacobis had always played the role of the picturesque family with a hardworking father who earned all his achievements, a loving and caring mother, and a definite heir to take over their Erudite business. As a result, seeing the head of the Jacobi household scorn his own son was strange. The small wisps of their argument that found its way over to Leah's ears almost didn't seem like they could have come from that family. Calling his son an "abomination" and even speaking ill of the dead; if the words were striking to hear from her perspective, she couldn't imagine how Ferris was feeling. She also didn't imagine him lashing out against his father who was... dead. The revelation, combined with Ferris' outburst, somehow drained all the energy from Leah. She felt her eyes fluttering slower and slower as Averill Jacobi turned whiter and whiter. Then, it was all silent.
What seemed like the end was just the beginning. She felt her consciousness being dragged through a stream of thoughts, specifically fears. When Leah's eyes reopened, some new incident always seemed to rear its ugly head. First, it was seeing a literal dead man, unlike Ferris, rise again and almost disown his son. Then, it was Blair, but... whatever this was wasn't Blair. There was almost a cruel, sadistic element to the questioning, and although Leah didn't know Blair that well, she could still tell those weren't traits the blonde Dauntless born possessed. Unable to move from her position in the corner of the room, which was out of sight of Ferris, Leah tried her best to zone out. Information may be power, especially if it's information on people you have a grudge against, but gaining it in this way was just revolting. It felt like a violation of the faint bond the two of them had left.
As much as she tried, Leah knew valuable information when she heard it. She couldn't stop herself from listening to his greatest regret, and somehow, it made her angry. No, disappointed? All his actions up until now were just his way of repenting? He sure was doing an awful job of it. For every kind or benevolent act he did, Leah could name two or three things that negated his goodness. As Ferris broke out of his bindings, Leah slipped further into the shadows and against the wall but felt herself falling through it.
Ah, this was where she had first heard the voice. She had materialized into the hallway of a simple homing unit that was neat but somewhat uncomfortable. There was something about being too cleanly that naturally made people tense. Unlike the previous two incidents, the passenger in this fearscape found herself alone. Ferris was nowhere to be found. Instead, she heard the sound and smell of cooking as well as the voice of a little girl. Turning her head, Leah found Ferris awkwardly patting the child and being greeted by Charlie. In the first place, it was wrong to intrude into someone else's home, although Leah had no idea how she got here, but it was even worse to intrude into the house of married couple. The memory of kissing Ferris weighed too heavily on her, and combined with the sight of Charlie and the little girl walking out, Leah's stomach dropped. Something wasn't right, and she almost had half a mind to check the door they had exited for any sight of them.
Before she could do that, she found herself having the strangest out of body experience. Leah was alive and well, but in the bathtub, that Leah was not. The sight of blood never made her queasy, after all being exposed to medicine and anatomy was part of her Erudite studies, but there's a difference between blood in a vial and watching your body bleed out. Ferris couldn't even see her, alive and well, as he sank into the crimson puddles on the floor. Shutting her eyes tight, Leah couldn't bare to watch or listen. This was worse than Blair's interrogation. This might have been Ferris' nightmare, but it was just as bad for her.
When she felt her eyes throb and her vision shift colors, Leah reopened her eyes. Now, it was Alex smirking with deadly intent, and Ferris in another vulnerable state. She almost couldn't recognize her brother as he taunted and verbally abused Ferris. It was an exchange of wits and snide remarks, and Ferris was losing. Unwilling to watch her brother or Ferris fight, Leah tried to move, shout, do whatever to get them to stop, but nothing came out and nothing moved. As Alex prepared for the surgery with reckless abandonment, Leah grew more frantic. Something had to get them out of the situation.
That something was apparently an explosion. Leah woke up with a start, almost reflexively patting herself to check for burns. Her heart was racing, although she didn't know whether that was a lingering effect of the fearscape or the effect of waking up from the serum. Looking across from her, Ferris seemed haggard and almost broken. His eyes were aimed solely at the ground as if it was taking time for mind to catch up with everything that happened. Leah, now feeling more grounded in comparison to him, strided to his side and squatted, trying to get a better look at him. Seeing him vulnerable was as rare as it was jarring, and although he had taken her through his fearscape as the first step in mending things, Leah didn't feel like consoling him. There was too much distance between them, and some of the things in his fearscape made her more hesitant to reconcile with him. Nonetheless, Leah also didn't the opportunity to taunt him at his lowest. She simply sat there besides him in silence, not daring to say the first word. What are you supposed to say in this instance?

 

[Nerdy.]

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

Charlie had been walking happily towards the training room, when she was interrupted from her thoughts and current path by the handsome, tattooed, Candor initiate whom she'd spent time with yesterday; Jaxom. She smiled brightly, genuinely glad to see him, but her smile wavered as she noted his concerned face and the way his body was positioned - being Candor, she found he was currently easy to read, but she found that to be something positive rather than a weakness - he seemed worried, ready to jump into a fight and also unsure about whether something was wrong or not. She tilted her head, lips parted slightly and arms wrapping around her middle protectively. What was wrong? She hardly managed to get out a "Good morning Jaxom," before he spoke, she listened intently, her eyes widening and her body posture becoming rigid, rather than relaxed as it had been before. Ghost and Leah were together in one of the simulation rooms? Why? She knew Leah and Ghost had history, both being from the same faction and Leah knowing Ghost's real name showed that they had a lot more history than one could presume. Why was Ghost sneaking around with his old Erudite faction member, and in a simulation room of all things. She closed her parted lips and frowned, nibbling gently on her bottom lip. Something seemed amiss and she wasn't comfortable with this feeling inside her chest, it seemed to seize up and tighten when Jaxom talked about his concerns. She glanced towards the room he spoke about, it was not far away. "I will look into it Jaxom... You don't need to come with me, though thank you for the offer; you should get ready for training, as it won't be simulations today." She said, smiling at Jaxom, hoping he wouldn't follow her as she went to check on Ghost and Leah. She began to walk towards the simulation room, painfully aware that Jaxom had not moved and was watching her do so, she was unsure of why the Candorborn initiate seemed intent on looking out for her currently, and his genuine concern, but she did not hate it, it was just a little awkward in this situation. She nibbled on her lip some more, beginning to chew on the insides of her cheek. The thought of Ghost doing something with Leah was... awkward to say the least, whatever it might be... She took a deep breath as she stepped towards the door.

That, is when Thorn, in such timely manner, interrupted her. Hearing her name she turned around almost too fast, the lack of nutrition and sleep in her, plus the raging pulse that was her anxiety, causing her to feel lightheaded for a second, and her body swayed as if to fall. However she planted her feet firmly and quickly steadied herself, looking at Thorn almost guiltily. What was he doing here? She smiled though, she hadn't spent much time with Thorn recently, but they had spent a lot of time together in the past, she had an inkling of his situation at home, even if he hadn't told or hinted about it, she could tell. From one abusee to another, she could tell when something was off, and when she looked at Thorn right in front of her now, her smile disappeared, her eyes widening as she looked at the multitude of familiar bruising and cuts were evident on him. "Thorn.. What.." She didn't get a chance to ask what happened, as he surprised her with the gift of something he had made. She was almost speechless as he told her that she had inspired him and she gently took the package from him, unwrapping the beautiful creation. "Oh my... Thorn.... This is beautiful... I.. I don't know what to say! Thank you." Charlie breathed these words out as she gazed in absolute wonder at the beautiful hand crafted pendant of a tree, much like the one she had tattooed on her wrist, made out of metal and on a fine necklace. "This is exquisite Thorn! You have an amazing gift... You're sure I can just keep this?" She clarified, looking into his friendly warm eyes, Thorn nodded, affirming her that she should and had to keep it, as he made it for her. She smiled widely, her heart warming and her anxiety melting away as this delightful distraction temporarily distracted her from her former plan of looking into the simulation room at Ghost and Leah. "Would you put it on me?" Charlie asked Thorn, passing him the necklace and turning around, moving her dark locks away from her neck so that Thorn would be able to clasp it on to her. She shivered as his fingers, slightly calloused and tough from working the forge so much, brushed against her neck and collarbone, but as the necklace sat around her neck, she again began to smile, so much so that she found she could not stop. However, she was still concerned with Thorn's injuries. "Thorn... You are hurt..." She said as her smile faded, the gentle kindness inside her wanted to reach out and hug him, but the paranoia and PTSD inside her kept her back. She sighed softly, looking at him with care. "Please... Don't let this happen again Thorn.. You can reach out for help if you need to. I'm always here." Though she knew Thorn was probably not going to do that, she wanted him to know he could. Instead, she reached up to touch the cold metal of the pendant, tracing the lines of the tree with her finger. "Thorn, have you met Jaxom? I'll introduce you two." Charlie said, motioning for Thorn to follow her, she turned back to see if Jaxom was still there, and thankfully he was. Walking over to him, she smiled. "Jaxom, have you met Thorn? He's a good friend of mine. Now... I need to go but I thought you two might want to warm up before training today, I know Aubrey and a few others went for a run. Don't be late though." Charlie had no idea if Jaxom and Thorn would get along, but she hoped so, Jaxom was turning out to be a friend that she would add to her list of people she trusted, and Thorn had always been there. So she hoped very much that they would enjoy each other's company. She waved goodbye as she walked towards the bathroom, still keenly aware that she needed to check on Ghost and Leah, she didn't want to do so infront of Thorn, unsure of what was happening in that room, and knowing that Thorn might not want her to put herself into any unsafe or bad situation.

Entering the bathroom, Charlie quickly walked towards the mirror, to take a look at the pendant that now hung around her neck. It was stunning, breathtaking even, and she gazed at it, it was perfect. She smiled, and then sighed. What was she meant to do about Ghost and Leah, was it even her business? Yet... something needed to happen, whatever they were doing, they shouldn't be alone in a simulation room when the rooms were out of business... Besides, when Jaxom pointed out to her which room it had been, she knew for a fact that it was not Ghost's. It was Maverick's testing room. Why would he be in there? She chewed on her lip, her eyes going over the beautiful handiwork of the necklace. She didn't want to check on the simulation room if Thorn and Jaxom were still there. So that would be her indicator.
Exiting the bathroom, she walked back towards the training room, again passing Thorn and Jaxom; they were still here, so she would wait till later to check on Ghost and Leah. That was fine. She blinked slowly, glancing at the simulation rooms as she passed them, and then continuing on towards the training room. She needed to make sure that someone had set up the room ready for training with the initiates.

As she stepped into the training room, she noted that it was already tidy and set up. Immaculately. Who... Her eyes swiveled as she look at Harper, noting the female instructor was herself exercising and getting ready for the day. Harper also saw Charlie, and stopped her vigorous workout, instead coming towards the medic and initiating conversation. "I was just checking to see if the room was set up, and I see you've done a great job of setting up. No thanks to the boys." She said, referring to Ghost and Maverick's obvious disappearance and lack of help in this all-for-one today. She began to check if all the equpiment was out properly as Harper continued the conversation, and she listened gently. Why was Harper concerned about Ghost? To Charlie? Did Harper suspect Charlie and GHost had some sort of thing going on? And what if she did? WHy did Charlie feel almost guilty for that? She and Ghost were both equals and adults in Dauntless, there was nothing wrong with them... seeing each other... She still felt an unusual guilt about it however. As Harper asked about training, Charlie finished checking all the equipment. "I don't train as much as I should, except for running. I probably should get back to training, I just find I run out of time after sorting out all the injuries and medical things that happen in this compound. I'd love to train with you sometime though, it would be good to get back into shape properly." Charlie smiled warmly at Harper, although she usually wouldn't be so open about talking about hanging out with someone, she felt comfortable with Harper, having been friends with the female instructor for some time, and heavily impressed and inspired by just how well Harper managed to get through initiation, as well as her amazing ability to be a beautiful woman whilst also a complete badass. Charlie suddenly slapped her hand to her forehead, as she realized she had left her medical bag in the bathroom. "I am sorry Harper, I need to go get my medic pack, I left it in the bathroom. I'll start rounding up any initiates I see, it's about time to start." Charlie nodded to the attractive female as she exited the room.

Seeing Jaxom and Thorn, she nodded towards the training room. "You guys should head on in, training is about to start. Might be good to get a heads up with what's going on, and some time to stretch and warm up." She said, as she herself rushed towards the bathroom. Arriving there, she reached down and picked up her bag, again glancing in the mirror to admire the pendant, before exiting and going back towards the training room. However, she noted that now Jaxom and Thorn were gone, and the simulation room door was still closed. G host and Leah were still in there. Swallowing nervously, her heart once again pounding inside her chest, she made her way over. As she got closer, she noticed that the door was not completely shut, it was slightly hinged open, enough for her to gently tap it, opening the door enough for her to see inside. What she saw made her heart squeeze and almost a nauseating feeling erupted inside her stomach.
In the room, Leah crouched so close to Ghost that Charlie initiately thought they were entangled together, in some sort of strange embrace, however once she had looked closer, she could tell that Leah was just very closely in front of Ghost. She couldn't see what Ghost was doing from here, was he smiling? frowning? awake? in a simulation? was he doing something with Leah? Charlie took a deep breath, whatever was happening, she felt compelled to stop it.
She opened the door, trying to pretend that she had no idea people were in here, and looked at the two, especially Leah who's head snapped in an almost guilty and shameful way to look at Charlie. And then... was that... a blush on Leah's cheek?? Something about seeing Charlie seemed to be strange for Leah, though Charlie herself could not tell what that was. "Leah... Training is about to start. You should probably hurry to get there in time." Charlie said, her voice unusually awkward and cold, she felt immediate guilt at that, knowing it was unfair to place her assumptions on Leah for whatever was happening here. She watched as Leah looked at Ghost, back at Charlie, and then obediently left.
Charlie herself stared at Ghost for a few seconds before closing the door firmly, and turning around. "What was going on in here?" She asked, the question pointing at Ghost accusingly.

Interacted with: Jaxom Wolfiee Thorn Sanctuaryforall1 Harper Baratheon Leah xayah. and Ghost Aviator

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

Aubrey ran like her life depended on it. She could hear the boys feet hammering the ground behind her and that spurred her on to get even faster and further ahead of them. Her legs moved like wired machines, her arms swung like the arms of a railway cart on the wheels. Her breath came in and out perfectly in time with her running. So she was surprised when Night came running beside her, still behind her, but enough so that she could see him. She wondered how come he had outran Finn, and that's when she heard the scuffle behind her. Night must have heard too, because he slowed down, and she dared to glance back to see what had happened. She glanced back in time to see Finn's body roll and skid to a stop on the concrete. The sight actually made her sick, his body almost helpless as it tumbled like that. Night seemed to falter in his running, as did Aubrey, and she felt as her own feet felt unsteady, clumsily pattering across the ground and she tripped as one foot actually kicked the other. She skidded to a stop, looking back at Finn. Was he okay? Night also slowed down. Aubrey jogged back towards Finn, watching as he slowly sat up and brushed the stones from his outfit. He was okay... that was good. She sighed softly, coming to a stop, bending over to heave in some breaths. "You alright?" She asked Finn, as she stood there catching her breath. Finn nodded, laughing slightly as he winced simultaneously, obviously still in pain. She winced too, looking at the grazes that now covered his body. Night had joined her side, asking about whether Finn was alright, and offering his hand to help the boy up. She felt guilty now, that she had not done that, and also offered her hand, Finn laughed, claiming that he didn't need both of them to help him up, but for the joke of it, or maybe because he did, he grabbed both their hands as they yanked him to his feet.

"Well I'm not sure who wins then. But we should probably head back soon, training will be soon. I was planning on taking the train to make it faster, you think you can..." Before Aubrey could even finish her sentence, Finn declared that he was fine and began to run, obviously still hurting and slightly favouring one of his legs, he raced towards the train track. She shook her head, her laughter rising in the air as she took off after him, assumedly Night following them. "You're an idiot!" She yelled out at FInn as she caught up to him, though admittedly didn't overtake him because she wanted to make sure he was still fine. He grinned at her, and she grinned back. They ran, the three of them, towards the train tracks not far away, the sound of the train in the near distance showed that their timing was impeccable, and as they began to run alongside the railway track, the train blared it's horn and began to whisk past them. "Five carriages down, open door!" Aubrey managed to yell over the sound of t he train, and Finn nodded. As that fifth carriage came into view, speeding up from behind them, Aubrey sped up in front of Finn and leaped into the air, grabbing onto the train door handle and pulling herself inside. She turned around without another thought and grabbed Finn's hand, pulling him in. She went back to pull Night, but watched as he was able to jump up himself, pulling his own body into the train cart. They'd made it.

Aubrey began to laugh, and she gently punched Finn on the shoulder, smiling at both him and Night. "Well, that was exciting! Hope you're both ready to get beaten again at the all-for-one today." She joked, well... seriously joked, looking at the two boys in front of her. The three of them all laughed and caught their breath, their bodies sweaty and exhausted from the run. As they waited for the Train to get closer to the compound, Aubrey stared outside, sitting near the open door of the train. "I wish we didn't have to do those simulations, they seem... stupid." She said, shivering as she recalled the ones she'd dealt with already. She felt like she was so afraid of everything. At least that's how it felt inside the simulation. She looked at the boys, who both seemed to silently agree with her. She looked back outside, seeing as their destination was coming up. "Hey! Time to abandon ship boys! Let's gooo...." Aubrey finished her sentence by leaping off the train, onto the rooftop of the compound. Her feet hitting the ground she managed to stay running, rather than rolling, although the shock that went up her legs almost made her want to collapse. She gritted her teeth, and ran, hoping the boys were right behind her. She ran until she came to that familiar hole in the roof of the compound, where they had originally started initiation after jumping off the train. The hole with the net at the bottom. Soon enough NIght and Finn joined her side, and they both looked at her inquisitively. "Alright boys, last one down buys drinks later." She suggested, her eyebrow raising slightly, looking at the two boys in front of her. There was always the fear of no net being there, but that was almost an impossibility, the net was always there. Wasn't it?

Interacting with: Finn Baratheon and Night paralyzed

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

Chris had not done much while waiting for Blair. His whole mission for the morning had been to spend the morning eating breakfast with Blair and hanging out with her up until training. Yet she had something to do, something about her Divergency. Chris had not wanted to let her go, but she had been honest with him, so he had decided to trust her with that and let her go. He gave her a kiss goodbye, wishing her well and hoping that she enjoyed the coffee and bagel, before making his way in a different direction.
He wandered a little aimlessly just jogging through the compound, when he saw his brothers drinking coffee outside of Oscar's work. Chris jogged up to them, and they greeted him warmly. Jacob giving him a side hug and ruffling up his hair, whilst Oscar just nodded happy to see his younger brother. As Chris stood there, he felt like he was being watched, when out of nowhere he felt three bodies suddenly leap onto him, and he stumbled for footing, trying to stay standing. The three bodies were his brothers daughters, his three nieces. "Uncle Christian!!!" Three young female voices chimed loudly in his ears, and he laughed warmly, trying to reach round to grab them off of him. Being so tall they loved to use him as a climbing tree, and he tried to get them off of him as a game. They giggled as one by one Chris managed to grab each of them and put them down, finally being able to stand still without three girls on top of him. Once they were on the ground, they ran forward and gave him a tight hug. "Hey Sherrie, Joan, Hailey." Chris said with a warm laugh, tightly hugging them until they squealed and asked him to let go, also all laughing. Oscar and Jacob watched their daughters play with Chris with a warm smile. Although Christian had a problem with his anger, his brothers had always trusted him with their children, although not without supervision. Yet they never ever thought he would hurt them. Nor had he ever shown any indication of doing so.

Christian played with his nieces for a little while, before their mothers, Brianna and Pitera came to pick them up for school. They pouted, saying they wanted to go with Christian to become Dauntless, but Christian just laughed, saying that they'd all be able to do that soon enough. He gave them each a hug, espeically little Hailey who was only 4 years old, picking her up and spinning her around. She had golden curly hair just like him, and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, causing Chris to blush furiously at such affection. Pitera laughed, picking Hailey up and telling her to say goodbye, being only 4 she didn't go to school but would be with her mother all day. "Bye uncle Cwisten." She said adorably, and Christian waved as they walked off with Oscar and Jacob too. He smiled, turning around and making his way still around the compound. Continuing his jog.

It wasn't long before he heard some other footsteps behind him, and he turned around, stopping in his tracks as he saw Blair running towards him. His smile blew up and he enveloped her in his arms, nuzzling his nose deep into her golden hair. Thought it wasn't long before she fought her way through his arms to bring him into a deep kiss. He melted into it, his hands caressing her face as he felt her body press into his. The feeling of her in his arms was just so perfect that he couldn't bear to have her leave them again. "How did.." He began to ask about how her time went, when he heard the voice of Poppy yelling over the distance, telling them to get a room. He sighed, wanting to know what Blair had gotten up to, but also chuckled, unwrapping from Blair's arms just enough to be a little less awkward, and smiling at Poppy and Randi who were on their way over. Blair blushed deeply, and yet also laughed. The two of them joined Poppy and Randi, and they suggested for the four of them to hang out like they had in the past. Christian was more than happy, provided Blair wanted to as well. And they all went off on their merry ways.

They seemed to go towards one direction, before heading towards the chasm. The sound of the roaring water was as normal, but all was not as normal.
What alerted him was the scream, from somebody in the group, he presumed to be Blair. His eyes were drawn to the body that lay down at the bottom of the chasm. He didn't recognize the body at first, and he didn't really want to. Instead he pulled Blair close his body, shielding her eyes from the sight. Chris was no stranger to gore, violence or even death. His mother had died when he was 6. But this was not the same. This was suicide. Whether the suicide was out of pure fear of helplessness, or whether it was some foolhardy decision to try and jump the chasm didn't matter, it was suicide either way. This kid, who he assumed they knew, had done this because they felt they had nothing left. Blair trembled in his arms and he held her fiercely, his own body firm and steady, although rigid and slightly cold. He looked at Poppy and Randi, and then over at Bella who also seemed to have joined them. He felt a bit of responsibility at being the man here, but also he felt there was almost no difference in Dauntless between males and females. All of these women were strong and capable warriors just like himself. So he just stood there, unsure of what to say or do. He didn't want Blair to look, so he firmly held her, as an encouragement for her to not look, yet if she forced through his arms he would let go.

Interacting with: Blair WanderLust. Poppy Wolfiee Randi Sanctuaryforall1 Bella mentioned MWMASkairipa

 

[Aviator]

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

It was a good thing that Ghost made a habit of skipping breakfast, because as he leapt out of the wrinkled leather chair and darted for the trash can in the corner of the room, he didn’t quite make it there in time before a wave of nausea swept him off his feet and he was dry-heaving on the floor. Again and again and again, until his throat burned with each constriction, but still nothing came up, and eventually he slumped to the floor, uncontrollably shivering and sweating at the same time, clawing at his trench coat until it somehow came off. Beneath it, his burnt-orange dress shirt was plastered to his skin as completely as if he had decided to jump into a swimming pool fully clothed.
For an extended moment, Ghost was certain that his symptoms were the result of a need for lull, and he flopped an arm out to his side with the intent of grabbing his coat and rooting through it. But he was retching, not coughing, and while his throat hurt like hell, he had yet to taste blood. He had the tiny tin box in his hand when he decided to let go and wait to see if the episode would abate on its own. Ghost’s arms shook dangerously as he pushed his torso up from the floor, moaning as he scrounged the strength to crawl toward the nearest wall. There, his spine thudded against its base, and he drew up his knees and wrapped them with his arms, huddling into a ball for warmth. He shivered some more and focused furiously on counting the tiles on the floor, to give his mind something to do rather than wallow in anguish.
Suddenly Ghost was no longer in the overbright simulation room, but reliving the series of nightmares from which he had just escaped: his father’s hand blazing across his face, the rattle of chains as he fumbled with their lock, the little dark-haired girl’s arms enfolding him in a hug, Leah’s blood seeping through the fabric of his pants and soaking his knees, the sickening smell of antiseptics as Alex prepped for surgery. Deep down, Ghost knew none of it was real, but just because his worst fears hadn’t manifested yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t in the future. It all had felt so horribly lifelike that he was sure they couldn’t have been just meaningless figments of his imagination, that he must have been glimpsing visions of what fate eventually had in store for him. Dear God, what if fear simulations had other, more practical applications than just measuring initiates’ bravery? What if the government tortured particularly dangerous criminals by subjecting them to their worst fears in reality? What he and Blair were planning was treason—hell, just hiding a known Divergent probably counted as such—and Ghost knew that the faction leaders didn’t treat traitors with a light hand. But being a traitor implied that he had given the factions his loyalty in the first place, so could Ghost really be branded as one?
You know, for a common criminal, you’re awfully self-righteous. He cringed as Alex’s voice, sweet as poisonous berries, echoed in his head. Ghost drew his legs a little tighter into his chest as that final simulated scenario descended over him. Only, the mind-numbing terror that he had experienced in the moment was now replaced with a soul-shattering void of despair. Alex had threatened to divest him of his intellect, of his rebellious spirit, and Ghost had been forced to helplessly watch and endure as all his plans and ambitions and dreams were almost put to death. Without his abilities to think and desire and combine the two to impose his will upon the world, Ghost would have been nothing. He had been so close to having his soul torn out by the roots, to having all his chances of creating a legacy for himself erased. And when one was destined to die young, a legacy was all one had.
Ghost blinked and jumped to find Leah crouched beside him so that they were at eye level with one another. When had that happened? His head was spinning like a carousel, and he gripped his hair with one hand, tugging until pain seared through his scalp and compelled him to focus. Leah’s face was so twisted that it resembled a sailor’s knot of revulsion. Ghost belatedly remembered that everything he had seen, so had she, and while he was sure that the humiliation of having his worst fears put on display would hit him later, all he felt now was the bone-deep depression of a man who had very nearly lost everything and was thus confronted with his own internal fragility. It had been a long two years since Ghost had last undergone a fearscape, but he didn’t remember it being a fraction this bad, and not one of his fears from today had he ever experienced before.
It confirmed his private hypothesis that, on a fundamental level, he had changed since his days as an initiate. He felt like a different person altogether—a strange hybrid of the envied heir he had once been, the ruthless thief he’d become, and the pitiful wretch he still had to sometimes fight off, like at this very moment. And Ghost had a glimmer of an idea as to the source of that change: Before, when he had somberly accepted the fact that his lull addiction would kill him at a premature age, when he’d been surviving one day at a time, he’d had no reason to live, no reason to care, no future goals to work toward. But now, he did. Now, Ghost had money, a girl, ideals of justice that he was prepared to fight for, and a vision to change the world. Individually, they each might have been shallow reasons to keep going, but together, the sum surpassed its parts.
The coldness of the floor tiles seeped through his damp, sweat-stained pants, and he gradually reawakened to his surroundings, to the tingles of pain that were creeping up his tightly drawn legs. Get a grip, goddammit, he thought, frustrated at his inability to remain present. Despite the shame it cost him, knowing that Leah was seeing Ferris Jacobi at his lowest, Ghost looked at her. She said nothing. Did nothing. Just sat there on her heels, staring, offering her silent support, and Ghost reciprocated her laconicism, relieved that Leah made no move to touch him. He never wanted to be touched again. Some time passed, Ghost murmured a barely audible “thank you,” and he and Leah continued to sit quietly, his mind and body gone numb.
Ghost couldn’t say how long it had been until he heard a crescendo of footfalls followed by the rasp of a key in a lock, but at that point he had relapsed into the dark and dreary recesses of his inner thoughts. And he still didn’t fully trust his senses, like the spectator of a magic trick that defied all logic and reason. So Ghost didn’t react until the door cracked open, throwing a slice of warm yellow glow from the hallway across the floor, and Charlotte Stark stepped inside, her face an unreadable mask.
Alarm flashed through Ghost, but distantly, as if he were hearing a voice call to him from underwater. The whole concept of someone bursting in on Ghost and Leah when they were alone together in a forbidden context—simulation rooms being off limits outside of official training sessions—let alone that someone turning out to be Charlie had an air of unreality to it, despite the knowledge that Jaxom and Randi had caught Ghost and Leah kissing two nights ago in the barrack. Ghost was not fully convinced that this was actually happening. He recalled “awakening” from his fearscape in the simulation room, only to find himself chained to a chair and Blair teasing his darkest secrets out of him one by one. Perhaps this joint confrontation by both the girls with claims on his heart was also part of his fearscape, since such a scenario reeked of disaster.
Charlie asked Leah to leave, and Ghost raised a brow at the phrasing of her request, which was more of a suggestion than an order given from instructor to initiate. Yup, that was Charlie, all right. If she really was just a figment of his imagination, then this imposter was a good one. He unfolded slowly to his feet, gliding his back along the wall for support, biting back a wince at the cramps that shot down his shins. “You heard her, Miss Young. You are dismissed,” Ghost said in a voice so calm that it was almost devoid of inflection. Leah hesitated, her gaze cutting back and forth between Charlie and Ghost, seeming unsure what to make of Charlie’s sudden appearance and Ghost’s equally sudden composure. “Do I have to repeat myself, initiate?” Ghost demanded, his voice a low snarl, eyebrows drawn into a sharp line. Leah scurried from the room.
Instead of answering Charlie’s question, Ghost bent at the waist, picked up his coat, and slid into it with neat, precise movements. Then, with careful deliberation, he selected one of his Wicked Sisters, withdrew it from the black coat, pointed it at Charlie, and turned off the safety and thumbed back the hammer. Ghost could hear the stutter in her breathing from here. Charlie put a hand to her chest and made to back out of the doorway, but one of her heels caught on the frame and she sagged back against it, stumbling for balance. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, Ghost flicked the safety again and replaced the pistol in his coat. “Sorry for that. I had to verify that this encounter is indeed real,” he said, offering no further elaboration. Ghost’s gaze turned inward, and he cradled his chin in one hand, resting the elbow on the opposite palm. “That reaction seemed genuine enough, so I’m choosing to believe this is all really happening,” he muttered, mostly to himself, thinking of his ridiculously cheeky cognition of Blair and how that differed from her actual self.
Now that Ghost thought about it, he decided that Leah killing herself in response to one man’s rejection—even repeated, outright abuse—was highly uncharacteristic of her. But that was just one of Ghost’s fears, and fear was an emotion. Expecting emotions to behave logically defied their very nature, something that Ghost was acutely reminded of during most of his interactions with Charlie. He patiently waited for Charlie to recover from her shock, in the meantime reflecting on the simulation that had featured him married to her in a distant future. Before she had abandoned him. In retrospect, Ghost found that simulation most shocking of all, since he knew in his core that he would never live long enough for that future to manifest. Chronic lull usage would kill him long before then—if Ghost didn’t pick the wrong fight first, which wasn’t an unlikely possibility despite his deep-seated habit of calculating risks before taking them.
Finally, Charlie repeated her previous question, grounding it out more slowly and precisely this time. Ghost rubbed his chin again and angled his posture toward her. “Now,” he began pensively, “how is that any of your business?” He returned the question smoothly, and while his words were cold, his tone was almost conversational, as if this were a matter of polite debate and he hoped for a genuine answer. Charlie appeared dumbfounded by the question, as if it were a sly trick that she had never seen coming, and Ghost took the opportunity to advance a counterattack. “I realize that I don’t owe you an answer, but I’ll give you one anyway as a gesture of goodwill.” And because I’m not afraid of you, he added silently. “I was doing my part to reform the intrinsically corrupt policies of Dauntless initiation by assisting a disadvantaged initiate who has been in the faction for all of two weeks and yet is somehow expected to compete against the offspring of Dauntless-born dynasties who have a lifetime of training to support them.”
Charlie slowly blinked, as if needing time to process Ghost’s lofty description of his recent activities, then asked him to clarify his meaning. He nodded once, expecting a likewise question. “In simpler terms, Miss Young is currently struggling within the ranks, as you might have noticed. She approached me for help, and I obliged her. Until you burst in on us, we’d been having a productive half hour or so of fearscape training.” Ghost had no idea how long he and Leah had been ensconced in the gleaming simulation room, because after emerging from his fearscape, time was as broken as the world. But his instincts told him that a half hour sounded good.
Charlie narrowed her eyes the slightest bit, and if Ghost didn’t know any better, he’d think that she was making a silent accusation. Surely enough, she asked Ghost if he was aware that utilizing the simulation rooms off hours was against faction policies. “I am, but technically it’s not off hours. You just told Miss Young that she would be late to training if she didn’t hurry, yes? Besides,” he continued, figuring a more sentimental argument would appeal to Charlie better, “would you rather I refuse to help an initiate in need?” Ghost gave her the most innocent look in his arsenal, as if he were a misbehaving angel with a halo of dark hair hanging across his pale forehead.
Seeming to weigh the validity of Ghost’s reasoning, Charlie bit her lip and paused. Then she replied that it wasn’t fair for Ghost to pick and choose which initiates he privately tutored in his free time, and that if he wanted so badly to reform the faction, then he ought to extend his lessons to all of them. Ghost released his bated breath; this conversation was going all according to plan. “Oh, Charlotte. Are you sure you want to play this card? I’ll give you one chance to take it back.” Ghost tilted his head into one palm and felt the corners of his lips tug upward. Not quite a smile, but more like the look of mild amusement that a cat wears when toying with a mouse ensnared in its claws. Uncertainty scrawled across Charlie’s features, and she hesitated, but for too long. Ghost took her silence as refusal to rescind her argument. “Well, for one, if I tutored all of the initiates at once, that’d just be basic training, and I definitely wouldn’t devote all my free time to it when I can get paid instead, like I am now. Besides: equality isn’t the same as equity. Like I said, Miss Young is at a severe disadvantage, being a transfer initiate. She’s in a minority that needs extra help and attention, and desperately, if she’s to make any progress before the next round of eliminations. It’s not like she has any family or older mentor figures in the faction, so who will help her if not me?”
Charlie opened her mouth to speak, but Ghost wasn’t through with her yet. “No. You asked me a question, so now I’m speaking, and you’re listening,” he drawled with his usual cool, controlled rage. Charlie must have seen a dangerous glint in his eyes, because she fell silent. Ghost couldn’t admit it, but he knew that there was more than a glimmer of truth at the crux of Charlie’s argument, and he was just sidestepping the issue. There was no perfect solution to problems of initiation and ranking, just as there was no perfect solution to the faction system—aside from burning it to the ground, of course. Oppression and discrimination were innate parts of the factions; people were judged according to how well they conformed to one ideal, one image, and those who couldn’t were discarded. The strong were encouraged to trample the weak for their own gains, and Ghost couldn’t abide such gross injustice. More than anything, he wanted to speak his mind and tell Charlie that initiation wouldn’t have such problems if it no longer existed, because factions didn’t exist. But he couldn’t. This secret was between just Blair and him, at least for now. The more mouths that talked, the more ears would listen, and eventually the rumors would trace back to Ghost. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Really, Charlotte,” he continued, simmering with a fury that she had only partially contributed to, “what you should have considered above all is the dynamic that you maintained with Caspian as initiates. Coming from you of all people—you who would have flunked out of Dauntless without someone to hold your hand—that argument sounds particularly hypocritical. So don’t you dare get all sanctimonious about me picking and choosing favorites, because if you hadn’t been someone’s favorite, you would be slumming with the factionless right now.” Ghost was breathing fast, and one of his eyes twitched as he glared at her. The Charlie in his fearscape had abandoned him, yes, but not the one in reality. So far.
But Ghost couldn’t shake his premonition that those fear landscapes truly existed somewhere—maybe in a far-off future or parallel universe, but those fabrications were too cruel and detailed and coldly logical for the human psyche to concoct all on its own, unlike dreams which were often nonsensical. And in Baneberry, you learned to trust your intuitions quickly, because second-guessing would get you killed before you saw it coming. Somewhere, sometime, some version of Charlie had or would gain Ghost’s trust and betray it. He wouldn’t have been so direly afraid of the possibility if it weren’t a legitimate one, because those fear sims didn’t come from nowhere. “Tell me, Charlotte,” sneered Ghost, “and be honest. Was the only reason you were sleeping with Caspian so that he would better help you climb the ranks of initiation? Considering that you broke up with him almost immediately afterward, I’d say that theory has some weight to it, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

[Baratheon]

Finn Day

He couldn't help but be a little surprised as both Aubrey and Night came to his rescue, concern shimmering in both of their eyes. Finn appreciated Night's help, but felt a small flutter in his stomach as Aubrey gazed down at him. Was it embarrassment? Shyness? He didn't know, but her looking at him with such care in her beautiful blue eyes was almost too much for him to handle.

Both reached their arms out to him, so with a small laugh, Finn took them both and swung himself to his feet. He was fine, really, other than the stinging cuts. He could breathe and walk, so nothing serious. He stretched his calves out a little as Aubrey began to explain her plans, voice faltering as she gazed at him again. His fluttering turned into a small flame. Him? Not be able to do something? Finn raised himself stoically, shoulders back and eyes ablaze. "I'm fine! Last one there loses!" He declared. With a giddy whoop, the young man took off towards the train tracks. Finn was still pretty fast, although the grazes on his knee forced him to slightly favor his right leg. He might still be the loser in this race, he knew, but his head start might just give him an advantage. The sound of a blaring horn behind him made Finn's grin grow.

It whooshed past him, tracks clanging just a few feet from his body. The rush of sound, of wind, of danger made his heart soar. So what if he was a little clumsy, or didn't fit in? He might not be as strong as Aubrey or Harper, or calculating as Ghost, or even as brave as some of his fellow initiates, but he survived. He lived. And the excitement of the danger at hand only made him feel all the more Dauntless.

Aubrey shouted something about five and an open door. Finn risked a glance behind him to see a train car, five down, with its door open. Their target. His knee was starting to really feel like it was on fire now and he found himself slowing slightly. Finn did his best to keep up, knowing that this really could mean life or death. To his surprise, the door passed him much faster than expected and his eyes widened in shock. Had he missed it? No, there-! Aubrey had run ahead and swung herself in, immediately turning to give him a hand. Finn grinned and gave a burst of speed to grab it and swing himself inside as well. Night was right behind him, not needing any help at all. For a few moments they all sat there breathing heavily, the only sounds being the rail beneath them and the wind screeching past the open door. He gave a grin to Aubrey as their eyes met, but she simply rolled them and gave him a solid punch on the shoulder. "Ow!"

"I'm ready. Charlie can put some alcohol on my cuts and I'll be alright. Plus, I gotta try and reclaim my winner status after what just happened. The mighty Finn, champion of Ghost, being defeated by random pavement outside!" He laughed at his own expense, wiping more gravel off of his shorts, "But I agree about the simulations. They're hard and, honestly, nothing we're ever going to experience in real life. We need to be strong, physically, of course, but mental strength shouldn't be just like dreams and what-if scenarios. They should be real things we could face instead, right?"

He shrugged as he finished his short monologue, and the train was quickly arriving at their stop. Aubrey led the way of course and he jumped after her, gritting his teeth as his knees and elbows stung at the impact. He rolled a few times and shakily got back to his feet. He was fine! Finn wiped his hands off and followed the other two to the edge of the roof. He was last, of course, arriving right as Aubrey finished speaking. Without hesitation, the lithe teen kept walking, turned, and promptly fell off the side of the roof into the gaping hole below. There had to be a net. Dauntless wasn't stupid enough for their soldiers to just splat on the concrete below... wait, right?

His thoughts were sent in a panic as he fell, shirt whipping up towards the sky. It was too late to go back now. Thankfully, Finn was gracefully caught by the net below and he rolled off the side, straightening himself once he had his footing. Haha! Did this mean he had kind of won? Or had Night reacted faster than he? To be honest, Finn had only had eyes for Aubrey, so he hadn't seen if the other young man was even faster than he. "Come on Aubrey, we gotta get to training slowpoke!"

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

Harper Day

Harper nodded as Charlie raced off to go grab her medical bag. For someone who was the only person in her position in the whole compound, the young woman could be a scatterbrain. Harper would see her here, then there, then not at all for hours. Where did she get off to during those times? Just healing people? How boring. Harper would much rather be in the position she was now, soldier and instructor to the next generation. Simply fixing others and being unable to fight herself would drive her mad. Well, maybe then Charlie had a good reason to be scatterbrained. Being cooped up in the compound all day would do that to anyone; Harper made a mental note to invite Charlie out and about more.

Harper went to finish up her set then put her equipment away, doing a double-check of the room to make sure it was ready for the initiates. The free-for-all-esque training they had planned today would be difficult, to say the least, but a good test of skill. The initiates needed to see if they had grown any, or not, in their strength and skills with combat. Harper wanted them to succeed. Of course she did. But seeing teenagers beat the crap out of each other was always just kind of fun, too.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

 

[paralyzed]

Night Scott | Abnegation-born, Dauntless initiate.

Interactions: Aubrey/ Nerdy. Finn/ Baratheon

Just a bit faster and he could overtake Aubrey, maybe win this race. He set his mind on the path in front of him, so when Finn suddenly appeared right beside him it caused his already racing heart to skip a beat. Before he could process the fact that he needed to run faster than ever now, Finn fell to the ground, tumbling forward. It took Night a moment to reduce his momentum and come to a stop. He turned seeing Aubrey already jogging towards him to which he followed suit. Finn seemed to be okay as he sat up. Night felt relieved, it would suck to have broken something in a faction like Dauntless where half of your training involved rigorous physical activity. Approaching him, Night heard Finn laughing away the pain he must be feeling. “Damn that must’ve hurt,” observing the many cuts all over Finn’s body. “You alright man?” said Night as he offered his hand to Finn. Aubrey quickly offered hers, to which Finn declared he didn’t need both of their hands but took them anyway and stood up. Taking the train seemed like a good idea, so he followed Finn and Aubrey. The tracks were pretty close, the sound of the train only increasing in volume. The train speedily came into his view and Aubrey pointed out an open door in it. Night caught the opening with his eyes, then saw Aubrey speed forward and leap into the train, helping Finn in. Night rushed forward and pulled himself in, his mind trying to avoid the thoughts of what would occur if he had missed. The very small chance of getting run over by the train scared him. Even though there was almost no chance it could happen with the way it was built, his mind still imagined the worst. Sitting down on the cold floor of the train Night let out a breath he had found himself holding.

Night grinned at how confident the two were about the free for all. “Well as long as I survive long enough to gain some points I’ll be happy.” The conversation went from a cheerful one where Night found himself laughing to a conversation about the simulations. Night nodded in agreement, remembering how real and therefore terrifying the simulations felt. Recalling his past sims as well as the air from the open door hitting his sweaty body sent chills throughout him. It seemed that they had arrived at their next point in their path to the training room. Night didn’t exactly know where they were going but he followed anyways. Aubrey jumped off the train followed by Finn. Night jumped hitting the gravel, rolled to release some momentum, and ran after Aubrey. Following Aubrey his mind started to piece together the path they were taking. Only to be confirmed when he saw the familiar cavity in the roof they were standing on. He should have seen this coming, it was the same way he took his first time arriving at the dauntless compound. Rolling his eyes he remembered the last time he was here, and that he was one of the last ones to jump that day only after realizing that there was no way dauntless would be wasting that many initiates lives. So there had to be a safety-precaution down there. Drinks sounded amazing, especially after the day they were going to face. “Sounds good,” he said. But he didn’t plan on buying any drinks, as a transfer, he didn’t have much money. So he decided he would jump before they could beat him to it. But to his surprise just as Finn arrived he turned and fell down the dark pit below.
Night couldn’t even see if there was a net from where he was standing. Night looked at Aubrey, “Damn, he didn’t even hesitate, that’s brave.” Laughing Night could glimpse Finn’s body had been caught by the net. “Nothin' but net,” he exclaimed before jumping to the depths below. At first all he saw was the dark ground but his eyes quickly focused on the net that had almost blended in with the floor. The fall only lasted a few seconds but it greatly increased his adrenaline. Chills rushing up his forearms, he spread his arms in anticipation for the impact and let out a howl. The net knocked the air out of him but he quickly found comfort in its embrace. Laying in the net for only a couple seconds, he realized Aubrey could land on him and break some of his bones as he broke her fall. He swiftly rolled from off the net almost losing his balance as he simultaneously heard the scream of Aubrey. Grabbing the side of the net to keep himself from falling from the dizziness he had just received he looked at Finn, “Ha, that was fun.”

 

[Nerdy.]

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

Charlie gasped as Ghost pulled his gun out, cocking it and pointing it at her. She suddenly envisioned a gunshot roaring in her ears, and she stumbled backwards, either from the impact of her mind telling her she had been shot, or from the fear of that happening. Either way, her fear and surprise succeeded in her feet tumbling over one another and her back slamming into the frame of the door. She winced and cringed away from Ghost's gun, the wince because the hinge of the door had dug into her back, and the cringe from her fear of someone pointing a gun at her. Why... what... Charlie stared with large brown eyes as Ghost simply stood there, only to put his gun away, mumbling about having to make sure this was real. Charlie, shaken but no longer terrified, stepped away from the door, her arms coming up sub-consciously to rub each other, now feeling a lot less sure of what she was doing in here, and why she was talking to Ghost. Firstly she sees him so.. intimately? That may have not been the right word but it was a word and Charlie couldn't think of another one... then as soon as Leah was gone he pulled a gun on her. Charlie felt almost wounded that Ghost would do that, reality or not. She would never hurt him intentionally, yet he seemed to be able to threaten and intimidate her so easily, as if she meant nothing to him. She set her jaw firmly, still wanting him to answer her question, he had dodged it so far but she was determined to repeat it. To make sure he didn't twist her words she decided to phrase it a bit more simply. "What were you and Leah doing in here?" She said finally, her voice free of trembling, a miracle. She watched as Ghost seemed to put on the mask he always did, where he hid his real emotions, his real self, and placed on the winning characteristics of Ghost, rather than Ferris, the boy underneath. Charlie knew she had no way to judge this, and there was a large possibility of her being wrong, but from knowing Ghost the way she had over the last couple of weeks, from a man who asserted authority, to a boy who left her flowers, whisked her off her feet and opened some of his heart to her, to a man who kissed her passionately, held her strongly, yet also frightened her and made her question things that she never thought to question.
Ghost's answer was as to be expected, yet Charlie was surprised when he continued talking, telling her that he would, in fact, grace her with an answer. Intrigued now, Charlie listened as he continued. Blinking in confusion however, her mind whirred as a complicated and terribly busy sentence erupted from Ghost's mouth like a computer malfunctioning, and Charlie tried to process it in her mind; not wanting to misunderstand, she pressed him to clarify, to which he did. So, he had been helping Leah in the simulations? Charlie racked her brain, trying to find out if that was something he was or wasn't allowed to do. However, she knew one thing he wasn't allowed to do, and she brought it up to him. "I'm sure you're aware that the testing rooms are not to be used off hours." She did not frame it as a question, although she may have done had she been arguing with Caspian or Maverick or someone like her sister. Ghost was too smart for questions like that, where you stated a fact as a question in order to manipulate the other person to be less defensive when coming to the correct conclusion. Ghost was much to smart for that, and so she simply said it straightforward like, hoping that would be the best way for him.

Ghost nodded, but declared that it technically wasn't off hours, as shown by Charlie's statement that Leah would be late for training if she didn't hurry along. Charlie knew she could argue with this, the very fact that Charlie said she would be late is because training was still off hours and it was about to start, however she was sure Ghost knew more about the policies than she did, so she feared that declaring this would only cause Ghost to snap back more. As he stated his next reason however, Charlie could already feel the way he tugged on her heart strings. Was she such a puppet that in the couple weeks of knowing her Ghost knew how to pull at every string connected to her? She could just imagine it, she, a simple marionette, and he the puppeteer, holding her strings and knowing just what to say and do to make her say and do things. That simple thought alone made her unsure of continuing this conversation, yet she was almost helpless as her reply came faster than she even thought possible. "But that's not fair." Charlie stated, biting her lip afterwards, that was a childish thing to say. "I mean... if you wish to change the factions and the way their initiation is biased, you should help the others as well, not just Leah." Charlie was much happier with that sentence and reasoning, rather than the one she had claimed before it. Ghost however, smiled an impish little smile, warning Charlie that he would let her take that back. She blinked in confusion, why would she take that back? If Ghost was truly trying to reform the initiation and the bias and experience that Dauntless children already had, then why wasn't he helping others like Bella? Charlie knew that Ghost was smarter than her, and it was likely that he would have an answer to every argument she placed in front of him, but in her heart she felt something, maybe it was injustice, maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was the fact that she would have been able to use the help of an instructor when she was an initiate and they had never helped her...
As Ghost replied to her, she caught very quickly that he had misunderstood her previous statement, when she had referred to helping the others, she had meant the other transfer initiates. If that truly was the reason for him doing this, to help a transfer initiate rise higher because of the disadvantage, why not help the others too? She would not suggest he help the Dauntlessborns, although she had specific and deep ties to them, she simply meant to correct his statement of wishing to fix a broken faction, and his actions seemed almost hypocritical. When Ghost pointed a question at her, well... not at her, but it was a question. Charlie rushed to answer, only for Ghost to cut her off. She closed her mouth quickly, as she saw a flame in his eyes, the very same flame she had seen before, in other conversations or moments that she had seen fire him up, and set him off. She backed off, allowing Ghost his space to continue speaking. But as she watched him prepare for his next sentence, and even as the next words came rolling out of his mouth, she could see the flame had already risen higher and higher, and the was an untapped fury that lay behind those gorgeous eyes of his. Where had that come from? Surely Charlie had not caused this anger all by herself, with her minimal questioning and few minutes of speaking with him. She concluded that Ghost had already had this irritancy and frustration built up, and she was merely the one who had stumbled along and lit the fuse. His accusation that she was the one being hypocritical, by questioning Ghost's motives yet having needed someone like Caspian all along, resonated deeply and sharply within her chest. He was right, of course... but that had been different! Caspian was her fellow initiate, not an instructor. Plus, Ghost had said that he did this to bring equity to the Dauntless faction initiation? Well she was a Dauntlessborn who struggled, and there were plenty of non Dauntlessborns who didn't struggle as well. Of course the percentage always had more Dauntlessborn passing than transfers. But there were also always more Dauntlessborns than entered the initiation... She had just decided this would be something she could say to Ghost, when his next sentence rolled out of his mouth and spat towards her like a viper's venom.

Charlie stopped, freezing in place as Ghost's accusation hit her like a bus. He... he had the nerve to think she slept with someone in order to pass initiation? Anger welled up in Charlie's chest, anger not just towards Ghost... although she had much anger towards him in this moment. However, the anger that rose up was a bitter, old anger, and it was against the very man that Ghost had just brought up. Caspian. Charlie had forgiven him of course, but the action in which Ghost was assuming to know the details of, was something that had caused her great pain. She clenched her fist, breathing through her teeth and clenching her jaw as well. That was it. Ghost's smile while he said this, his anger and accusation, his need to always be right even when he wasn't, and his nerve to presume her private life was something he could speak into, caused Charlie to snap.
"You... You think my life, my past, my relationships are some fun game where you can theorize and talk about things you know nothing about?" Charlie's voice was cold, yet fired up at the same time. She was done with being the lovely and push over Charlotte that let everyone step on her. "Well here's a fact. I did not sleep with Caspian." Charlie's eyes bored into Ghost's, as the memory she had sworn to never tell anyone, the memory that hurt and she could still feel to this day, a memory that she still had nightmares about, swam through her mind and she felt like she could still feel the touch of Caspian's hands and body upon her in this moment. She watched as Ghost's eyes narrowed, he seemed ready to reply back, possibly to tell her she was wrong, because he knew oh so much about her private life, well.. she wanted to prove him wrong. And, by this point, she could hardly control her anger and the emotions built up inside of her. "He raped me!" Charlie finally blurted out.

The room was silent. Charlie wanted to sob, as the memory finally filled her mind and remembering the pain of Caspian stealing so many of her firsts came back to her. She loved Caspian, she really did. She forgave him for doing the things he had done, he had been drunk... he... he was a Dauntless man... and she had simply been a small, skinny, anorexic girl who had fallen in love with her bestfriend. "Thought that might shut you up." She finally said, firmly trying not to cry. She had promised Caspian that she had forgiven him and that she wouldn't tell anyone about this. And now she had. Ghost had found the last string to pull, and it had caused them to snap. She felt like a marionette who's strings had been cut with scissors, and her body trembled, wanting to collapse into a pile. However, unlike a marionette, she had the ability to be herself, and control herself. So she did. She would not cry in front of Ghost. Nor would she crumble and prove the very point that Caspian was the only reason she had gotten through initiation. She couldn't even be bothered to go back and explain the parts of their conversation where he had misunderstood her. Or where she thought she was right and he was wrong. She didn't care. If he wanted to do things with Leah, then who was she to stop him. In fact, why was she even here, caring, in the first place? Although Ghost had saved her from her father, she was not indebted to him as she may have thought before. Ghost seemed to not care that Charlie's life was not his to play with, so Charlie felt no reason to enlighten Ghost further with her own thoughts and opinions. She sighed, a shaky and trembling sigh, but one that signaled a finish to this talk. She turned around, refusing to look at Ghost anymore, and walked to the door, placing her hand on the doorknob, she stopped, wishing to finish the sentence further. "And you were wrong about another thing." She said, her voice now tired, defeated, rather than firing and cold. "We broke up because he was in love with Alice and not me."

Charlie opened the door and walked out, refusing again to look back. "Add that to your theory."

Interacting with: Ghost Aviator

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

Aubrey watched as Finn just kept walking, falling straight into the abyss and she felt her heart patter quickly within her chest. How brave he was, and how terrifying watching his body fall was. Equally sexy... er... fun... and also concerning and terrifying. She shook her head, about to jump in when Night did so himself, beating Aubrey by mere seconds, causing her to have to hold herself back so she didn't fall with him, knowing they would have hurt each other if they fell at the same time. She huffed, knowing this meant she was buying drinks later, however, at least it meant they would be going to get drinks later. She waited for a few seconds more for Night to jump off, barely hearing Finn's voice rise up, calling her a slowpoke. She rolled her eyes, and fell backwards into the hole, her voice squealing with joy, she loved this feeling, of adrenaline pumping into her body and the wind whipping through her hair and clothes. She landed squarely in the net, the air being whooshed out of her, and she began to giggle uncontrollably.

She finally managed to stop giggling, and rolled herself off the net, joining Finn and Night. "Guess I'm on drinks then! Let's head to training, hopefully we aren't late." Aubrey chimed to the two boys beside her as she jogged towards the training room. She wondered if they were the last ones into the training room, it was highly likely, it seemed like they could be late already. However as they walked along and neared the training doors she could only see a few bodies through the small window at the top of the door. "Huh, I thought we would be late after all... but..." Aubrey opened the door, peering into the room. She could see that Harper was here, along with a few other initiates, possibly Thorn, Jaxom and Leah, though she cared too little to actually check. She pursed her lips, letting NIght and Finn through, then allowing the door to swing shut. "Is it not time yet? Well, at least we can get some time to drink some water, I'm parched after that run, but gosh it feels good for the body." Aubrey said, jogging to the table that always held so many water bottles. She grabbed three, throwing one to Night and one to Finn, before drinking half of her own one. She then took off her jacket, leaving herself in the tight red singlet that she liked to wear, and retying her hair into a tight bun. She was ready for the day to start.

"I wonder where Charlie.." Aubrey began to mutter her sentence when the training doors opened and Charlie walked through. Aubrey's own eyes narrowed, as she could tell that Charlie was unhappy, in fact, she looked completely devastated. Aubrey elbowed Finn, and motioned towards her sister with her head. "Look.." She hissed, hoping Finn would do so without looking too obvious. Finn's own eyes narrowed, and he looked just as concerned as Aubrey felt. What was wrong with Charlie and what was she hiding from them? Who was this person that was hurting her? She had to find out. Slowly drinking some more water, Aubrey looked at Harper. "Are we going to start soon? Do we get extra points for being here on time?"

Interacting with: Finn + Harper Baratheon Night paralyzed

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Distressed

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Poppy, Blair, Chris, Ghost

It was crazy how a moment could change everything. In one moment, one second even, the world around her had changed completely. What had been a wonderful morning of joyous laughter and teasing among friends had become something dark and twisted as Randi looked upon the twisted form of Ben’s corpse as it lay mangled and broken across the rocks of the Chasm. The water that poured down on his body from above was clear as a finely cut diamond but once it met the broken sack of meat and bones that was once a fellow initiate the water ran red with crimson blood. How could this have happened? How could a morning of laughter, jokes, and teasing with her friends turn into this? Perhaps it was her fault, she was the one that loved the Chasm the most between the three of them. Her feet always lead her here so maybe this morning it was her who led her friends to this horrific scene.

The impact of seeing the body hit each of them hard, Randi was pretty sure she heard Blair scream, but she couldn’t be certain over the blood pounding in her ears. Her eyes were glued to the glazed-over gaze of the fallen initiate as it felt like he was reaching into her soul with his dead eyes. Randi’s mind flashed back to earlier that morning, around 2 am when she had finally decided to pick herself up off the edge of the Chasm and go home. As she had been leaving, she remembered passing Ben, making eye contact with him, giving him a smile, and saying something about being careful not to get too close to the edge, that they had another day of hellish training to look forward to and she would see him there. It felt like a stab to the gut to remember such a poorly worded joke and realize that she had missed the torment going on inside the boy she might have been able to save if she had just been more aware. Her mind felt slow as she wondered how long he had stood at the edge before jumping if he had wished someone would appear to talk him out of it if her words had sealed his fate. It wasn’t what she meant, she had just been joking, Ben wasn’t supposed to be dead right now and, in her gut, Randi felt that if she had acted differently in their last interaction, she might have been able to save him.

She didn’t even feel the tear that rolled down her cheek until it hit her collar bone. She didn’t notice how weak her knees felt or the fact that her limbs felt numb. She couldn’t feel anything until suddenly she became aware of Poppy’s arms around her. In an instant, she ripped her eyes away from Ben’s corpse and buried her face in Poppy’s shoulder. “I…I could have stopped this.” She breathed as she registered her body shaking. “I saw him.” She added after a breath. “I…I didn’t know he would jump.” She admitted but that changed nothing. Suicide was something that happened a lot in Dauntless, many older members found it to be an easy way out when they feared they would become too old to be useful and didn’t want to become factionless. Randi herself wasn’t a stranger to death, she was well aware that she had no desire to grow old and useless and would rather die young and in the heat of battle, but she had never considered suicide, at least not yet. Her dance with death still had many steps left to take until their final bow and she didn’t intend to step on his toes and cut the dance short, at least not yet. But Ben was so young still, he still had so much life left within him, this was nothing except a tragedy that Randi felt in her heart and soul she could have avoided.

Randi wasn’t sure when she pulled away from Poppy or if she had pushed away or if Poppy had simply let her go. She wasn’t certain how it happened but when she tuned back into her present situation, she found herself running and for a moment she wasn’t sure where she was. It took her a heartbeat to figure out her situation and as she looked around, she began to slowly recognize the paths that lead to the simulation rooms and the training area. Slowly Randi found herself sinking to the ground with her back against the wall as she couldn’t find it within her to stand any longer. She just kept seeing the last look Ben gave her and whether it was real or not she could remember the pain in his eyes, the hopelessness, and she had dared to make such a joke. Had that look actually been there or was her memory altering it to be, that she wasn’t sure, but what she did know was that even if the look wasn’t in his eyes, it had been in his soul.

The soft thud of approaching feet registered in Randi’s ears as she hung her head and hid her face. She wished she hadn’t braided her hair that morning because she would have loved to have had a curtain of platinum hair to hide behind but for now, her arms would have to do. As the sound of boots on the ground grew louder Randi chanced a glance upwards and felt a surprising sense of relief to spot Ghost coming towards her from the simulation rooms. She opened her mouth to say some sort of greeting but for once she was speechless, despite her lips parting no words could be heard.

Wolfiee Aviator

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Shocked

Location: Roof top

Interactions: Dante

This was not how Fable had expected her morning to go, not in the slightest. As she pressed herself to the roof with Dante’s weight holding her down she felt her urge to race across the rooftop and defend Blair fading as the conversation between Blair and Ghost danced across the rooftops into her ears. She didn’t catch all of it due to the wind that cut through the buildings and stole several words of the conversation before they made it to their hiding spot but she had heard enough. Ghost sounded like a mad man with the plans he had shared with Blair about kidnapping Obadiah Parks as well as all this talk of serums and divergents. It was hard to believe that a trainer and an initiate would have such an interaction.

Suddenly a piece of information hit Fable’s ears as she listened which caused her heart to break. Chris was dying, the young man Blair clearly loved more than anything was dying because of these serums they were talking about. Instantly Fable’s heart bled for the young couple as she tried her hardest not to picture what such a feeling would be like because the moment she did an image of Dante in a similar state formed in her head and she couldn’t bare to think about such a thing. She hadn’t realized how much Dante had come to mean to her in such a short period of time but this clearly meant something if he was the first person her mind went to when it became charged with fear at the idea of losing someone she cared about.

Listening to the rest of the conversation their words pieced together a story that seemed almost unbelievable. Like Dante, Fable came to the understanding that Blair was in fact a divergent, and Ghost wasn’t reporting it. Like many others, Fable had learned growing up that divergents were a danger to their entire society but she had always been told that by her parents which meant the words held zero meaning to her. Her parents had considered her a threat to their society because of the way she looked and so when they told her divergents were dangerous and could ruin the world they knew Fable had taken that as they were a possible answer to making this world far less broken than it was now. A very different message than was intended but one Fable believed with her entire heart.

All too soon it seemed Ghost and Blair’s conversation had come to an end as the two exited the roof they had been fighting on. The moment they left Fable turned to look at Dante with wide mismatched eyes as he removed his weight from on top of her. She opened her mouth to speak but it seemed Dante beat her to it as he began to spew ideas about reporting Ghost and Blair in order to secure their own place within the Dauntless faction. For a moment Fable couldn’t believe what she was hearing and hoped the suggestion had been a joke but when she looked into Dante’s eyes she knew it wasn’t. He was serious, he wanted to turn the trainer and fellow initiate in for a reward. Fable couldn’t believe such a sinister idea had come from such a kind person.

“What?” Fable gasped and pulled away from him ever so slightly. “We…we can’t!” She blurted and looked at her best friend in shock. “We weren’t even supposed to hear that conversation.” She added as she felt dirty for spying despite not being able to help it. “Besides, Blair has never been a threat to either of us, we have to help her. She clearly wants no part in Ghost’s plan and we can’t turn him in without risking her.” She pointed out to the former Erudite with pleading eyes. “Please, we can’t just punish her for being different. Maybe they are both mistaken anyway?” She suggested though she knew it was false hope.

jrink

code by Stardust Galaxy

Thorn

Mood: Tired

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Charlie, Jax

Thorn did his best to keep his smile firmly on his lips despite the pain of the split that cut across his bottom lip. He saw the concern flash across Charlie’s eyes as she saw the new cuts and bruises that were littered across his face and body. He didn’t mean to worry her but he couldn’t exactly cover them up or miss training to hide them. His smile only widened when she unwrapped the gift he made her and saw that she did in fact like it as he had hoped. The young man always felt most rewarded when he was able to make another person feel special or appreciated and he hoped that Charlie felt such feelings in this moment. They hadn’t gotten to spend much time together since initiation began and he knew she had been surprised to find out he hadn’t switched factions, but he did want to make sure she knew that he still thought of her often and was glad to have her as a friend.

“Of course you can keep it.” He confirmed with a slight laugh in his voice as he spoke. “I made it just for you. If you want anything changed I can fix it though.” He added with his usual genuine sweetness that often made many confused as to why he was in Dauntless rather than Amity. Charlie had supported the idea of him leaving this faction, getting away from his folks and going where he could truly be happy, but when the time came to make the choice Thorn knew he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave her, he couldn’t leave his mother, he was bound to this faction whether he liked it or not. Running off to Amity felt like he was abandoning those who meant the most to him.

Carefully Thorn latched the necklace around Charlie’s neck when she asked him to. He made sure not to snag her hair and to make the length just right so it rested on her chest just right. When Charlie turned around he felt a spark of pride in his work and how it had brought her such joy. Her smile was all the payment he needed and made the long hours twisting and bending the delicate metal worth it in the end. His smile faded slightly when he saw hers melt away as she mentioned his injuries. “It was just a misunderstanding.” He lied as casually as speaking the truth, something he had become used to doing over the years of taking such beatings from his father and uncle. “I know you are.” He added as she assured him that she was always there to help if he needed it. “And I am grateful for that but you are already helping more than you could ever know.” He assured her in return knowing that he would never want to put her in the dangerous situation of trying to deal with his family.

As she started to inquire about if he had met Jaxom, Thorn shook his head. He had seen the transfer around of course but had never really met him until this moment. Walking over to the tattooed male Thorn gave him a wave and winced slightly as his arm stung from the movement. “Hi, I’m Thorn.” He greeted with a friendly smile.

Nerdy. Wolfiee

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Aviator]

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

Ghost watched the effect his words had on Charlie with a mix of satisfaction, horror, and morbid curiosity, like a spectator watching the execution of a particularly notorious criminal. Her shoulders squared into a collection of harsh lines, and she drew an extended, rattling breath which she didn’t exhale for so long that Ghost wondered if she had forgotten how. Loud silence stretched between them, so thin that it seemed a heartbeat from overextending itself and snapping. When Charlie looked at him, her face was contorted in a rictus of anger, and Ghost was acutely aware that he was in uncharted territory. For so long he had wondered if anger was an emotion that the demure medic ever experienced, because not once had he ever seen her adopt a stern expression or chastise an initiate for overstepping their bounds. But the coldness in those slitted walnut eyes was unmistakable. Ghost said nothing, too intrigued to see where this would go to interfere.
When you pushed someone to their breaking point, there was often something valuable to be learned about that person’s character that you could use against them at a later date, if need be. He remembered once deeming Charlie untrustworthy, because those who went to such great lengths to hide their dark sides were often hiding something very dark, indeed. Could this be the moment that he finally glimpsed the part of Charlie’s soul that was hidden under lock and key? Finally, after a short eternity, she spoke. Charlie’s voice snapped like a whip as she asked Ghost if he thought this—if she was a game, and he repressed an involuntary jump, astonished at how close Charlie’s guess had come to the truth. Well, to an extent, everyone was a game—rub them the right way, and you’d win them over, earn their trust and you could cheat them for personal gain; the game was in getting to that point.
Ghost gave a pensive little scowl at her next words, internally debating their possible truth. Had Caspian just been making stuff up when he’d bragged of sleeping with a goddess like Charlie? Or was Charlie resorting to false claims as a means of saving face? He had yet to reach a verdict when Charlie blurted something so unexpected that it felt as though the floor had given way beneath him and he was falling clumsily and uncontrollably. Ghost’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Was it really possible that Caspian had…? How? Why? Hadn’t he and Charlie been thick as thieves? Thousands of explanations were circling through Ghost’s head, and he felt a strange flash of irritation toward Charlie for pausing and keeping him in suspense. Oh, hell no. She couldn’t just drop a bomb like that and not elaborate. If so… well then, maybe that unthinkable accusation really had been just a ploy for Ghost’s sympathy.
Charlie’s lower lip quivered. Tears gleamed in her eyes like tiny chips of diamond, and Ghost’s stomach gave an anxious flutter. Please don’t cry, he thought. Please, whatever you do… Emotional displays were not something the Holy Ghost could take, and just thinking of them made him want to melt into a puddle on the floor. It was a miracle that such a disaster hadn’t appeared in his fearscape. As if also sensing the impending danger, Charlie heaved a great sigh and blinked the tears into dissolution before turning her back on Ghost. She spoke without looking at him, and her voice was flat with resignation. The name Alice sent a torrent of recent memories boiling to the surface. When Charlie had taken Ghost to the rooftop of that old abandoned school two days ago, showing him around the place that she and her friends had utilized for training as initiates, she had talked at length about Alice. Still, other than her name, the girl was largely a mystery to Ghost. And from her frequent conversational reappearances, one that needed to be figured out if he wanted an understanding of the full picture.
The door slammed shut behind Charlie so hard that the wood trembled in its frame. Ghost was left standing alone with his thoughts in the middle of the simulation room. A disorderly tangle of emotions knit together inside of him: shock that Charlie had lashed out at him, disbelief at her wild allegations about Caspian, horror that Ghost himself had somehow managed to push her to her breaking point when no one else could, a burning need to sort facts from fiction. Could a girl lie about something like that? Dauntless was more patriarchal than any other faction, but disciplinary action still would have been taken against Caspian for rape, perhaps even expulsion from initiation. Other than what his gut was telling him, Ghost had no basis for what was true and what wasn’t short of outright asking Caspian, but such a topic would hardly make for polite conversation. Ghost’s head spun trying to imagine a world in which Caspian had exploited the weakness of someone who trusted him so wholly and completely.
If it were true, then he had betrayed Charlie in the worst way possible. Ghost had always disdained his roommate’s aversion to responsibility, but if it were true, then Caspian had just crossed a bridge from which there was no return. If it were true, then Caspian was as good as dead to Ghost, and Ghost intended to ascertain the truth one way or another. His head pulsed with the supersonic speed of his thoughts, and he knotted one hand in his pitch-black hair and raked it out of his face. “Dammit, Charlotte,” he said softly to the gray walls, eyes squeezed shut. “I have bigger problems to worry about than your years-old relationship drama.” At the top of that list was a certain blond-haired initiate with an uncanny knack for moving things with her mind. When reflecting on the unexplainable fact that Blair Avalon had superpowers, suddenly it wasn’t so impossible to believe that Caspian indeed might have raped Charlie in initiation.
Reminiscing the days when his life had been so much simpler, Ghost forced himself, mechanically, to cross the room and lock the door shut behind him. As Charlie had reminded him, training would be starting momentarily, and now that Ghost’s plans to train Leah in fearscapes had been blown sky high, he had no excuse to skip out on work. Business as usual, then. His feet started down the path to the training arena on autopilot, and Ghost resisted the urge to extract his box of playing cards and fiddle with them while he thought. Did all Divergents have some kind of superpower or another? It was too much of a coincidence that Blair should be both Divergent and superpowered for no connection to exist between the two, and detectives didn’t believe in coincidence. But then, Divergents were the subject of much secrecy, and Ghost seriously doubted that a veritable percentage of the population could hide full-fledged superpowers for very long without it coming to light. Most likely, Divergence and superpowers weren’t directly related, but neither could they be unrelated, either… There had to be some third variable that Ghost was missing at the present time. Unless of course he felt inclined to renew his suspicions that this was all in his head and he was losing his mind, because right now—
He had been rounding a corner and didn’t see the foot that was protruding from the base of one wall until he was almost tripping on it. Ghost stumbled but caught himself, trailing one hand along the same wall that his accidental assailant had sprung from. An automatic apology formed on his lips as he whirled, but when he saw the body to which the foot that had tripped him was connected, and that body raised its gaze to meet Ghost’s, he froze, formalities forgotten. Brandish Rose’s usually vibrant eyes were like the windows into a haunted house, somewhere dark and foreboding in which you didn’t want to find yourself alone. Ghost stood quietly, waiting for Randi to speak first, as was her wont. A low flame of self-loathing kindled in his belly at the memory of their duel yesterday, and how Ghost had lost when he had been so damn close to winning. That would not be the case during today’s competition in training. Ghost would be going for the crown, and short of that, he at least planned to take as many poor suckers down with him as he could.
Still, no conversation was forthcoming from Randi, until she eventually turned her pistachio gaze away from Ghost and cast it upon the floor. He tilted his head, nestling his chin in one palm, and wondered at the cause of this sudden shift in her usually sanguine demeanor. “No words, for once, Miss Rose?” Ghost began, a dry note in his voice. “What a pleasant surprise. Why, this almost makes up for picking up yesterday’s tab.” Randi’s head was bowed toward her knees, throwing her expression in shadow and making it unreadable to Ghost. Instead of responding to his teasing, Randi fired off a question about Alex, and what Ghost’s relationship was to him because they certainly weren’t friends. A jolt of electricity went through Ghost. Randi snapped her head up just then, as if to gauge his face before he could recover, and whatever she saw there was enough for her to tighten her lips and give a small nod, as if silently confirming a theory to herself.
You clumsy fool, Ghost fumed, livid at himself for giving his thoughts away. He wasn’t usually so transparent; that surprise encounter with Charlie must have really thrown him off. Ghost paused before responding, wondering what kind of approach would be most strategic. Playing dumb would only cause him to lose face when Randi had already discerned that Ghost was keeping something from her. Randi’s sudden question was—at least in part—clearly an attempt to avert conversation from the reason she was curled in a ball on the floor, and Ghost felt tempted to call her out on it. But how could he accuse her of changing the subject when they technically hadn’t even brought that subject up yet? Finally, seeing that he was cornered, Ghost licked his lips and asked, “What gave me away?” figuring that it was at least best to learn where his and Alex’s performance had gone wrong so he could avoid such mistakes in the future.
Randi just slowly cocked her head at him, eyes narrowed to slits, as if silently asking how dare Ghost insult her intelligence. A hot flush of embarrassment climbed up the pale column of his throat. “I see. Clearly my acting skills are not as adept as I thought they were. I… must say this comes as quite a blow to my self-esteem,” he faltered, stunned into unfiltered honesty. Ghost’s gaze flicked to the floor and he rubbed the back of his neck, unsure where to begin. “There is no simple answer to the question you ask. But I’ll give you the abbreviated version: Several years ago, Alex’s sister—Leah—and I were engaged, more or less. Well, there had never been a formal engagement, but a lot of politicking had gone on behind closed doors, and it was pretty much common knowledge among our parents’ social circles that we were meant to be together.” Ghost repetitively twirled a lock of hair around one finger; now came the portion of the story where he would have to choose his words carefully.
“So I’m sure that you can imagine the uproar I created by transferring factions when I was sixteen. Leah and Alex’s parents were humiliated to have been rejected in such a public way. And now that Leah herself has also transferred… her parents must be outraged. My guess is that yesterday was the first of a series of warning visits I’ll be receiving from Alex, gentle reminders that I’m no longer the suitable match for their daughter that I once was. Sometimes I forget myself, you see.” He ended with a sigh, staring dejectedly at the checkered pattern of floor tiles, all of his usual zealous resolve depleted. Threatening to force a lobotomy on Ghost in his fearscape had been a gentle reminder indeed. Ghost’s account of his relationship to Leah and Alex had omitted several not inconsiderable details, but none of what he said was untrue. “Are you all right?” Ghost suddenly asked, not wanting to talk about himself anymore. “Sitting slumped against the base of a wall minutes before training starts generally isn’t a good sign.” It was strange to see Brandish Rose alone and not surrounded by a posse of friends vying for her attention.
Randi climbed to her feet just then, as if to render Ghost’s question invalid, and instead asked if he was okay. It wasn’t a joke, but he felt a flicker of amusement all the same. “Deflecting my own question back at me? An effective tactic. Perhaps a bright future awaits you in politics, Brandish. Don’t worry, though, I won’t pry if you don’t want to talk.” That would take all the fun out of figuring out what happened for myself, anyway, he added quietly to himself. Lately, Ghost’s life felt like it had transformed into one logic puzzle after another, but instead of growing weary at the thought of another problem to solve, it only energized him. He loved challenges, especially intellectual ones. “Enough feeling sorry for ourselves. We’ll be lucky if we aren’t already late to training. Shall we call it a race?” Randi agreed, seeming delighted by the idea of a race, and Ghost felt his blood sing the way it always did before a competition. Randi aligned her feet next to his and declared “ready” and “set.” But she never got to go, because just as she drew breath, Ghost slammed his hip and shoulder into hers, hard, imbalancing Randi and sending her spinning into a wall. Ghost sprinted down the hall amid Randi’s cries of outrage.
Choosing to spend most of his free time playing online poker and reading philosophy, Ghost knew that he was no runner—at least not compared to the average Dauntless—and would probably need every advantage he could get. He turned one corner, and then another, his heart racing with thrill like it would when a younger version of himself pickpocketed amid a dense crowd with countless potential witnesses and the risk of getting caught was real. Just as he predicted, the distant footsteps trailing him soon halved the distance and continued to gain until Randi was right behind him. Damn, the girl was fast. Ghost willed his arms to pump faster, but already a stitch of pain prickled in his side. It appeared he had underestimated the distance to the training arena. Randi was going to overtake him. Determined not to lose, Ghost made a decision just as they turned down the final stretch of hallway, at the end of which were the double doors marking the entrance to the training arena from Phase One. As Randi prepared to pass him, he swiftly darted in front of her, cutting off her path, and suddenly stopped.
Randi pounded into Ghost’s back with all the force of a bullet. Her momentum transferred to him and he lurched forward, doubled over, feet moving frantically to keep from falling face-first to the floor. Randi wasn’t so lucky. Unlike Ghost, she hadn’t been braced for impact, and he heard her squeal of frustration but didn’t dare expend the time it would take to look back at her. Instead he capitalized on the burst of speed that their collision had lent him and dashed low and fast to the waiting doors, which were propped open and beckoning. Ghost skidded to a halt just inside, grinding his heels against the floor to keep from careening into a barrel-chested initiate obliviously chatting away. Triumph surged through Ghost as he heaved enormous lungfuls of air. He had won. He’d done it—with seconds to spare, he noted as he turned and glanced at the analog clock, which displayed nine o’clock, even. Excellent. Bailing on work altogether was one thing, but he would have been very upset with himself for showing up late when just yesterday he had publicly admonished a group of initiates for tardiness.
Ghost felt a hand close on his arm and turned to find Randi glaring at him with murderous intent. The expression on her face combined with the euphoria Ghost felt at winning was too much, and he burst into surprisingly easy laughter. Laughing only renewed his breathlessness, and it was a long minute before Ghost could speak, which gave Randi ample opportunity to chastise him for cheating. “You say cheating, but I say adapting. After all, I must account for my athletic shortcomings somehow!” he crowed, feeling immensely pleased with himself. Against all logic and odds, Ghost found himself smiling at Randi. It felt warm and giddy and a touch uncertain, like his lips had curved into a question mark that was wondering how it had gotten there. For a fraction of a second, all of Ghost’s problems vanished and the world condensed to this one moment, spent with someone who knew him just well enough to make him tick but not well enough to judge him for all the sins he had committed in the name of survival, and he wondered if this was how it felt to be genuinely, truly happy, because that had never mattered before.
The moment passed, as all good things do. Training was due to begin, and there was work to be done. Ghost detached himself from conversation with Randi and slipped her a wink before melting into the crowd of initiates, which kept to the edges of the room. The training arena was a sea of padded blue mats, everywhere—lining the walls, cushioning the floor, like a gymnasium created for the sole purpose of wrestling practice. Arrayed across the center mats was a variety of innocent-looking objects: a plastic toy sword, a pillow, a few jump ropes. None of them would inflict much if any damage when swung or thrown at another person, and all were roughly the same size of the hologram weapons they would transform into.
A chair held a plastic tray in one corner of the room, and from it Ghost plucked a pair of amber goggles that looked like they could have been used in a steampunk cosplay. In order to view the weapon forms of the constellation of everyday objects scattered across the floor, the goggles were essential. For now he clipped them onto the front of his shirt. Ghost surveyed the floor for a specific someone. The ruthless efficiency with which the equipment had been organized reeked of Harper, and a rush of gratitude compelled Ghost to thank her. He honestly hadn’t expected anyone else to take care of the responsibility of setting up for him, figuring that, as lead instructor, he’d have to scramble to do it himself in front of the initiates and cut into their valuable training time. Ghost spotted the swish of Harper’s long coffee-colored ponytail and hustled toward her, acutely aware that it was time to get started.
“Harper!” he called, and she turned, eyeing Ghost with her usual mix of wariness and surprise, as if she had half-expected him to ditch work today and was slightly disappointed to see that wasn’t the case. “Please let me apologize for any inconvenience that my late arrival might have caused you, but the room looks great! Thank you so much for setting up in my absence. You did a fine job of it, and I’ll be sure to mention your helpfulness in my next report. Speaking of, have you prepared your notes on the simulations for my examination yet?” He heard a curt clearing of a throat behind him and turned in shock to find Aubrey Stark and Finn Day standing there, arms crossed and feet tapping, eyeing him with impatience. “Oh, my apologies,” Ghost said, embarrassed to have committed such a flagrant breach of etiquette. He retreated a step from the close-knit group of Dauntless-born. “Am I interrupting something?”

 

[jrink]

It should've been obvious from the moment the words slipped from his lips - no, the moment they'd even occurred to him - that Fable would never go for such a suggestion. She was nice, much nicer then Dante felt he could ever afford to be. Perhaps it would have been a different story if he had chosen Erudite for his faction, had his parents and their connections to lean on as well as his own acquaintances accumulated over the years. But here, he was alone. They were alone. They didn't have the same experience to cling to like the aforementioned Blair, or even nepotism like her boyfriend. So he and Blair needed to be a little more... ruthless. This situation called for it.

For a moment Dante toyed with the idea of jabbing his point home with a reference to his best-friend's past faction, maybe point out that her birth-ingrained selflessness was getting in the way of her survival. But one look at her endearingly mismatched gaze was enough to wipe any thought of that away. He could be cruel, but not too Fable. He couldn't risk isolating her, not his closest friend, his only ally. He'd have to convince her another way. As guilt pricked his thoughts like a needle, Dante averted his dark eyes from Fable, directed them towards the sky. It was brighter now, morning was beginning to creep into early afternoon. It was probably just about time for training, for whatever activity the trainers wanted to subject them to this time around.

Shaking his head to clear it, Dante pushed a slightly forced smile to his lips as he made eye contact with Fable once more.

"Let's just talk about this later, okay? We probably need to head towards training And while a shower would be nice, we probably don't have the time."

The hint of humor he inserted at the end of his little speel didn't quite have the lightening effect he'd intended to his ears. But Dante still inserted the necessary chuckle at the end as he got to his feet though he was content with Fable leading the way.

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{ MOOD }
brooding

{ LOCATION }
still... 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: Chris Nerdy. Poppy Wolfiee and Randi Sanctuaryforall1

Blair felt the weight of the world slowly being lifted from her shoulders. First, Christians warm embrace, his mere presence had been enough to smooth her nerves. After Ghost’s attack her social battery had all but died, leaving her in a strange in between state. She was present in the moment, and yet thoughts of Ghost and his chaotic proposal continued to sew seeds of guilt into her mind. That was, until she was once again reunited with Christian and her troubles seemed to melt away. As a divergent, it was common for Blair to feel like she didn’t belong, her status quite literally meant she didn’t fit into any of the factions, even the one she was born into. But when she was with Christian, she knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Blair savored every moment of alone time she had with her boyfriend, attempting to make up for all their days apart in a single minute. That was when she heard Poppy’s familiar voice.

Another smile broke out on Blair’s lips. Christian, and her two best friends, all here with her. This was exactly what she needed after the morning she had had. As the group of four began making their way towards training things were, oddly enough, starting to feel normal again. But of course, that feeling was short lived as they all stumbled across the gruesome sight in front of them. Blair heard the scream before she felt it rip from her throat. Had it even come from her throat? She had always prided herself on her unfailing bravery, but in that moment, any strength the blonde had left crumbled into dust. She hadn’t known him well, in fact, if you had asked her yesterday what the boy looked like she probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you... but she knew he wasn’t supposed to look like that.

Limbs protruding at jagged, unnatural angles. Eyes that were still open, but lifeless. She didn’t know skin could be that pale... Blair couldn’t stand to stare any longer and quickly whirled around to bury her face in Christian’s chest. His arms wrapped around her small frame, gently stroking her hair, providing what little comfort he could as she bit back tears. She didn’t know why she was crying, she hadn’t even known Ben, perhaps it was just shock... or perhaps the recent days had just left her unable to conceal emotions she would normally hide.

It wasn’t until Randi took off running that Blair was able to attempt to pull herself back to reality. “We should tell one of the instructors...” she sniffled softly, but her tone was even, as though she was slowly regaining her composure. There was nothing they could do for Ben now. There was no safe way for them to get down into the chasm, and even if they did manage such a feat, there was no way they’d be able to pull him out... plus, Blair wasn’t entirely sure she had the stomach for that right now. The blonde straightened her back, lacing her fingers through Christian’s as they slowly finished their journey to the training rooms. She struggled to push the image of Ben’s contorted body out of her mind. She needed to clear her head or her standing in the ranks would surely suffer for it. “Stay with me okay?” She mumbled softly, her blue eyes peering up at Christian. Whatever they were doing in training today, she wanted to stay by Christian’s side. It was the only place she felt safe, her protected harbor in a sea of horrors.

 

[xayah.]

LEAH YOUNG

erudite to dauntless | 16 | initiate​

Despite having known Ghost for all her life, Leah had never seen him so completely drained. He was slick with cold sweat and paler than usual with eyes that saw but didn't perceive. He made no effort to hide it, most likely because he couldn't, which was both a surprise and mystery to Leah. Maybe it was because every high ranking Erudite family practiced putting on facades daily, or because being fake was now practically second nature to him, but the Ferris she knew would've made any effort to have some witty remark available that could divert the attention from his current state somewhere else. Instead, all Leah received was a glance in her direction in return. The shell of a man in front of her forced out a 'thank you' that would've been inaudible if the two of them weren't sitting in complete silence, but they were. Not even the sound of quiet breathing was heard from either of them. The two just lingered there, as if still processing what they saw, without a care for how much time had or would pass.
Thanks to sitting in complete silence for an undeterminable amount of time, Leah's sense became more heightened than before. The sound of footsteps in the hallway which were immediately followed by the jingle of keys and the turning of the door handle alarmed her. The only people with access to these rooms were instructors, and no matter who was opening the door, seeing an initiate and instructor together was enough reason to disqualify Leah from initiation. Just the thought of being factionless was enough to get her heart pounding, but the sight of Charlie stilled it, even if only for a moment. Charlie was one of the nicer instructors. Even if she was punished, Leah didn't think Charlie had it in her to make someone factionless, a death sentence essentially. It was a little strange that Charlie decided to do a random patrol of the fearscape rooms. Someone must have told her, an initiate most likely, but that was an issue to be solved later. Then, Leah remembered. Her eyes flitted back and forth from Ferris to Charlie, and then back to Ferris' fearscapes, and the young initiate caught between two instructors began dreading not being at training.
Hearing Charlie ask her to leave, Leah got up from sitting on her heels. Despite the pain she felt in her legs from maintaining that position for so long, she refused to let it show on her face. It would just make the situation even more embarrassing by letting Charlie know the two of them were in the room long enough to be sore. Nonetheless, despite being grateful for an opportunity to escape from the awkward situation, Leah felt a twinge of concern for Ferris. She glanced over at him with undetectable concern and was met with a cold, authoritative response as if she hadn't seem him utterly unhinged a few moments ago. Taking it as a get out of jail free pass, Leah strided out of the room and headed to training, hoping to sneak in undetected.
Luckily, Leah found herself arriving on time. The room was already set up and well prepared, as expected of Harper, but initiates were still filing in albeit slowly. As one of the last arrivals, Leah wasn't paid much mind. People with already established cliques were chatting away as they waited for training to begin, and at this point in initiation, the Erudite princess had become a wallflower. Not that there was anything wrong with that. She took her brief moment away from most of the other initiates to collect herself and prepare for the reckless training that was going to happen in a bit.

 

[Baratheon]

Finn Day

Finn grinned at Night. He hadn't known the other boy long, but he seemed fun and down for any kind of shenanigans. Maybe they could hang out more in the future. His mind was only on getting to training before it was too late, though, as he watched Aubrey fall from the sky. Despite her being the last one, Finn knew she was likely the bravest of them all. Him not being fully Dauntless, and Night seemingly not as bold led him to think that she was still the head of the group of initiates. He had a long way to go before he could match her Dauntless fire. But hey, things could change. Finn wondered what they would do today.

Aubrey giggled as she joined them, and his smile turned softer as he turned to look at her. She didn't meet his gaze, though, and soon enough the three were headed on to the training room. To his surprise, they weren't last, and only a few people were wandering around the room. The teen breathed a sigh of relief and followed Aubrey to the water bottle table. As she drank, he sat down on the floor to stretch a little, still feeling the burn of the cuts on his knees and palms. He hoped that wouldn't slow him much today. Aubrey tossed him a bottle and he drank a little as he sat on the floor in a perfect split. The cool water, air conditioning, and stretching felt good on his pumped-up body.

As more people wandered in, Finn stood again and finished off his water. He took a quick sniff of his shirt to make sure he wasn't too smelly, then began to walk towards his sister to say hi. He was interrupted, though, by Aubrey giving him a sharp poke with her elbow. "Ow..." He muttered, but followed her gaze. Woah. Charlie looked upset for sure. He narrowed his eyes, but knew that going up to her now would be a bad idea. It was interesting to see that whatever she was going through had no schedule or obvious antecedents. It just happened.

Aubrey still seemed suspicious but instead went to Harper, asking when to begin. Finn's mood brightened at the thought. Ghost wandered in a moment later, finally, to begin, but to everyone's surprise, Harper took the lead. She announced a free-for-all as today's training. "Yes!" Finn cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Everyone was going down!

She continued, explaining the weapons and points system. Finn could barely listen. His mind raced, thinking from weapons to strategy to alliances. Should he and Aubrey team up? Or would it end the same as last time? He didn't want that to happen again. The boy flashed her a look as they took their places at the edge of the arena his sister had set up. He wondered what she was thinking, but since Harper was still shouting, there was no way they could talk. Finn wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt as he readied himself to run. Where to? He couldn't think straight this was all so sudden. Should he grab a knife? Depend on his quick feet? What was Aubrey going to- no, no, stop thinking about Aubrey! Finn shook his head. She was going to lone wolf it, he was sure, to get to the top without a hitch. He had to think the same way-

GO!

Harper's shout made him stumble forward in surprise, and before he knew it, the event had begun.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

Harper Day

Harper turned to gaze at Aubrey as the young girl's familiar voice broke through her thoughts. "Eager, huh? Well, whenever your most timely and elegant lead instructor shows up, I'm sure he'll let us begi-" Lo and behold, there he was, scruffy hair and dead eyes, walking in with an air of casuality. Did he not even care? Harper narrowed her eyes as he surveyed the training room for a moment before finally approaching the small group that had formed around her. He called her name, and she eyed him with wariness. A little disappointing that he actually did show up. If she had led class today, the initiates would probably be whipped into shape in a few hours. But no, here was Ghost, ready to do whatever he wanted instead. She listened as he went on to praise her, going on and on before abruptly asking about her report.

She knew his praises were too kind to be without something behind them.

"Thanks. And yeah, I have, maybe if you checked your files once in a while you would have seen it," She responded, placing her hands on her hips. A smirk came to the young woman's face as he realized what was going on around him. "Not at all! We had just decided to begin." Her voice, while not malicious, was definitely dripping with sarcasm.

While a moment ago she was waiting for Ghost, now that he was here, Harper decided to take the reigns. He obviously didn't care for this event, and so she would run it. It was a fast decision, and one that made her heart race with the sudden energy, but one she was willing to take the risk for. She kept one eye on his face to see his reaction as she stepped on his leadership position to take it for herself.

"Alright everyone, gather around! Today's training is going to consist of a free for-all-fight around the room. You can team up, go solo, fight, hide, whatever you want to do. Your goal is to be the last one standing and therefore the winner of the round. The last five people will earn points in increments of ten; fifth getting ten, fourth getting twenty, and so on until the last person standing earns fifty points for themselves." Her voice rang out clear and strong. "There is a pile of weapons in the center of the room. You are free to use your own hands or any weapons you get your hands on. Like our previous fights, they are holograms and won't actually harm you. However, upon contact it will feel like they hit you for real. If you're 'hurt' enough within a short time, you'll be unconscious for five minutes and, of course, out. Everyone understand?"

She paused here. The initiates stared back at her with wide eyes. Some looked scared, some excited, even others like they wanted to do anything else than that. Their faces brought a smirk to her own. "Alright, everyone find a spot on the outside of the area I marked off. Again, you are free to use any weapon you can and fight however you wish. This is Dauntless. We don't play nice and we don't pull punches." The initiates began to find their places, their eyes darting to the weapons, to each other, and even to her. She tightened her ponytail and nodded to Ghost and Charlie. The instructors had already come up with this surprise earlier- surprisingly, something both she and Ghost agreed on. This would be a great way to test the kids' skills and quick-thinking when variables changed in a situation. Harper took her own place on the side, eyeing a sword placed high on the stack.

"Oh, and the instructors will be competing as well. So feel free to beat the crap out of Ghost, if you want. Ready? GO!"

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

 

[Aviator]

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

For whatever reason, Ghost blinked in surprise upon hearing Harper’s retort. It wasn’t so much the fact that she had insulted him that caught him off guard—at least one insult was standard fare when conversing with Harper—but the fact that it had been so crass and… distasteful. He had been expecting something more subtle, cleverer, that might have slipped past the notice of the unwary. How disappointing, Ghost thought privately. Externally, however, he knew better than to make a scene. He was a gentleman, after all, and not the Dauntless ripoff of one; he wouldn’t rise to such obvious bait. “Ah, my apologies, again. I shall see to it immediately, once we finish up here. Thank you for your cooperation.” He nodded once, his gaze earnest. He nodded once, and brainstormed a short list of things he could do to wipe that disgusting smirk off Harper’s face.
A sharp stab of envy suddenly took Ghost. Ever since his own graduation from initiation, a vital part of his self-esteem had been propped up on finishing at the top of his class. Specifically finishing ahead of Harper, perhaps Ghost’s greatest rival, whom he had unfortunately known long before their mutual initiation. But after today’s disgraceful performance in his fearscape—which had taken almost twice the time as his attempts as an initiate—that victory now felt hollow, meaningless. Something deep had shifted inside Ghost, and just at a glance, he knew that Harper’s fearscape score would blow his own out of the water if they were to compete like old times.
Ghost recalled how euphoric it had felt for Malia Wolfharde to meet with him in person and sing his praises just after graduation and offer him a position on Dauntless’s leadership panel. For the first time in a long time, she had made him feel recognized, and needed, rather than everyone’s liability. A dangerous beat had passed when he almost caved to her offer. But four years of living in Baneberry had taught him to resent society’s upper crust, who were willing to step on anyone if it meant personal gain. Self-righteous and stubborn to the end, Ghost had rejected her offer, refusing to rejoin the corrupt elite that he had forsaken so long ago. And now, two years later, working a thankless job and teaching thankless kids for a fraction of the pay he could have been making and keeping secrets that would likely get him killed if they came to light, Ghost wondered if that rejection had been the single most stupid decision of his life, or perhaps in the history of Dauntless leadership. Other freshly graduated initiates would have killed for such an opportunity, and Ghost had knowingly thrown it away.
But Harper Day was recognized and needed wherever she went. Born from a solid Dauntless bloodline and having proven her irrefutable skill as a soldier, most of the faction knew her name and would shower her with praise, if given the chance. She was so strong, so capable, with friends who would miss her if she were to suddenly vanish one day. In a way, she had everything Ghost had ever wanted. Unlike him, Harper belonged in Dauntless and probably wasn’t battered every day by ceaseless questions of what if she had chosen a different faction. Standing slightly apart from the three pairs of Dauntless-born eyes trained on him, Ghost was acutely reminded that he was an outsider, and probably always would be. He couldn’t help thinking that Harper, Aubrey, and Finn in their Dauntless black resembled a flock of carrion birds ready to pick over his bones.
Ghost had been so lost in thought that a second passed before he registered Harper’s next answer, and by then he was unable to determine whether she had meant it in sincerity or irony. Although he couldn’t imagine a reality in which Harper would pass up what had been more or less a free shot to his pride, Ghost decided to take her words at face value. The corners of his lips quirked, and he glowed a little, as if Harper had just complimented him. Hell, not immediately ousting Ghost from her ongoing conversation with Aubrey and Finn was probably as close to a compliment as he’d ever get from her… or from most Dauntless-born. “How kind of you,” he responded smoothly. “But I don’t wish to impose, especially when it’s high time that we get training underway. Time is money, after all!” Prior to his and Harper’s strained conversation, Ghost had been in an affable mood when he and Randi raced to the training arena, and he drew on the phantom memory of that elation to interject a small smile into his exclamation, ignoring the way that it made his face feel like it might crack.
Turning to leave, Ghost drew his coat around him a little more snugly out of habit, as if it weren’t still the first week of July. Pivoting put him in eye contact with Aubrey and Finn, and he addressed them directly for the first time. “I wish you the best of luck in the upcoming contest, but don’t think this means I’ll go easy on either of you should we happen to cross paths,” he said amiably. Ghost dipped his head in farewell and walked a few paces toward the center of the room, redirecting his focus to the milling throngs of initiates and how best to address them. He had just finished organizing his thoughts and cleared his throat to speak when a booming voice behind him trumpeted over the low din, and silence fell like a curtain upon the initiates. Ghost spun, one eyebrow lifted in mild surprise. Oh, what is this? he thought, intrigued as Harper took the initiative to describe the day’s training exercise. He waited to see if she merely meant to call the initiates to attention and would then surrender control to Ghost, but Harper never paused.
A surprising turn of events, he mused to himself but didn’t interrupt to try and wrest her audience away. Ghost had found that often there was much more to learn from listening than speaking, so he calmly put his hands in his pockets and stayed quiet. Was Harper stealing the show supposed to be a challenge to Ghost’s authority? Or was this just practice for climbing the corporate ladder? Many Dauntless dreamed of positions on the leadership panel, but few had Harper’s tireless work ethic to actually propel themselves there. Ghost distantly wondered just how far would Harper Day be willing to go for her desired career and found his eyes flickering toward her brother, Finley. If Finn somehow managed to finish at the top of the current class and was offered a spot on the panel, might that cause a permanent rift between the siblings? And if so, what did Ghost stand to gain from such a rift? If he and Blair Avalon couldn’t come to an agreement, then maybe it wouldn’t be too late for Ghost to reclaim the offer that he had declined so long ago. Turning in a confirmed Divergent to the higher-ups would certainly curry favor with them, if not with Ghost’s original employer, Jiao-Long Young… Could he really stab the girl who had put her blind faith in him in the back, though?
“My, my.” He relished the little involuntary jump that Brandish Rose gave before she whirled on him, blazing with indignation. She evidently hadn’t heard Ghost approach, as had been his intent. “I’d better step up my game. The second I turn my back, that woman will have my job—and quite possibly my head, too. Assuming that I don’t have hers first, of course.” He wore a wry twist of lips that could have been construed as a smirk in the right light. Ghost took a half step closer to Randi, so that she could hear him when he spoke in an undertone. “If it isn’t too much a bother, may I ask a favor, Brandish? Excellent. As soon as Harper gives the cue to start, would you do me the trouble of distracting her, please? By any means necessary; just buy me a few seconds. You have my word that I shall somehow repay the favor,” he finished with a solemn nod. Ghost hated being in another’s debt, but it was a calculated loss when there was so much to gain, should his plan succeed.
Randi opened her mouth to either protest Ghost’s deal or question his intent, but at that moment Harper announced they would be beginning the free-for-all imminently. Ghost counted his lucky stars; for once in her life, Harper had bestowed a blessing upon him, if perhaps unwittingly. “Well, I wish we could chat some more, but it seems as though the time for idle talk has passed,” he chirped at Randi. More quietly he added, “Kick her ass for me, but not too much, okay?” Without waiting for the green-eyed girl’s response, Ghost turned and dissolved into the pack of initiates scrambling to find adequate space for themselves around the fringes of the room. He eyed the assortment of weapons at the very center of the room: hologram staffs, axes, whips, brass knuckles, machetes, even a bow and arrows… and precisely one sword. A straight-blade ninjato with a square hand guard and a foot and a half of glittering steel basked near the very top of the pile.
Ghost sucked in a breath. To her credit, Harper sure wasn’t making things easy for herself, or for him, either. A few less powerful weapons were scattered outward from the main pile, mostly knives, shuriken, and brass knuckles, none of which were likely to prevail against a charge from someone with one of the heavy melee weapons. However, they could potentially aid in the acquisition of a more powerful weapon, if the wielder was taken by surprise. Ghost wasn’t slow, but neither was he a particularly fast sprinter—as had his race with Randi proven—so he doubted he would get first dibs on the weapons cache, and on the ninjato. It would probably come to snatching up a knife and ambushing whoever had stolen his prize.
As he found an empty space for himself near one corner of the room, Ghost was faintly aware of his blood surging, of his pulse roaring in his ears, of the rush of nervous excitement that swept him up and threatened to overwhelm him. Strategizing before a fight always dialed him up, but this was a special case. Ghost was planning one hell of a gamble by taking that ninjato for himself. Harper was a trained fencer, and swords were her signature weapon. Having Randi distract her while Ghost snagged the only sword on the floor would be like waving a bag of gold in front of a pickpocket’s face. Harper would come for him, undoubtedly. She was too smart to get “killed” early on in the match, and she would try her damnedest to defeat Ghost and take that sword from his corpse. And that was exactly what he wanted: a duel with her, nothing held back. If Harper wasn’t willing to give him one of her own volition, then he would make her.
Ghost’s eyes were locked on the ninjato when Harper gave the call to go! His mind made up, he didn’t hesitate, tearing toward the weapons cache like a bullet shot from a gun. The world was reduced to a wash of background noise, and Ghost’s feet pounded so fast that he had the vague impression they were no longer touching the ground. The distance between him and the pile melted from ninety feet, to seventy, then forty… Ghost was still several yards away when the first pair of initiates reached the weapons cache simultaneously and began playing tug-of-war over a battle axe, punching each other with their free hands in fierce, jarring blows. Ghost hadn’t made it, but he hadn’t expected to. Diving into the weapons cache now when it was already attracting a crowd would be suicide. He broke into a slide to halt his forward momentum, scooping up a double-edged dagger that he passed. Ghost’s heart was hammering and his legs were tingling with a mix of exertion and pre-battle nerves, and he almost didn’t clamber to his feet in time to avoid the swoop of another knife toward his neck, slicing a silvery afterimage into the air.
Panic flared in his chest and Ghost reacted on instinct, too imbalanced to try and properly parry the strike. Instead, he bent backward to avoid the blow, folding like a reed in the wind, and the knife passed within an inch of nicking his chin. Pinching his own dagger in the pocket between his thumb and forefinger, Ghost continued flinging himself backward until his feet left the ground, and for a fraction of a second he hung suspended in the air, feeling weightless, until his palms slammed into the floor and he kicked his legs up and over his head. Ghost landed in a standing position, knees slightly bent, tossing sooty-black bangs out of his eyes. A back handspring, perfectly executed. Ghost had several years of acro dance under his belt, and what his physique lacked in sheer strength and endurance, he made up for with agility and keen reflexes. As much as he hated to run from a fight, he was already pressed for time if he wanted to get that sword. So he tightened his grip on his knife and veered around his frustrated assailant, zigzagging away. Now that individuals were arming themselves, he didn’t trust anyone not to try and take him out with a well-thrown knife or other projectile.
Ghost kept to the outskirts of the weapons cache, circling, not daring to make a move when there was already a small crowd gathered there. He was relieved to see that no one had scooped up the ninjato and made off with it during his brief scuffle. Finally, hunkering down low as if praying no one would see her, a lithe red-headed shape wove through messes of bodies. Isabella Quinn streaked directly toward the pile, not aggressing any fights along the way. She didn’t stop when she reached it. Just flung her hand out to the side, closed it around the hilt of the ninjato, and sped for the other side of the floor. Ghost briefly paused, checking to make sure that no one was pursuing Isabella or aiming projectiles at her. And luckily, no one was. Other than him, of course.
He dashed a few steps to the side, closing some of the distance between Isabella and himself, and cocked back his left arm with the dagger. Ghost planted his feet and brought up his right arm for balance, fingertips stretching toward Bella. He whipped the knife at her retreating back. Ghost hit left of center and a little low, but the knife stuck, and it was enough to topple Bella onto her face. He hastened toward her, the girl whom he had defended from Indira’s abuse, and as he did, his mind strangely flashed to the question that he had just asked himself minutes ago, about whether he would be willing to stab Blair Avalon in the back if it would secure his career. His career in a faction he despised, but still. There was always more than one route to success.
Ghost crouched beside Isabella and immediately went to work trying to pry the sword from her grasp; there would be time for gloating later, after he used this same sword to vanquish Harper. But for some reason, Isabella stubbornly clung to the ninjato, lifting her head off the floor just enough to level a glare at Ghost. “Oh please, Miss Quinn,” Ghost muttered half to himself as he popped to his feet. “Let’s not be a sore loser.” He calmly straightened his coat and dealt her a kick to the ribs, digging upward with the toe of his boot so that Isabella flipped onto her back with a screech of pain. How fascinating, Ghost thought, watching her suffering. Since the human body was certainly no hologram, hits inflicted with the fists or feet would leave actual damage, while pain caused with the hologram weapons was entirely illusory—even though real versions of those weapons would have had greater potential for devastation, ironically enough.
Bella lay gasping, the ninjato abandoned and out of reach of her grasping fingers. With cold efficiency, Ghost snatched up the weapon, raised it high in an overhand blow, and sank to one knee as he united the cutting edge with Isabella’s throat. He knew the weapon wasn’t real, and he wasn’t actually killing Isabella Quinn, but it was still strange to pack such force into a blow and not be rewarded with even a drop of blood for all his efforts. A shudder ran through Isabella, and her limbs slackened, eyes drooping closed, long hair fanning across the floor and forming a striking contrast of red on blue mat. Ghost held the ninjato across his upturned palms, examining the hologram for a flaw that would indicate it was only that. But if there was such a flaw, it was invisible to him. He wondered if the hologram weapons would appear indistinguishable to Blair, too, what with her Divergence.
Lowering the ninjato to his side, Ghost spared one last glance for the motionless Isabella Quinn, a minimally formidable opponent. Now that he had the sole sword on the battlefield, Harper was guaranteed to make a move for him, probably sooner rather than later. She would present a challenge, yes, and Ghost truly wasn’t sure whether he would win the duel, but he would be damned to go down half as easily as Isabella had. Either way, he figured that even if he did beat Harper, he would likely be too wounded to win the free-for-all from there. That was okay, though. He had bigger fish to fry than a bunch of rambunctious Dauntless kiddies who likely didn’t know which end of a sword to hold. Harper was the real goal, and he wouldn’t deviate from it no matter the cost. Ghost did a quick scan of the room and wasn’t surprised to find Harper Day’s eyes already fastened on him, raking over him like a steel-toothed comb. His expression neutral, he dipped his head once in acknowledgment, silently saying, I’ll be waiting for you. Not wanting to stay in one place for too long, Ghost scurried away from Bella’s body before anyone else caught him idling and got the idea to challenge him themselves.

 

[Nerdy.]

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

Charlie said nothing, she made no move to speak to anyone or interact at all. When Ghost entered the room she made an active effort to keep her eyes away from him and her expression neutral, hopefully. She didn't want to think anymore, she didn't want to feel anymore, she didn't want to be here right now. She felt more empty than she had in a very long time, the argument with Ghost had been just as painful as any physical abuse her father had ever given her... was it because of her affection towards Ghost? The memory of Caspian... or something entirely different?
Charlie sighed, wanting to hurry up and start with training, although she hadn't quite agreed to do this, Harper and Ghost had talked about having the instructors join in with the fray, Charlie had felt like she did not count as an instructor, and she didn't want to be a part of the free-for-all. That was how she had felt yesterday, and this morning. But now? She was ready to for something like this, whether or not she got anyone out, or did well, in the end it would help her vent out the frustration she was holding inside her chest, and it would get some energy out of her. Plus, a 5 minute nap without nightmares sounded heavenly, what was a little pain beforehand? She shook her head, shivering slightly. Where the hell is your mind at Charlie, get over it, get over Ghost, get over Caspian, get over everything. Pull yourself together.

She positioned herself around the edge of the training area alongside some of the initiates. Her eyes on the middle of the matt, she could make that before most of the kids, if she could do anything well it was run. Her eyes set on the middle of the weapons cache, what weapon could she even use? She was not strong enough to use something big like a battle axe, nor was she efficient enough with a sword or a smaller melee weapon... Yet she was not so good with smaller melee weapons either, as they required very close contact and she was sure to be overwhelmed by them. Plus... SHe looked around the room, she didn't really want to hurt or take down any of the kids... She sighed, and made up her mind, if she could, she would grab that staff. If anything, at least the energy and adrenaline of running to it would be enjoyable. Hopefully. She listened, waiting or Harper to finish explaining to the kids what was going to happen, and Charlie made sure to nod at Harper, so she knew that Charlie was indeed playing today, something she had not made up her mind about until right this second. Clearing her mind, she breathed slowly and rhythmically, trying to keep her heart beat steady, even as it already hammered in her chest like a gong. She took one glance at Ghost, was he even thinking about her, or the conversation they'd just had? Or was he so cold that he had forgotten it, and cared so little for her that he would relish upon having such a dirty secret on her. She shook her head, her eyes going back to the staff in the middle of the room. She had to outrun a large number of people, but she was fairly sure she could do it.

GO

Charlie's legs did not disappoint, and she took off, easily sprinting ahead of the initiates who were right beside her. She could see others were at the same speed she was, sprinting towards the middle, people like Aubrey and FInn, who had reacted quickly. She needed to be faster. Charlie put her all into her legs, feeling the burning sensation from them complaining. But finally she reached the middle just as a few others had also done. Instead of waiting to get murdered by some zealous initiates, she leaped over the pile of weapons, grabbing the bo-staff as she did, using the staff as a propeller she barreled feet first into Aubrey's chest, knocking her over and causing her to sprawl over the ground. Charlie immediately felt some guilt at that, knowing that it could very well mean that Aubrey would get taken out. "Sorry Sis!" She said quickly, even as she ran away from the middle to get her groundings. Aubrey would be fine... plus, she should have been watching anyway. Charlie looked around, would she actually initiate a fight with someone? If she were to do that, she would only want to with one of the instructors, it felt unfair to do so with one of the kids... maybe she would just play the safe game and stay around the edges... Charlie would have loved to do this, except she could see a few others doing this as well. Chris and Blair seemed to be teaming up, that was sweet, and they were sticking to the edges... Blair looked very pale, and were those more bruises and scratches than the last time she had seen Blair? Charlie could have sworn that there were extra injuries on her... plus she looked as if she had seen a ghost..
Ghost..

Charlie's eyes flickered to Ghost, he had been just as ballsy as her, but slower. He hadn't gotten the weapon of his choice, which interestingly seemed to be a sword, he had instead had to race down Bella to get it off of her. Why was he so... interested in a sword of all things? Charlie was trying to figure this out as she saw Ghost and Harper make eye contact, and she understood. He was challenging Harper to a duel of some kind? Typical. Yet at that point was when Harper was taken almost by surprise by a very fiery Aubrey who had assailed herself upon Harper. Obviously wanting to take out an instructor, of course. Charlie chuckled slightly, and then yelped in pain as something flew out of the air and hit her in the shoulder. Sinking into the skin and piercing her muscles, or at least that's how it felt, she reached back to grab the shuriken out of her shoulder. What the hell... Charlie looked around, trying to figure out who had done this, but it was nearly impossible from the flood of initiates on the floor, not to mention that shuriken's were very easy to hide and throw out of nowhere. So instead of waiting for her assailant to hit her again, Charlie began to run in a different direction, dodging kids, using her staff to knock away weapons that were aimed at her, and being ready to leap with it if needed. That's exactly what she did, as Lizzie dove for her feet, causing Charlie to leap up, aiming down with the staff, and hitting her square between the shoulders. That simple little punt to the ground did not knock her out of course, but Charlie was aware of exactly where to hit someone to knock them out, hologram or not. And so she let her stand, eyes staring at her intensely, before she went for her again, just as she knew she would. Sidestepping her easily, Charlie used the staff quickly to rap her quite promptly on her temple, watching her eyes glaze over as she fell to the ground unconscious. She felt a little guilty from doing that.

Not wanting to be taken by surprise again, Charlie looked around her, and her eyes met with Ghost. She froze. Even now his gaze was difficult to pull away from. She hated it. Usually she loved it. But right now. She wanted that gaze off of her, and with no control over her. She could not tell what emotion Ghost was currently having towards her, but she quite purposefully stepped towards him, ready to give him a duel of some sort. He looked surprised at this, and she almost smiled. Her right shoulder stung still from that shuriken that had hit her, but her left arm was strong and that was the one she would use the most anyway.

Interacting with: Ghost Aviator

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

Aubrey was filled more and more with excitement as it ticked closer and closer to the time allotted for the free-for-all. She began to hop up and down, a silly, childish move that she had always done as a child when she was excited. "This is going to be so much fun! Look at all those weapons in the middle! Oh they look amazing! I really want to try out those axes, or maybe the bow and arrows, or what about those throwing knives, or that beautiful sword.... What do you think you'll go for? You going to run into the center? Or are you going to stand by the edges? What about.." Aubrey had not realized she had been talking over Harper until Harper's voice boomed out above the noise, yelling a "GO" that everyone jumped at. Aubrey's legs were moving before her mind even processed it, she grinned, oh how much fun this would be. No more stupid fear simulations and crying and fake pain. No this would be real pain with real fighting, only a small sacrifice of having hologram weapons... she wished they would have real ones instead, however that would have been way too dangerous... But she was hoping to make some people hurt... for fun of course, not because she hated anyone... Nope just because she enjoyed this part of training a lot more. Give me pain over fear any day. She told herself, watching as people centered in on the weapons cache in the middle. No. She wanted those axes badly. She would look like a viking queen with those, and it would be awesome. She knew that if she wanted to win she probably should go for knives, which is what she was most efficient at, but axes were very similar, and it wasn't every day that you got to use weapons like that.

Aubrey was also surprised by Charlie's bravery in running towards the middle, and that surprise is what took Aubrey out, quite literally. Aubrey was so set on being the first one there, and never assuming that Charlie would do something quite so aggressive as she did, that when Charlie's feet came smashing into Aubrey's chest, Aubrey was knocked back, only barely hearing her sister throw out a small apology. Wow... Low move. I should have been expecting that though... Aubrey rolled out the way as a large weapon was hit into the ground beside her face, which would have taken her out if she had not rolled. moving quickly, still working on getting those axes, Aubrey knocked the legs out of the person who had tried to hit her, and as they stumbled to the ground she skipped away, heading back to the middle. Luckily nobody had taken her axes yet, instead they were fighting for other weapons. Aubrey ran with all her might, and then cursed as someone had just gotten to her axes, bending down to grab them. "NO DON'T YOU DARE THOSE ARE F*CKING MINE!" Aubrey screamed, and squaring her shoulders she ran straight into their back, watching as they stumbled for footing, dropping one of the axes, she bent down to grab the axe, dodging the swing of the axe coming towards her face, instead aiming her own at that swing, hitting the person in the wrist, essentially breaking it (well.. not really), and causing them to scream in pain, as Aubrey grabbed the axe that now fell to the ground again. "Thank you!" She chimed in a sing song voice, before skipping away again, her eyes set on taking out a very specific person. Harper.
WHy Harper? Well... if she could take out Harper, she could take out anyone. And if she couldn't take out Harper? There was no point in taking out anyone else.

Aubrey saw that Harper was distracted, and so she did not lose any more time instead she tightened her grip onto her axes and let her body drop, the momentum of her run sliding her into Harper's legs, and also winding Aubrey in the meantime, she should have done that better. But oh well. Harper wasted no time in getting up, as did Aubrey, and they circled each other like wild cats prowling out in the open Sahara. Aubrey grinned, and Harper seemed to be looking at her with some sort of irritancy yet approval at the same time. Although Aubrey usually looked to Caspian for approval, he had disappeared, and his replacement of a brother had also not made an appearance today. Harper was a strong independent woman, and Aubrey did want to be like her when she grew up, so that approval in her eyes, real or not, was something that boosted Aubrey's heart quite a lot. She let out a yell as she raced to Harper, axes swinging at the instructors arms, Harper dodged quite easily, and Aubrey felt a solid kick to her leg, causing them to buckle. She swore audibly, but quickly used her buckling to roll and dodge the next move that Harper made. She got back to her feet in seconds, and rushed towards the instructor again.

Interacting with: Harper Baratheon

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

Chris didn't know what to do. Blair mentioned telling an instructor, and he nodded. He agreed. He looked around, Randi had run off, Poppy looked like she was doing the same, Bella was paler than a Ghost and Chris knew Blair was about the same. He didn't want her to run away, so he held her tightly, as she intertwined her fingers with his he firmly closed her hand in his, not wanting her to be removed from him. They began to walk towards the training room and CHris looked at Bella, she seemed to be unable to move, so he waved at her, motioning that she should follow them. She seemed taken aback by that, but soon followed along behind them, silent and almost non-existent. Chris just focused on Blair. He didn't want her to be hurt. So he held her gently against him as they continued walking towards the training room. As they neared it, Blair pulled him to one side, looking up at him and asking him to stay with her, no matter what. Chris nodded. "Always, to the best of my ability." He said, sounding romantic, but meaning it as genuinely as he could. He bent down, kissing her softly on the forehead as they walked into the training room, barely making it in before Harper starting barking out orders. A free-for-all? He wasn't sure if that was better or worse than usual... After seeing Ben's body, he was glad that neither he or Blair were going to have to go through a fear simulation. He had no idea how those worked, but he could imagine that Ben turning up in them would be something out of a horror story, and he didn't want that upon himself, or Blair.

He saw a space around the edge and gently brought Blair beside him as they squeezed in between some initiates. He had no intention of leaving Blair, or hurting her, they would fight together, and hopefully they would go down together, ifat all. If it came down to them being last, he wasn't sure how that would go... Would he sacrifice being first for the sake of his girlfriend? Part of him said yes, part of him said no. What was more important? He supposed that he would just have to wait and see. "Blair.." He whispered down towards her, bringing his head down to hers so that he could whisper. "Don't run to the middle, that's just a trap. Let's stay near the edges, grab some of the smaller weapons." Blair seemed to hear him, but made no move to tell him whether she agreed or not. She was probably in shock, and he wished they could have talked to Charlie or Harper before this started, asked if it could be delayed for those who had just seen a dead body. It wasn't long before Harper bbegan to sound like she was going to let them all get started, then she added that the instructors would also be playing. Great... He should have chosen somewhere not as close to Harper, as they were nearer to her than he would have liked. Chris set his feet firmly on the ground and let go of Blair's hand. Not because he wanted to lose her, but because he wanted to protect her.

GO

Chris reacted quickly, and quite aggressively. He stuck his foot out, causing the person beside him to trip, with his hand he brought it back, slamming it into the back of the person's head, watching as they face planted on the ground, out cold. One down. He didn't know who that was, he had just reacted. He saw that Blair was pale beside him, not moving. He gently put an arm on her shoulder. "Sweetheart... Set your mind on this for now... We can dwell on stuff later." He knew that was likely unkind, but it was honest. She needed to be focused now. He grinded his teeth together as he looked for some kind of weapon to give to Blair. He noticed that there were some brass knuckles nearby, something perfect for him, and some knives, which Blair would likely be able to use well. "I'll be back. Don't die." He said, pointing towards the weapons that were only a few feet away. He ran towards them, and easily scooped them up, turning around to run back to Blair he let out an "OOF" as a large hammer sent him flying to his butt. He felt his head go dizzy for a second, and growled angrily, his anger rising as he was now further away from Blair than he wanted to be. "Get out of my way." He said to the person in front of him. Jackson simply smirked at him, easily wielding a war-hammer almost twice his size, Jackson was definitely on the shorter side, but he had always had a knack for wielding heavy weapons. Chris sighed, and slipped the brass knuckles onto his hands. "Fine." He said, have it your way . Chris still held the knives for Blair in one hand, but in the other he had the brass knuckles firmly on. He rushed towards Jackson, as Jackson swung the hammer at him, Chris angrily put his arm up, catching the heavier part of the weapon, throwing Jackson off and causing his face to go from a smile to an immediate frown, then feared look. Chris grinned and pulled the hammer back, dragging Jackson towards him, Chris aimed and sunk the knives in his left hand deep into Jackson's belly. Feeling as he squirmed then shivered and fell limp. Throwing the hammer aside, not wanting such a big weapon that could likely accidentally hit Blair, he ran back towards her, hoping she had managed by herself.

Interacting with: Blair WanderLust.

 

[paralyzed]

Night Scott | Abnegation-born, Dauntless initiate.


Interactions: Ghost Aviator , Open


Night caught the water bottle from Aubrey and chugged it down. It probably wasn’t a good idea to drink so much before a dauntless activity, being that it would most likely be frightening one way or another. He looked over at the pair of initiates he had arrived with. They seemed distracted by the medic but she seemed like her normal self to Night. The next thing he knew, they were talking with Harper who soon announced the beginning of training. A free-for-all, something that would actually test the skills of the initiates. Night knew he had what it took to win, but so did everyone else. The winner was going to be whoever wanted it the most. They all went through the same training, all had pretty much the same experience. Besides any extra training that had obviously occurred for some of the Dauntless born. At least they weren’t that much more experienced than himself. He listened intently as Harper explained the ways of the free-for-all. The weapons were thankfully holograms, otherwise, Charlie would’ve had a lot of work to do. But they still felt real and that’s what made Night wish he hadn’t drunk a whole bottle of water. He knew he feared getting poked by a syringe, so being stabbed was unimaginable. Hopefully, if he had to ‘die’ it would be from blunt force trauma to the head or anything remotely different from a sharp weapon he feared would kill him before it touched his skin. Anyways, it was time to get into position. The game, if one could call it that, was about to begin.
Night stood in his spot, glanced at the initiates to his left and right, and then to the weapons in the center. All of them sheened as Night searched them for a weapon that would fit him. A single sword laid amongst them but being one of its kind, the sword would be a fan favorite. He would have to go for something more generic to have first dibs. He laid his eyes on a spear, he had never used such a weapon before but how hard could it be. He expected it to begin anytime now but first Harper had a surprise in store for them. The instructors would also be competing? This was going to be more of a challenge than Night expected. Harper announced the start, a distracted Night lost only a second of a head start but that could be fatal.

He ran forward, with no clear path until his eyes came upon the spear he had decided to use. It was quite far away and someone else might decide to take it so he searched the ground directly ahead of him for a weapon. Knife here, knife there. The only weapons that were nearby, he hesitated before picking one up and gripping it hard. It surprised him how much he feared the weapon he held. It was a small thing, less than a foot in length. But the way it gleamed like menacing teeth infused fear into his veins. It was an irrational fear. There was no reason to fear the weapon, he was in control and he held its power. And yet his body shuddered with the thought of falling as he ran and sticking himself. Even if all went well, would he really want to use this terrifying weapon on another person? Then again this was fake, even if it didn’t feel that way. The spear was only a couple of yards away now but he got distracted by a new prospect. Even closer in distance was the instructor known as Ghost. Night knew that the instructors were more experienced and therefore more likely to win in a dual. That was unless he acted first. He looked at the knife gripped in his hand and imagined attacking someone, an instructor at that, with it. Night ran toward him, knife in hand, and prepared to slash. His eyes were set on the target most vulnerable to everyone. He swung the knife certain that he would hit his neck but there was no impact. Ghost had dodged and landed on the ground but to Night’s astonishment, he was on his feet sooner than expected. The move he had done, scared Night. If he was capable of that then how many ways could he kill him. “Uh, shit.” Night said scorning himself for messing with an instructor. He got into an attack position waiting for Ghost to react. Ghost rushed at him, only to zoom right past Night who quickly turned to defend an attack from behind but it never came. Ghost ran off as if he was on a mission. Night shook his head, disappointed that he wouldn’t get to have a chance at overcoming a more experienced assailant but also glad that he wasn’t unconscious. Night jogged over to the spear, checking behind himself every once in a while. He picked it up and spun it. He checked his surroundings for anyone nearby but couldn’t find anyone. Heading away from the center where a couple bodies lay now, he started looking for someone to take out.

 

[Aviator]

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

Ghost felt like a predator, waiting to step out of the shadows and make his face known. He prowled the edges of the room, sticking close to the perimeter as to limit his chances of being surrounded by numerous opponents at once, and strategized how best to approach Harper Day. However, it seemed like that would have to wait, he thought as he watched Aubrey Stark all but throw herself onto the tall instructor. Ghost scoffed lightly. He made it a general rule to always keep his mind open to the possibilities, but did Aubrey really think that she stood a snowball’s chance in hell against one such as Harper? Aubrey was so… impetuous, easily excitable, undisciplined to the extreme, and clumsy like a mastiff puppy that was still adjusting to its enormous size. And as much as Ghost hated to acknowledge it, Harper was quite formidable indeed, a perfect blend of warrior prowess and tactical strategy. But he wouldn’t have been itching for a duel with her, if that weren’t the case.
As he stood watching their display, inky-black ninjato in hand, there came a soft scuff of shoes behind him but not yet immediately atop him. From the light step, Ghost knew that it was a girl of unsubstantial size before even turning around. Some ten feet away stood Charlotte Stark, with her feet planted determinedly as she faced him, bo staff in hand, brow furrowed with cold resolve. Her stance made her intent blazingly clear. This is unexpected, Ghost thought, cocking one eyebrow as he looked her over to make sure that he wasn’t misreading her unasked request; he had figured that she would sit out of the free-for-all altogether. But he didn’t vocalize his surprise, figuring that shocking him with her sudden appearance had been her design, or at least part of it. After all, Charlie did seem like she was waiting for him to say something. With a small sigh, Ghost looked away, gazing upon the riveting ferocity of Aubrey and Harper’s duel. It was amazing, how much you could learn from a potential opponent just by studying them in battle, without even having to engage them for yourself. Just from observing Harper, Ghost deduced that she was the type to attack when threatened, rather than shrink away and prepare a defense. Much like Ghost himself.
Finally, when Charlie’s impatience stirred the air, growing palpable, he said, “Look at these poor fools, lying on the ground unconscious with likely their entire life savings on their persons.” Ghost considered himself by no means an extrovert, yet he was aware that whenever he and Charlie were alone he did about eighty percent of the talking. Strange, how that worked. “If we were to abandon the idea of a competition and instead go looting, how much do you think we could net between the two of us? Personally, I bet that there would be enough for me to take you out to dinner anywhere you wanted for a whole week, and we wouldn’t have to worry about skipping dessert to stay within our budget. What do you say?” A thief always knew where passerby kept their money. Sometimes, two years after he had put that lifestyle behind him, Ghost still found himself scanning a crowd for the telltale bulge of wallets in back pockets, or debating whether the strings of a woman’s purse were long enough to cut without arousing suspicion.
Charlie didn’t immediately respond, as if unable to gauge whether or not Ghost was serious. For the first time, he tore his gaze away from Aubrey and Harper’s distant struggle and focused on his… companion? Friend? Rival? Or—dare he think it—lover? The perpetual uncertainty he felt in Charlie’s presence unnerved him, but at the same time it was exactly what made her so tantalizing. Never in his life had Ghost been so unsure of where he stood with another human being. Before, anyone who had been neither a stranger nor an acquaintance was an enemy, but while such a label would explain the occasional blood-boiling tension between Charlie and him, their alien moments of affection escaped it. But then, Charlie had glimpsed enough of Ghost’s hidden persona that there was no denying how easily she could become an enemy, in adverse circumstances.
Charlie’s lackluster response led Ghost to believe that she was not a fan of his proposed heist, if a plan so crude and spontaneous could even be called that. “So steadfast in your morals,” he mused into the lull in conversation. “It’s admirable, if sometimes tedious and self-righteous. Yet it’s one of the things I like most about you, if I’m to speak truthfully.” When he knew a fight was on the horizon—be it a mental or physical one—Ghost always tried to parley with his opponent first, see what he could glean about their motives or thinking patterns from a short conversation. But Charlie’s usual reticence was making that difficult, and he couldn’t tell whether or not she was doing it on purpose. Hence why he had tried baiting her with the backhanded compliment.
For some unexplainable reason, their argument about Leah and Caspian felt so much more distant than to have occurred only a half hour ago. All he saw was the girl who bit her lip when she spoke of her father, the girl who always stopped to sniff the flowers they passed during walks through the park, the girl who kindled a fire low in Ghost’s belly when she kissed him and awakened his desire for things that he hadn’t known were in his capacity to desire. A terribly irrational thought to embrace Charlie and lay her down on the mat and prove to her that he was nothing like Caspian seized Ghost right then and there, onlookers be damned, and she would moan his name and surge against him and beg him to stop because it wasn’t proper but not actually mean it and he would silence her by covering her mouth with his own. He simultaneously resisted the way that his pulse accelerated and desperately wanted to surrender to it. Charlie was his, and only his…
Clearly Charlie didn’t reciprocate Ghost’s lewd fantasy. Instead of drawing her into conversation, his comment on her tedious and self-righteous nature seemed to only remind Charlie of why she had approached him in the first place: for bloodshed. Gritting her teeth, she hefted her staff, one end pointing a threat at Ghost. His desire evaporated like mist in sunlight, replaced with something sharp and flat. “I understand that your pride has been wounded, but asking me to destroy you in front of a watching crowd is hardly a cure.” His heavy brows dipped into one of his characteristic scowls, and his voice was severe. “Now back off before you get hurt,” he hissed, patience rapidly draining. Did Charlie seriously think that she could take him in a fight? Ghost knew he was too sedentary for his own good and couldn’t—physically—compete with most Dauntless-born, but Charlie was as much a misfit among their faction as he. Ghost had learned to fight in dark alleys and on cold-blooded streets, where a mistake often ended in a gruesome death at the end of an enemy gangster’s knife.
Amid his disbelief, Ghost felt notes of anger and outright panic. He was acutely aware that being ambushed by Charlie was not part of his plan to confront Harper, which he had committed to the moment that he’d scavenged the only sword on the battlefield from Isabella. There was no turning back now, and Ghost really did not want Harper coming after him while he was already ensnared in combat with another. He would be a sitting duck, then. Ghost fumed internally. This was just like Charlie, consciously or not, to blow his carefully premeditated plans to hell. First she had tried to forbid him from seeing Leah, and now this? How dare she pretend to care about Ghost and then stand between him and his goals? Fury spread like ice through his veins. He had endured the horrors of Baneberry alone, even when the need for companionship had been agonizing, and he would not allow some lovesick girl to put a leash on him now. Not when he had come so far, and had so much farther yet to go.
In that moment, Ghost’s mind flashed to his conversation with Harper some ten minutes ago, when he had wondered whether he would have taken Malia Wolfharde’s offer to join the leadership panel if given a redo, and he knew his answer: He would make the same choice all over again, because he would rather die than become someone’s puppet. “Think this through, Charlotte. Because if I must, I will obliterate you without remorse or mercy,” he growled when Charlie still showed no signs of backing down. Ghost really didn’t want to fight Charlie, but if she forced his hand, then he would not hold back. Rather, he would have to teach her the consequences of underestimating him. Charlie looked at him, and rage rose from her shoulders like steam, polluting the air around them. Ghost looked back and felt only cold. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the ninjato.
Charlie unleashed a war cry and pelted toward him, staff raised overhead. So your true colors reveal themselves at last, Ghost thought. Is this really how you think of me? He wanted to kick himself for not trusting his intuition that no one could be as flawlessly kind as Charlie without hiding something exceedingly vile, but that would have to wait. Charlie had lied to him, and liars needed to be punished. Ghost stood his ground as Charlie dove toward him, his mind turning information over. Charlie had previously told him that she had only passed initiation by the skin of her teeth, no thanks to her combative shortcomings. By that logic, Ghost knew that she wouldn’t be a very formidable opponent, so the challenge wasn’t a matter of beating Charlie; it was a matter of beating her quickly, before Harper came to win Ghost's sword. All throughout his and Charlie’s conversation, he had noticed how her muscles pinched together beneath her shift as she brandished the staff. And that staff wasn’t a weapon that had been tailored specifically to Charlie’s strengths. Rather, it was just something that she had picked up as the opportunity presented itself. If Ghost had to bet, that staff was a tad too heavy for her. Repeatedly swinging it would tire her out and leave an opening for him to retaliate.
Ghost leapt out of the way just in time. Charlie’s weapon might have been a hologram, but he still felt a cool breeze as it parted the air where he had been standing a heartbeat ago. Recovering his balance, Ghost bent his knees slightly, lowering his center of gravity, and posed with only his sword arm facing Charlie, looking at her over his left shoulder as to present a smaller target. It was the stance that he had seen Harper adopt when she practiced in the training arena with her sword after hours, or a rough imitation of her stance. Although Ghost was superbly grateful for having had the opportunity to acquaint himself with a sword yesterday during his spar with Randi, his expertise was with guns and knives. His experience wielding a sword was limited, but Ghost tried to turn a liability into an advantage whenever possible. As such, he resolved to think of the ninjato as a knife with an extended range, allowing him to strike his opponent from a superior distance.
Not yet, Ghost thought, ignoring the temptation to answer Charlie’s assault with one of his own. Better to let her wear herself down first; then she’d be more vulnerable to attack. She would do all the work toward her defeat, and he would take the glory. Charlie stumbled a step from the force of her attack, but her recovery was mostly swift. She wasn’t short, but neither was she tall, and the taller someone was, the slower they would be to change directions. Whirling, Charlie swiped with her staff again, and Ghost noticed how her left shoulder dealt the brunt of the blow. He knew she too was left-handed, but could there be another explanation? Had she perhaps been wounded prior to engaging him? It was a possibility, considering that she likely had to have ventured into the weapons cache to retrieve her staff, which was an obvious death trap. But because hologram weapons drew no blood or other signs of physical damage, he couldn’t be certain.
This time Ghost raised his blade and slapped Charlie’s strike aside, using his superior height and strength to bear down and give her a small shove backward. Charlie flailed for balance, feet rapidly scrambling for purchase against the sleek surface of the mat. Ghost pounced. He gathered his weight in his back leg and pushed himself off it, using the burst of momentum to fly across the floor and sink into a fencing lunge so deep that it was very nearly a split, his front ankle well past the knee. Ghost covered the distance between Charlie and himself in an eyeblink, and she didn’t stand a chance. Trusting his gut feeling, he targeted the right shoulder that Charlie seemed to have been babying. He was rewarded with a rattling gasp of pain, and Ghost watched as Charlie’s pupils dilated with it.
Ghost’s retraction of such a monstrous lunge was considerably less graceful than his delivery of it, but Charlie was incapacitated for the moment, giving him all the time he needed to resume his stance. Committing to such an attack had been a risk but apparently one that had paid dividends. It appeared as though his hunch about Charlie having a wounded shoulder had been correct after all, because the rictus of pain that transformed her face wouldn’t have resulted from an ordinary strike to the shoulder.
The rest of the fight was quick but brutal. A storm raged inside Ghost, as if his blood had been sucked away and replaced with hurricane winds. It made his fingertips tingle with energy. Unlike its cousin the katana, the ninjato had a straight blade, allowing for thrusts and stabbing as well as slashing, and Ghost mixed up his attacks with a combination of the two. Yet Charlie seemed determined to go on the offensive, which was a mistake; Ghost couldn’t pack the punch of most of the Dauntless-born, but if there was one thing he could do, it was dance away from blows with a cat burglar’s agility. Knowing the dangers of growing overconfident, he still took his fight with Charlie as deadly seriously as any and stayed vigilant, only reveling in her mounting frustration the slightest bit. It took great discipline, but he refrained from openly taunting her.
Ghost wore his opponent down with small cuts and nicks, not wanting to commit to any attacks that would leave him horribly exposed if they missed. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to slam Charlie with a hit that would shatter their relationship past the point of no return? Charlie was the victim of the abuse of multiple men, and despite her recent penchant for annoying Ghost to no end, he knew it would break him for Charlie to look at him with the same revulsion that she cast upon her father and Caspian. At one point, when Charlie swung at him—now almost exclusively wielding her staff with her left hand—he darted forward, sidestepping inside her guard, and pounded her in the back with the butt of his sword. Charlie toppled and fell onto her face with a short squeal of surprise mixed with pain. Her staff flew out of her hands and rolled across the mat several feet.
Rising from his careful stance, Ghost took a deep breath and walked around Charlie’s prone form so that his boots planted themselves in front of her face. “This fight,” he declared in a voice that brooked no argument, “is over. Stay down if you know what’s good for you.” Some residual anger seeped into Ghost’s tone; he hadn’t forgotten about his impending duel with Harper, and how Charlie’s insistence on prolonging their fight was wearing down Ghost’s endurance before the main event even began.
But Charlie seemed to have a different opinion, because at that moment she flung herself to the side with a mighty effort, grabbed her staff, and swung it in a powerful arc parallel with the floor, all before crashing onto her uninjured shoulder. Ghost was so hyped up on adrenaline that he barely felt when the first hit connected with his ankle, precisely at the knot that marked the end of his fibula. But he certainly felt the second hit, delivered when Charlie levered herself onto one knee and whipped her staff around so that it crunched against his ribs. Ghost knew that the pain was all in his head—the weapons were nothing more than holograms—but he could have sworn he heard a devastating crack! as a line of fire burned up the left side of his torso. Tears fragmented the world into a million jagged bits as the floor rushed up to meet him.
He and Charlie—both thoroughly exhausted and wounded—were slow to climb to their feet, leaning on their weapons for support. Ghost’s attempts not to whimper in pain were met with mixed success. What Charlie had just pulled off would have been an impressive combo, if Ghost felt inclined to compliment her. Instead, it took all his willpower not to curse her out, so he settled for a strained “You stubborn fool.” He forced himself to stand upright and drop the hand that had been cradling his ribs. Pain roared so loudly in his ears that it consumed his world, drowning out the cacophony of screaming and dying initiates, of metal clanging against metal, against wood, and against flesh. Ghost felt so slow and weak that he couldn’t even raise his ninjato in time as Charlie came charging at him empty-handed, and— Wait, where had her staff gone? Why would she cast it aside at a time like this, when she had the chance to deal him a deathblow? Probably just a trick of the flickering lights…
Charlie’s voice pitched into a high, shrill note as she barreled into Ghost, tackling him around the waist. The impact deadened his sword arm and the ninjato slipped from numb fingers to click against the floor. He and Charlie were briefly tossed through the air together like a pair of dice until they fetched up against the mat, the breath funneling out of Ghost’s lungs as his back struck first. The world was swimming, and he felt more than saw Charlie’s limbs tangled up with his own, a stray tendril of her hair tickling his nose, her weight crushing down on his chest and flattening him against the floor. A whirlwind of emotions swept up Ghost all at once: annoyance, confusion, mortification, fury, and sheer terror. He and Charlie were too close for weapons to do them any good, if they’d even had any. Was Charlie’s plan to pummel Ghost into oblivion with her bare hands, or sit on his chest until he suffocated, or was she finally reciprocating his amorous feelings from minutes ago and had suddenly chosen to act on them? Whatever her intent, it snapped him out of his daze. “What the hell is your problem?” he choked, voice thin as a wisp of cigarette smoke. Ghost tried to load as much indignation into his glare as possible to obscure the more vulnerable emotions.
Charlie’s reply came as a wet, unintelligible gurgle, muffled against Ghost’s coat because she didn’t lift her head. Ghost felt a prickle of fear, though he didn’t understand why. He tried to squirm free of Charlie and slowly realized that he was having such difficulty because she was dead weight atop his chest, in the most literal sense of the term. But… how? It wasn’t like she had skewered herself on Ghost’s sword, which still lay on the floor an arm’s length away. His mind spun with questions, and that was when he found Charlie’s unmoving body and himself eclipsed in shadow. Understanding hit him like a sucker punch… or rather, he supposed it had really hit Charlie. Fatally. By the time Ghost finally wriggled out from under his slain adversary, Charlie was breathing in the slow and heavy cadence of unconsciousness and her eyes were closed, the lashes splaying long spokes of shadow across her cheeks. Ignoring the pain, he swiftly rolled to the side and scooped up his fallen ninjato before Charlie’s killer descended on it. Then Ghost shoved to his feet and turned to face Harper Day, at last.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Empowered

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Ghost, Harper, Aubrey

Ghost was a punk; he was cunning and unpredictable and sometimes outright infuriating, and Randi loved it. Running into him was like some weird sort of blessing that the gods of chaos granted the petite blonde in one of her greatest moments of need. What she was this morning would haunt her for the rest of her life as would the knowledge that she might have been able to save the young man if fate were kind. But with Ghost around it forced her mind to focus on something different, events that occurred the night before. Getting Ghost to talk was the perfect distraction for her and she would take it without a second thought if it meant pushing past Ben’s fate, or at least shove it down somewhere dark and deep within her where all the bad things go.

The explanation Ghost left her with in responce to her questions were almost believable but not fully there. Randi was used to seeing people dance around the truth by using a mix of deception and honesty to lay down a thick fog of confusing half-truths. People did it all the time, though none so far with as much grace as Ghost. It was both impressive and slightly wounding to see since she had to admire the intricacy of his work with his words but hated the idea that he would lie to her. We all have our secrets though. She reminded herself at the time before he managed to distract her with a race.

The race had been entertaining and once again Ghost’s jerk meter was all over the place with the stunt, he pulled during the count down. Yes, Ghost had a jerk meter. It was something Randi had started in her mind not long after the two of them met. With each of his actions the meter would change from Total Jerk to Not Really A Jerk, it was like a fun little game for her to play as they spent more time with one another. Right now, as the two caught their breath before joining the other initiates and instructors Randi had determined that Ghost was sitting at at least 72% of being a jerk, especially after claiming that his cheap shot wasn’t cheating. The wink he gave as he took his leave bumping him up to a fond 73% jerk-ness but also left a smirk on Randi’s face as she watched him go. Whether people would expect it or not the young blonde was certainly well into considering the young man a friend, no matter how he felt on the matter.

Listening to Harper’s instructions for the day’s activity a spark ignited within Randi at the idea of a fight. A fight was just what she needed right now. Even if she didn’t win it was something she could at least enjoy. Fighting was simple, it was primal, it was fun. Or at least that is what it had always been to the young platinum-haired beauty who was known for getting into far too many scraps that weren’t her own even for a member of Dauntless. Shouldn’t do a staff again. She reminded herself knowing that she didn’t want to flaunt her skill with a staff too greatly when she could try and keep it as an ace in the hole later down the line. Besides, there were plenty of other weapons she was well trained with and she had her eyes on a specific set of twin daggers she could have fun with.

Her focus was on the weapon pile and those around her. She was like a predator in her element when it came to stuff like this. There were probably countless members of Dauntless who would agree after the number of random fights she would throw herself into the middle of just for the heck of it. It helped her to feel alive.

GO!

That was all the young woman needed to hear before she went sprinting towards the center of the room and slid past the pile of weapons. As her body glided across the floor in a well-planned slide, she plucked the daggers from the pile and bolted. Her focus then shifted to the fights going on around her and she jumped, ready to spring into action but restraining herself at the last second when Ghost’s voice sounded behind her. The young man had a look in his eyes that reminded her of a fox as he offered her a deal. It was an interesting proposition and sounded like it had real potential to create some chaotic fun. “Sure, but I do expect to be paid in full.” She purred and whirled her dagger with a succubus smile as they went their separate ways. She spotted Harper not too far away from her and blazed swiftly across the battlefield throwing a few random stabs, punches, kicks, and so on as she went. It was obvious to anyone watching that Randi was there not to win, but to have fun. It was how she planned to distract herself from the pains he buried within her after the events of the morning.

Watching Aubrey engage in combat with Harper was like watching two lionesses clash in a flurry of claws and fangs. Most would probably give them their space but then again Randi wasn’t like most others. With a fiery smile painted upon her lips Randi dove into the battle between the two with her daggers drawn. “Room for one more?” She taunted as she struck out quickly in order to assert her intentions to truly join this brawl.

Aviator Nerdy. Baratheon

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Determined

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Dante, Finn

They had agreed to talk about it later but it didn’t even seem like a discussion that should be had. Fable’s mind was still whirling around Dante’s proposal as they stood side by side listening to the instructions about the day's events. She was half listening and half focused on the thoughts spiraling around in her mind. How could he think that could be the answer for us? She gawked inwardly as she felt the thoughts, the points he made, the feelings she had, her fears, her morals, all clashing like a raging storm within her. Yes, turning Blair in might help them to establish themselves within the faction, but at what cost. A young woman, someone they knew, would be dead or harmed by their actions. That isn’t how she would make her way in the faction she hoped to one day call home. She would prove she was there for a reason, that she deserved to be there, and she would show Dante along with the rest of them that she didn’t need to scheme her way in.

Tuning back in fully Fable caught the gist of what they would be expected to do today. It was a fight, a free for all, a time when every person stood alone to help themselves and no one else. This sort of activity was greatly frowned upon by her birth faction. Her mother and father would be enraged beyond belief at the very mention of Fable taking part in anything like this. That thought alone was enough to send determination roaring like fire through her veins.

What would likely be the hardest part would be fighting Dante. It was something she had to be ready to do, she had to convince herself that being selfish would keep her alive, if it came down to it, she would need to take him out in this event in order to help herself. Is that any different than what he was suggesting? A voice whispered inside her mind. Yes. It was. It had to be. This wasn’t real, Dante and the others wouldn’t truly die, but Blair would if she followed Dante’s plan.

Looking at her friend she did her best to try to picture him as the enemy. It was hard but the conversation this morning and the fact that she doubted either of their minds had changed made it a little bit easier. He was still her friend and in real life, she would protect him, in simulation however that might not be the case.

“We should probably split up.” She whispered to him. She would rather not have to take him out herself if either of them even made it that far. “And if it comes down to it don’t think I’ll go easy on you.” She added, her mismatched eyes looking up at him with a full expression of honesty shining through them. He was her best friend, her only ally, but this was a time for them to stand alone and prove their worth.

Her heartbeat became ever more noticeable as blood roared within her ears. Fable looked around at the faces of those closest to her and then at the weapons pile before her. She wasn’t sure what she would get but she hoped it would be something that would feel right and be a good match for her in the end.

GO!

The words cut through the air and in an instant the silence that had filled the void was shattered as dozens of feet hit the ground running. Fable was among the bodies pushing towards the middle and blindly she reached out and wrapped her hands around the first thing she could grip. It was heavy but she found she could handle that as she pulled the double-sided ax from the pile and kept running. Shouldering a few initiates out of her way she did her best to run for cover and came to a halt as she rounded a corner and found herself face to face with Finn. Instantly her grip on the ax tightened and she paused for just a moment to evaluate her situation before shooting forward in a burst of strength as she lashed out with the great ax like a daunting shield maiden of old.

jrink Baratheon

code by Stardust Galaxy

Thorn

Mood: Tired

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Jax

It was nice getting to meet someone new like Jax. The young man seemed friendly and that was enough to earn him a warm and welcoming smile from Thorn as they were introduced. With Charlie parting ways from them, Thorn took the opportunity to roll with making perhaps a new friend. “Jax is a cool name!” He complimented with a smile that stung from the crack in his lip, but he refused to show the pain.

Listening to the transfer initiate talk about how the girls were likely to come out on top earned a nod from the young pacifist. “Yeah, most people grow up brawling here, girls and boys alike.” He explained with a laugh. “The girls tend to have more brains than the guys do though.” He added with a sweet chuckle as he shook his head and thought about how two boys who used to beat him up would also knock their heads together repeatedly to prove who was the strongest and both end up with concussions. It was something he would never forget, and it made him glad that he did not share the same mindset as those two young men. Of course, not all the guys in Dauntless were like that. Many were as smart as they were strong and deserved to be admired for such skill.

“I was born in Dauntless.” He replied in answer to Jax’s question as the young man’s voice pulled him from the memories. “What faction did you come from?” He asked not remembering which factions’ clothes Jax had been wearing their first day. Unfortunately, the answer to his question would have to wait for just as the question was asked, they reached their destination. Most of the other initiates were already there and others, like Jax and himself, were just showing up. Standing among the crowd Thorn ignored some whispers and looks that were clearly directed his way as he decided to focus instead on the instructors. He knew he looked beat up but he didn’t need to make a scene over it and would have preferred that others didn’t as well. He was used to the abuse from his family as well as those who viewed him as not brave enough to be a true Dauntless and to be quite honest, he didn’t care.

Listening to Harper explain what they would be doing today left Thorn with a feeling of acceptance. The free for all was never going to go in his favor and he knew it as well as accepted it. He was already beaten up and hurting from his run-in with his father and uncle the night before. That combined with his desire to avoid fighting meant that he was as good as gone the moment the game began. Many people didn’t understand his choices or his methods and didn’t care that Thorn viewed fighting the way he did. In his mind violence wasn’t bravery, it was fear, and finding peace with oneself and others was the bravest thing a person could do.

The instant Harper shouted for the fight to begin Thorn took a step back rather than rush forward like the others. He would find somewhere to hide and wait until someone found him, but he did not have it in him today to even attempt combat, not that he would. Whoever got to him first would simply get a free kill, he would not fight or resist, he might dodge to make it interesting but he knew there would be no chance of him getting out of this alive.

Wolfiee

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[WanderLust.]

Maverick Maddox // 18 // Dauntless Born // Instructor
Interacting With: Poppy Wolfiee

Maverick slunk through the shadows, trained feet refusing to break the silence as he began heading towards the meeting place that Poppy had mentioned. He knew that if she found out he was following her that she would never forgive him. In the mind of a dauntless girl, the would mean he saw her as weak, when he saw Poppy as anything but weak. On the contrary, Maverick was quite certain that Poppy was more than capable of handling herself, even if the situation did turn violent. However, Maverick felt oddly responsible for Poppy now. He was not only her instructor, but a life long friend. Surely he owed her some sort of loyalty, had some sort of duty to protect her if he knew she was in danger. It was for that reason that Maverick stayed hidden as he made his way through the dauntless complex, keeping tight against walls and avoiding any direct light. When he heard the tenor of voices walking past he instinctively yanked up his dark hood, concealing the upper half of his face. He was getting close now, and he was running late. What if Poppy was already there? What if things had already turned sour? What if she was hurt?

Maverick's stomach churned as he neared the area that Poppy's father had specified in the note, supposedly. He wasn't sure if he even believed the note was truly from her father. But clear as day, he could hear the sounds of Poppy struggling against someone. He would've recognized her voice anywhere, heard it even if he wasn't listening for it. His pace quickened as he neared the corner, just about to round it he paused, barely catching himself before he stumbled into view. His mind was torn, should he stay hidden and let Poppy handle this herself? Should he swoop in now and pull her attacker off of her before he had the chance to do any harm? It seemed Maverick's mind was made up for him as his feet began to move before he could even form a plan. The tall, dark haired boy stood watching as Poppy got back up to her feet, his chest rising and falling with angry breaths as his grey eyes seared into those of Poppy's father. So the poor bastard had actually dared to show up. Maverick was vaguely aware of a taunting voice, daring him to come out from the shadows as if he hadn't already exposed himself. Maverick had never been good at controlling his anger, which was why it barely surprised him when his body charged forward, a force to be reckoned with.

Maverick knew if he looked at Poppy now he would lose all sense of control. He had to keep his mind clear if he wanted to protect her, and so when he stormed forward, he purposely tried not to look at her. The dark haired male slammed out his large hand, wrapping it around the neck of Poppy's attacker before throwing him to the ground. Poppy's father hit the cement ground, his body making a sickening thud as he grunted out in pain. Maverick was fuming, "You're not going to touch her again. Do you understand me?" His voice was low and eerily calm, although he still hadn't removed his hand from around his opponent's neck. In fact, Maverick's grip was slowly tightening. The lost son truly living up to the Maddox name. His grey eyes were storms of rage as he glared at the man who had dared raise a hand to Poppy, he would pay for that. "Do you understand me?" He repeated again before the man began to choke and struggle to nod. He continued to gasp and yet Maverick could not bring himself to pull his hand away. This man didn't deserve to draw another breath after what he had done to his own daughter, presumable to his own wife. He became vaguely aware that someone was yelling, but his ears were ringing so loud that he couldn't comprehend what they were saying. Finally he gathered as much will power as he could and released his grasp, watching with content as Poppy's father struggled to regain his breath.

Almost immediately afterwards, Maverick turned his attention back towards Poppy, still prepared to throw another punch should her father get any more ideas. He couldn't decipher her expression at first. Was she scared? Angry? Upset? His eyes searched hers as he struggled to find words, his hand gently raising up to caress her face, inspecting her cuts and bruises. "Are you okay?" He finally said gently, trying to soften his voice. He didn't regret what he had done, but he didn't like that Poppy had had to see it. He also wished that he had gotten there sooner, before her father was able to do this to her. "I"m sorry I followed you but I didn't trust him..." He shot another warning glance at her father who still lay on the ground. "Poppy talk to me..." he encouraged softly, holding her face gently in his hands as he inspected her like a nurse caring for a child.

Blair Avalon // 16 // Dauntless Born // Initiate // Divergent
Interacting With:

*COMING SHORTLY*

​

 

[pix-e]

Mercy Cartwright.

Mercy Edward Cartwright was destined to be Dauntless. He had no place in his home faction, Amity. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the largely amiable population. He was wild, loud, reckless, physical. He refused to keep the peace(and frequently paid the price for it). He was destined to be Dauntless. He had always known it and his aptitude test confirmed it. He wasn't like Bravery, Chance, Charity, or Service. He didn't fit in there. He was the first to leave. He was Dauntless now. He passed the first phase of initiation. He somehow survived the intro to fear sims of phase two. So, why, pray tell, was he being treated like he was still in Amity?

While is fellow initiates got to beat on each other and experience death in a simulated environment(for a second time for some), he had been tasked with a "special" job. Instead of having fun, learning, testing his fears and physical abilities, he was ordered to do the exact opposite. When he had entered the testing center, he was pulled aside and briefed of the day's plans. They were doing a special form of training in which everyone would be fighting in a free-for-all with hologram weapons that would simulate real pain— or their fists, which was actually real pain. The instructors would be taking part in this one, including the medic Charlie, so they needed someone on hand to help take care of anyone who got legitimately injured and to keep the playing field clear of bodies once people went out cold. He supposed his family was a little bit well-known amongst the Amity community, so perhaps the Cartwright name had leaked into the walls of other compounds— it was hard to miss a family of eight with a bunch of strange names. Especially when one family member was so notoriously a handful. Perhaps a mixture between the world relying on Amity nurses and word about him spending too much time in a care facility lead to this decision. But it was certainly not one he accepted joyously.

The way Mercy saw it was this: on the one hand, he was losing an opportunity to prove himself to his instructors and place himself amongst the top of the class. It was an opportunity he needed. To hear that he made the right choice by being here, that he deserved to be here, that he was good at something... Mercy needed that. But, on the other hand, this was an opportunity within itself. He could prove himself to be a good rule follower. This could be his way to combat whatever reputation that might have followed him here to the Dauntless faction and show that he's not unruly, he was just out of place. Maybe doing exactly as he was told would earn him slight head turns and mild respect. He could prove himself useful, even if it was him just playing medic while Charlie was preoccupied. So, instead of putting up a fight like every fiber of his being told him to, the boy bit his tongue and took the white pinnie jersey that signaled to the other initiates that he was, in fact, not participating.

As the room finally seemed to be full of most of the initiates necessary to begin, he begrudgingly made his way to the edge of the room to pull the pinnie on over his clothes. He had been dressed for training with an athletic shirt hidden away under his utility hoodie, ready to take the sweatshirt off as soon as he started moving. Now, there was no point in doing so, so he slapped the mesh top on over the jacket. Everyone seemed to gather around— waiting on Ghost to make his entrance, apparently— and he took the time to count heads. Maybe it was a numbers game and that's why he lost the opportunity to train. But, there seemed to be plenty of people, just a few who were inexplicably missing. Tch. He thought, turning his face away from the amassing teens. People have chosen to skip but I'M the one who's stuck playing nurse and kissing boo-boos better. Why are they letting Charlie participate and not an initiate?

At the last thought, guilt flooded his chest and color rose to his cheeks. You know, he shouldn't be so mean about that. Granted, she couldn't hear his thoughts, but it wasn't the nicest thing to think about someone so sweet. She was Dauntless too. Well. Actually Dauntless, not Dauntless-in-training. She deserved to get to have some fun, like the instructors did. And, well, it appeared Maverick was absent. His dark eyes braved the floor to find the medic with her dark waves and olive complexion. She was so pretty. And she seemed kind. He had to go off of assumptions. So far, he had been lucky enough to avoid the infirmary. His training injuries were never egregious enough to pay her a true visit. Their run ins were brief and sweet, as she usually had more patients to tend to. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. He should really let the subject go. He was medic for now. And he was going to be the best damn medic Dauntless had ever seen. Well. Best underqualified medic.

Ghost arrived and the game began, leaving Marcy to slide sadly down the wall into a sitting position until his services were needed. He scanned the initiates and the action, tugging mindlessly on a curl from his mullet-ish mop. He gazed upon some disapprovingly, like Thorn hiding immediately, and tapped his haphazardly taped-up canvas shoes on the floor. Eventually something had to happen. He just hoped he could move some of the bigger initiates like Chris out of the way without embarrassing himself.

petulant

testing center

outfit

http://xx

@/user tags here

nine lives

 

[Baratheon]

Finn Day

Finn breathed in shakily as he joined the others in darting for the middle, hair flying behind him. Had it gotten too long since the start of initiation? No, no time for that now. The boy had lost sight of Aubrey, which was for the best. He honestly didn't feel like fighting her again so soon. Instead, his hands managed to land on some nunchucks, which felt odd but cool in his hands. He spun them around and darted away from the weapons pile. He didn't want to get killed in the blood bath before showing off some skills first.

He rounded a corner and came face-to-face with Fable. His eyes widened as she attacked suddenly, and he raised his weapon to block her blade. Moving quickly, he twisted it around the handle and aimed to pull it out of her grasp. Whether or not that worked, Finn went in for a quick knee to the stomach and elbow to the back before rolling away. He reached out and grabbed his nunchucks again, out of breath from the sudden movement. He admired the girl for grabbing an axe; such a large weapon would be too much for him. He whirled about to see Fable was already back on her feet. He let out a yell and swung his weapon hastily towards her face.

He really should have grabbed something better, he knew. But this was unexpected and fast, and Fable's eyes proved his point. They were confused, but she reacted quickly, dodging and aiming a punch to his jaw. He moved, but the hit still grazed his skull and he stumbled backwards, tripping over the axe still on the ground. He hit the floor with an oof and shook his head to clear it. Get up, get up!

Sanctuaryforall1

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

Harper Day

The race to the weapons stash began. Harper found a smile tugging its way onto her face as she and the others in the fight barreled towards whatever weapon they had chosen for themselves. Many initiates probably would not have had time to find themselves a proper weapon. She spotted one boy holding a mace far too big for his hands, and another girl swinging a knife around haphazardly. What were these kids doing? Harper breathed out a sigh. They should have been taught to think on their feet a little faster. A weapon you couldn't use was more of a burden than none at all.

Her own eyes had been trained upon a sword higher up on the stack, harder to reach for anyone too small or slow. She wasn't someone to give herself a helping hand during situations like this, but she had made sure a blade such as that was included in the pile. Her speciality, her favorite, the sword when used became an extension of her arm. In general, Harper could be more of a brute than anything graceful. She preferred to barrel through, to let strength reign and to power over her opponents. She was big, strong, and deadly. The fancy acrobatics and agility could be left to her brother, not that she completely lacked it herself. However, her thoughts were interrupted as a large boy rammed into her, seemingly knocked over himself. She regained her footing quickly, but in that moment, the sword was gone. A flash of red hair was all she saw. Harper's eyes narrowed. Where was that person going? Her hand snatched a knife nearby, just wanting to have something, then took off after that flash of color.

She didn't get far, though, before a body came slamming into her legs. She fell, but recovered easily and brandished her knife at whoever it was. Wait- Aubrey? The younger girl had a look of fire in her eyes, which made Harper smile again. Oh, she was going for the big fish, huh? Expected from such a high-ranking initiate. Harper had known Aubrey for forever, and knew she had a thirst for blood. Which of them would taste the others' first?

Aubrey came at her with an obvious move of swinging her axes- cool choice, if heavy- and she stepped easily aside, kicking her as she came to make the girl fall. She swung her blade downwards, but Aubrey dodged and was soon back at her feet. Another rush. Harper felt the urge to correct her bold and easily perceptible form, but now was not the time. The axe blade swung close to her face and Harper lunged low, her knife connecting briefly to Aubrey's hip area. A dangerous move to go low, but Harper turned it into a roll and stood again. She whirled about and aimed another slash at where Aubrey's neck should have been, but the girl was gone. She was fast, for sure. Harper spun just in time to block an attack from the side, and aimed a quick blow down at Aubrey's head. Blocked. Uppercut. Blocked. Harper stepped aside and aimed a sweep kick, but Aubrey leaped over her leg and managed to graze the side of her shoulder with her own weapon. Ouch. The sting made it feel real, and Harper almost expected warm blood to come dripping out.

"You've gotten really good," Harper breathed out, stabbing quickly at Aubrey's heart. The girl stepped just out of reach, grabbing Harper's wrist and pulling her in. Harper used the momentum to give a quick, albeit weak, punch to the jaw. This wasn't all about weapons. Aubrey stumbled back, dazed, and Harper aimed another punch. Aubrey was able to block, but was obviously a little stunned. Her blade came crashing out of nowhere, though, a last-ditch effort, forcing Harper to take a step back again. Then, without warning, Randi came crashing in. It was a stupid move, to jump between a fight like this, even for someone as bold as the blonde. What was her intention, being here? Was everyone trying to take some glory from fighting an instructor?

Maybe she should have been flattered, but Harper instead merely doubled down on her attacks. She only had one blade, but it flashed like a light show in between the two girls, blocking and stabbing in a powerful way. It was good the two younger girls weren't exactly teaming up, occasionally sharing their own blows. Harper aimed a sweep kick at Randi, which the girl tripped on, but her blades came double-crashing down on Harper's leg. The burn made her gasp in pain, but the young woman rolled aside and leaped back to her feet. This was hard, but she was having fun. Even two teenagers were no match for her hard-earned Dauntless skill. Harper kicked Randi as the girl was still down, bowling her into Aubrey with a fluid movement. Her arm and leg stung, but they were prices to pay. It was good that the two initiates had even landed hits, to be honest.

Harper's gaze briefly locked onto Ghost's from the other side of the room. He had a prideful look in his eyes- why? Harper glanced down and noticed a very notable weapon in his hands. Her sword. She made a face, fire coursing through her veins. Was he egging her on? Trying to get a fight? She wasn't afraid to give him one. Her fight was not with these two girls right now, then.

Harper barely needed to look to block another attack from Aubrey from just within her line of vision, a blow to her arm that definitely would have chopped it off if it weren't for the fake blades. Harper grabbed the axe and yanked it towards the ground, despite Aubrey still having a grip on it. The girl was good, but at no level for an instructor just yet. The movement should cause Aubrey to stumble, but Harper wasn't about to waste time finishing her off. Instead, she would leave her to Randi, or vice-versa. Whatever. Her sights were now on her oldest and most sworn rival, grasping her prize in his hands.

Breathing heavily, Harper dodged her former opponents and darted towards where Ghost was now engaged in a brawl with Charlie. An interesting match, and one that Harper was surprised to see. Was Charlie really fighting him? With what combat ability? Harper was surprised the young man hadn't taken her out in mere moments. Anyways, he was distracted. Her time had come.

With a breath through her teeth for concentration, Harper was quick to aim a blow with her dagger right on his lower back, a move that normally would skew several major organs. Instead, she found a shape launching itself in front of her move; had she not been so focused on Ghost, she would have been able to recover, but instead, her blade hit dead-on this new target. Harper took a step back in surprise, knowing that the force she had behind the blow would leave a bruise for sure. To her surprise, it was Charlie!

The young woman fell on Ghost, gurgling until her body went limp. Ghost pushed her off, slowly getting to his feet, obviously as confused as Harper was. He seemed tired, already, and in pain. "Taking sacrifices now, huh?" Harper breathed out, eyes narrowed but a grin on her face. Her eyes slowly slid to the sword, about a body's-length away, on the cold floor. Without a second thought, she dove for it, hand reaching out desperately to grasp the hilt of the blade. With that in her hand, she would be unstoppable.

Ghost moved just as fast in her field of vision, spinning around to reach for the weapon as well. Did he have multiple? Harper hadn't checked. Stupid on her part. She raised her smaller blade in her free hang in an awkward but powerful motion towards the other instructor, as if warding him off from her kill.

Aviator
Nerdy.
Sanctuaryforall1

TEMPLATE © BOKEH​

 

[Nerdy.]

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

Charlie, in fact, did not appreciate Ghost's choice of words, or choice of anything, currently. She thought he was different, he wasn't like her father, he didn't get roaring drunk, he didn't hit her, or hurt her... though he had threatened her and he had raised his voice quite drastically at her... but she could take that, she could understand that... well not the threatening, but she didn't honestly think he would hurt her, or follow through with his threats. He did them for show, for the strange male dominant pride and superiorness that she had seen in every man that she had known. Whether it had been Jeremy, or Caspian, or Noah, Harry and Wolf, or her instructors from training, or any male she had known... They all had used her in some form or manner. But... She didn't take this as true for all men... and even if it was, she didn't hold it against them as some might, she had seen the worst of it, yes, but she had also seen the good in them too. Caspian had risked much for her, he had spent time with her just to make sure she could pass initiation, he had dedicated much of his income to her and her family when she had been struggling with work... He had looked after Aubrey like an older brother, or even a father. Then of course, her own father, Henry had been a lot of what she wanted in a man, he had been quiet, not aggressive or harmful, he had been attentive... though he had lacked emotion... he had lacked that true openness... Charlie sighed inwardly, she simply wanted to know what kind of a man Ghost was. He didn't choose aggression, but would he turn to it? He used words like a sword, but when he was left empty of what to say, would he continue to use his wits and brain? And what would she do? The gentle, kind, loving medic that simply helped everyone for better or for worse... Would she stand there and let him go? Would she play defensive and only defend when absolutely necessary, or would she try something new?

She had felt the adrenaline pumping in her blood, and the thumping in her ears mirrored that. The yelling and screaming of initiates around her was like a terrorized memory of initiation for herself, and she remembered how she had often run and hidden, played it safe, hid behind Caspian. But ultimately she had always been defeated, someone like Alyssa, or Wolf had always ended up defeating her easily. She hadn't even tried. So this time, she felt compelled to try, maybe it was silly, it was definitely not strategically smart, but she felt compelled to try. Anyway, she wasn't going to win, so might as well get her frustration out now and get knocked out early right? Before the floor was scattered with sweat. She took no longer than necessary to charge at Ghost. He seemed surprised, disappointed. Charlie almost smiled. She didn't care.

The fight was as expected, Ghost won out 9 times out of 10, or 9.9 times out of 10. She was not doing well, her body stung from where Ghost had sliced, stabbed and slapped with his sword. It burned her body and yet fueled it on even more. She was stubbornly resilient, and that was showing now more than ever, she had taken many more, and much worse hits than these, and she would continue on even through the pain. She had only gotten a couple hits on Ghost, but she wasn't skilled with a staff, nor was she skilled at fighting in general. Maybe she really would ask Harper to help her out, do some training with her, it's not like Caspian was around for her to train with him anyway. She was breathing hard now, heart beating fast yet almost seeming to skip certain beats, causing her vision to blur slightly. She really should train more. She bit her lip as her right arm throbbed, stung and burned too much, causing her to only use the staff in her left arm. It was a large staff, so it was meant to be used by two hands, even for a large person. But she couldn't use her right arm, it felt like it had fallen off, and was unresponsive, yet she knew that it had not, not legitimately. She gritted her teeth, hitting at Ghost with all her might, only for him to duck into her side, before she could react, and she felt the brunt force of his sword's butt on her back. She let out a loud grunt as her body propelled to the floor, her back throbbing now. The staff flew out, rolling a few feet away, and she gasped for air as she lay there. He walked in front of her, and she saw his boots.

Boots in front of her face. Now that was a familiar sight. She could immediately remember Jeremy's boots.. They were huge, a size 11 at least, dark leather boots with large soles that were built for war and heavy work.. , not only did she remember them standing in front of her face, but barreling towards it too. Yes, steel capped.. She recalled seeing Wolf, Alyssa, Harry and Noah's shoes in front of her face, how out of place Noah's small black sneakers looked, how Alyssa had blood stains on the bottom of her red and white boots, how Wolf had.. Wolves on them - very original - and how Harry never wore the same pair twice... She remembered the sound of laughter and taunts they would assail upon her after and during the beat downs and bullying. She recalled her instructors boots, plain black dauntless boots with frayed aglets, she remembered their disappointment in her, how when she was knocked down they just walked away... Yet... Not all was bad. She remembered Henry's boots, simple blue leather with white laces, with a small tear on the left boot, and how when she was a little girl learning to walk and would fall over, he would squat, and he would inspire her to get back up. Then she remembered Caspian's boots.. Like her father's they were big and made for a heavy person, they were dark and she could recall how they used to smell largely of alcohol, leather and Caspian's feet.. She recalled how she saw them with both safety, love and familiarity, how he had come to her rescue after Alyssa and the boys had gotten to her... and yet with fear and panic as well. She recalled how she had woken up to those boots, her body racked with pain and Caspian stinking of alcohol, out like a bullet. She had recalled the terror and panic, the guilt and traumatizing realization, the way she wanted to rip the skin off of her body. She recalled the anger at Caspian, the hatred in that moment. She recalled how she had run, she had run away and hidden from everyone. Because she had felt defeated again. In a new way. A different way. A worse way.

As she felt now. Defeated again. Always defeated. She recalled how after she had run away, Caspian had found her, and when she told him how it had been for her, how she didn't want it, and he had been drunk, and had hurt her. He had been terrified, traumatised and had apologised profusely. He had been so ashamed, he broke down into tears and opened his heart out. He even tried to stop drinking for a while, though that would always be the devil he fought with. He had done everything in his power to right that wrong. But it hadn't been any use. You couldn't undo it. But she loved how he had tried. He had accepted the wrong he had committed and only became determined to do better. And he had. Charlie felt a bit more at peace from this, she truly didn't hold it against him anymore. He was forgiven. However... She was not defeated. Not for good.

Charlie used what strength she had left, she rolled to the side, grabbed her bo staff and using the agility she did have, leaped up to fight again, and she whirled around. She felt a surge of satisfaction as her staff met with Ghost's ankle, and again in his ribs. They both were exhausted, and stood there heaving for breath, but Charlie managed to smile. "Don't tell me what's good for me." She declared. Ghost shook his head, irritated at her. Had she busted his grand plan? She felt a little bit of guilt inside her, but she tried to bury it. Why did she care about what Ghost had wanted to accomplish? Why, for once, couldn't she care about what SHE wanted to accomplish? She might have considered that, if her instincts had not kicked in. She did feel sorry for him just a little tiny bit, he had such a cute expression on his face when he was frustrated, like a little 5 year old when they were trying to explain themselves but didn't have the words. How his face seemed to squeeze with intent and yet he would be thinking so his cheeks stiffened and the corner of his eyes were pulled tight. It was frankly a little adorable if she was being honest, and she wanted to forego this entire competition... No... no she didn't... Why was she so enchanted with him? What was it that made her so... so foolish? She gritted her teeth. Her eyes glanced though, at a figure that was only just in her peripheral vision. Harper. Remembering how Ghost and Harper had seemed to challenge each other before, CHarlie was acutely aware that she had stolen that duel away when she had attacked Ghost, and now it was going to backfire, Harper was going to get Ghost while they were both down. Charlie... Had wanted to finish her fight with Ghost, but she hadn't wanted Harper to do it for her. Charlie groaned and dropped her staff, leaping into Ghost's arms like a long lost lover after years apart.

The pain that resonated in her body was as much physical as it was simulation. She felt herself lose control and her body soon fell limp to the simulated death. She did not hear Ghost, nor feel him, and her body lay limp and still on the floor.

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

The fiery blonde was getting more and more fired up as Harper's words resonated deeply within her chest and into her body. She felt immense pride from the instructor's words. Obviously she was improving, though Harper was so much better than Maggie had been... Maggie had been so easy to take down, though granted she had seemed out of sorts and Aubrey WAS very skilled with knives... But gosh damn if Harper wasn't an absolute powerhouse! She seemed perfect! Aubrey felt respect swell up inside of her, she wanted to be just like Harper when she grew up, except... in a higher position of power. Not just a soldier or instructor. Leadership. That was her goal, and nothing and nobody would stand in her way. Not Harper. Not her friends. Not even... not even... Finn... Her chest tightened just then and to her dismay as Harper got in a good hit just then. Why was she so unsure about that last one? It's not like she meant she would drop Finn as a friend, a best friend, she just meant that she was vying for that top position. Same as him. Right? Get a grip. She gritted her teeth and threw herself into the fight, only to let out a gasp, mixed with a laugh, as Randi jumped in to the fray. "You... Okay whatever, let's have some fun!" She giggled girlishly as the fight got more intense and enjoyable.

The three of them were not evenly matched, Harper was much better than them, and Randi and Aubrey had different skills, but were similarly trained. THerefore the fight was very exciting for anyone who could be watching. One moment Aubrey was dodging Harper's knives and then aiming her axes at Randi's legs, as the girl leaped over her, swiping at Aubrey, to which she dodged, only to send a leg kicking into Harper's chest. That's how the crazy fight went, bouncing from target to target, Aubrey was sure they looked as badass as it felt, she was sure that if someone was filming then it would look like an awesome scene in a movie. She had the largest smile on her face, panting through her teeth, she felt sore all over, but it was good, it was fun. Randi was also grinning from head to toe, and Harper... Wait... where was Harper? Aubrey had almost no time to process that Harper was gone as Randi assaulted her like a bullet. "Geez, where did Harper go to.." Aubrey said, watching as Randi's eyes lighted to this information. The two of them were processing this at the same time as attacking. Randi had just zipped past Aubrey's left shoulder and swiped at it aggressively, causing her grip to loosen on her axes. She bit down hard on her cheek, feeling her teeth cut into it a little, and she spent no extra time talking, instead she dropped the axe, and grabbed Randi's arm as she ran past her, and using her brute strength, she squatted down, pulling Randi over her head and onto the floor in front of her. Regardless of whether Randi had rolled away graciously or flopped like a fish, Aubrey had to catch her breath and pick up her axe again. She stayed in her squatted position, wielding both axes like some viking queen.

As soon as Randi was on her feet, Aubrey leaped in the air, her legs kicking out to try and get at Randi's gut, only to be blocked by the girls arms, and watching her flip away graciously. Randi gave her own assault, daggers shining in the air. Aubrey managed to block each dagger with her axes, even managing to temporarily cause Randi to drop one, only for her to catch it in mid air and stab her gut. Aubrey's face paled and she kicked Randi as hard as she could, her feet hitting the other blonde straight in the chest. Randi went barrelling backwards obviously a bit winded. Aubrey grabbed at her gut, it felt like it was bleeding, but it was not. Ah yes, fake pain, real pain, no actual weapons, no actual injury. Except ones done with enough brute force... So she could fight through this pain. She grinned, and without changing expressions, she dropped her axes and leaped like a lion, grabbing Randi around the waist and pounding her into the floor, hearing the wind come out of her, If she could just get those daggers... she could finish Randi. She reached for the dagger that had dropped out of Randi's grasp...

Interacting with: Randi Sanctuaryforall1

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

Not sure what to reply with him currently...

 

[Aviator]

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

A shrill, howling note whistled through Ghost’s ears when he rolled Charlie’s sickeningly heavy body off himself. As he angled a glance up at Harper Day, he couldn’t decide which event surprised him more: Harper’s sudden appearance or Charlie’s sacrifice. The idea that that had been Charlie’s purpose in bodying Ghost to the floor—saving him from Harper’s sneak attack—circled in his mind, picking at his brain like a carrion bird. Instead of feeling flattered by the gesture, he felt downright disturbed. Ghost was beyond redemption. He knew he didn’t deserve happiness, and some days he was convinced he didn’t deserve to live, either. He knew this fact with the certainty that he knew he himself had been the one to pull the trigger of the bullet that had splattered Drex’s brains all over that dark alley. Presumably, Ghost had done it to save Harper, who had been pushed up against a wall with her clothes in tatters when he stumbled upon her, but they both knew that had been just a convenient excuse to kill the bastard who had tormented him for the better part of his childhood.
And for someone as perfectly good and wholesome as Charlie to sacrifice her life for an incorrigible sinner like Ghost was more than absurd; it was a crime. The free-for-all was little more than a simulation, yet if that one act didn’t capture the reality of Charlie’s attachment to him, then he didn’t know what constituted reality. A chill crept through his bones. He would have to break her out of that mentality, swiftly, and if need be, ruthlessly. Charlie had thought she was ridding herself of a monster when Jeremy had disappeared from her and Sasha’s lives, but really she had just replaced him with one with even sharper fangs.
A sardonic voice snapped Ghost out of his internal musings. He looked up to see a smirk twisting Harper’s lips, to which he responded with a scowl. “Stabbing your rivals in the back now, huh?” he countered, mimicking Harper’s inflections as he climbed to his feet. Ghost wasn’t moving particularly quickly, but the movement hurt nonetheless. The durable leather of his boot had absorbed most of the impact of Charlie’s first blow to his ankle, but his ribs felt like a team of horses had trampled over them, and fire swooshed up his left side with every breath he took. If the simulated wounds translated into real life, Ghost would have intuited that probably two of his ribs were cracked. Not the worst pain he had ever endured, but certainly nothing to scoff at.
Suddenly Harper lunged for the abandoned sword that Ghost had been eyeing in his peripheral vision. He had dropped the ninjato when Charlie flung herself at him, and he knew with a heavy certainty that if he didn’t reclaim it before Harper lay her hands on it, his life was essentially forfeit. Ghost exploded into motion, clenching his teeth against the burst of pain it cost him. He dropped to the floor, grabbed Charlie’s staff where it rested at his feet, and from one knee cracked it in a downward arc just as Harper was reaching for the ninjato. She jerked her hand back, quickly withdrawing as one might before a bonfire. Before she could change her momentum, Ghost levered to his feet and nimbly covered the short distance between the sword and himself with a cartwheel. The stretching motion along the side of his torso caused tears of pain to spring into his eyes, but he nimbly scooped up the weapon the moment his hands touched the floor and stuck the landing without fumble. All in all, a success. Ghost tried to hide it, but sometimes his flair for the dramatic was simply incurable.
He lowered the point of his sword to the floor and took a neat step back, indicating to Harper that he wasn’t quite ready to duel. The truth was, her sudden appearance was something he hadn’t been prepared for, engrossed as he had been in his skirmish with Charlie, and he needed time to think. To plan, because Ghost knew that hell would freeze over before he beat Harper in honest physical combat. Time for the oldest trick in the book: stalling for time. “Thank you for indulging me in my selfish request,” he said politely to Harper, in the same pretty speech that had earned him countless beatings on the lawless, urchin-populated streets of Baneberry. Ghost had taken rigorous lessons in etiquette for the first few years of his life, and he drew on every ounce of charisma he possessed, speaking like a prince at the center of a ballroom. “Demand for you on the battlefield is clearly at an all-time high, so I appreciate your willingness to cater to my whims all the more.” Harper’s expression darkened minutely at the phrase cater to my whims, but she refrained from attacking. No doubt because she was amused to hear Ghost’s last words before the slaughter.
“My apologies for having to resort to such childish tactics”—he made a loose gesture with the sword he had used to lure Harper in for a fight—“but I saw no other way to get your attention. The truth is, I’ve been wanting to duel you with nothing held back for quite a while now. I plan to give you my best, you see, so please return the favor and don’t go easy on me. Win or lose, it would be an honor to know that I’ve fought you with everything you’ve got.” Ghost punctuated this sentiment with the smallest of smiles, which felt strange enough on his face. He was perpetually out of practice smiling. Despite his words having hinted that losing to Harper was a possibility, everything inside Ghost railed against the thought. Failure was not an option. “That being said,” he continued, his voice retaining its silky smoothness but his expression shifting into something almost melancholic, “I do wish you would have been a bit more prompt in your answering of my invitation. Miss Stark proved a more formidable opponent than I had initially given her credit for, and our encounter left me a bit scratched up. However, you don’t look to be one-hundred percent yourself, so how about we call ourselves roughly even to save future dispute over the outcome of—?”
Harper abruptly launched herself forward, long legs eating up the space between Ghost and herself, and stabbed her dagger at his right shoulder. A moment prior, he had made a wide, sweeping gesture with his free hand, which had altered his posture ever so slightly, his sword dipping lower to the ground, exposing the right half of his chest. And Harper had, fortunately, taken the bait. Quick as thought, Ghost twitched his blade up just in time and intercepted Harper’s thrust, swatting it aside. He remembered sparring with Randi yesterday and how tight, swift parries had yielded the best results, when he had minimized the sword’s movement to his wrist and fingers as much as possible. His adoptive grandmother, Margot, had always said Ghost had magician’s hands, and he found he had a natural aptitude for most skills requiring high levels of dexterity.
Before Harper could recover, Ghost capitalized on her surprise with a quick riposte and felt a swell of pride when the tip of the ninjato struck Harper’s clavicle. A flash of pain registered on her face, and she briefly retreated to assess the severity of the wound—not that the hologram weapons would leave any visible traces of one, though. “Trying to catch me while I was monologuing?” Ghost asked innocently, brown eyes sparkling. “Clever, but it seems as though I’ve drawn first blood. Who would have thought?” He beamed, as if the universe had taken an especially fortuitous turn. “Now then, I won’t delay our duel any further. Let’s begin, shall we?” Ghost was careful to keep a wall at his back, not so close that he had nowhere to move, but enough so that no one would be sneaking up on him from behind like Harper previously had. Sometimes he learned slowly, but he always learned well, and he never made the same mistake twice. Then, ignoring the persistent throb of his ribs, Ghost brandished the ninjato and settled his weight onto the balls of his feet, ready to leap lightly out of the way at a moment’s notice. His eyes darted down to where Charlie’s unmoving body lay on the floor, ensuring he wouldn’t trip over it.
He quickly discovered that his confidence had been misplaced—horribly. All traces of Harper’s amusement had evaporated after Ghost had landed that first hit, her features drawing into something severe. As if determined to repay blood with blood, she sprang at him like a spark of lightning, slashing her dagger in an aggressive flurry. Ghost read the trajectory of the first strike and scrambled out of the way, and the knife’s second pass came so close to his neck that he heard a metallic whistle. But he wasn’t so lucky the third time. Harper’s dagger was a blur of quicksilver as it came at his face and opened a stinging slit on his forehead, just above the brow. Ghost anticipated the waterfall of ruby tears that would come pouring into his eye and closed it, only to remember that there was no blood with the hologram weapons. He promptly reopened his eye, feeling stupid yet thankful that he could still see and Harper’s blade hadn’t lopped off a chunk of his hair. Ghost staggered away, seeking a short reprieve, but Harper was merciless and pursued him.
Her first assault set the tone for what was to come. Much like Ghost’s fight with Charlie, he was on the defensive, but unlike his fight with Charlie, he wasn’t on the defensive by choice. Rather, he was so busy fending off Harper that he used the rare instants when she wasn’t all over him to draw a breath. Despite the fact that she stood a few inches taller than him, Ghost knew that his longer weapon held the advantage of range, but she was so damn quick, how she barrelled past that sweet spot where Ghost could hit her but she couldn’t hit him and penetrated his guard. He was twice as graceful as Harper but only half as fast. The Dauntless-born soldier moved as if the world around her were made of smoke, and it distantly occurred to Ghost that Harper must have been learning battle formations and martial arts when he was learning which fork to use and tricks to make the backslant less evident in his cursive. Ghost withdrew whenever he could, hoping to conserve his rapidly draining energy, but Harper always followed, relentless.
Hold out… just a little bit… longer, Ghost commanded himself. Harper’s face was shiny with sweat, but if she was tired she sure didn’t show it. She curled her fingers around the hilt of the dagger in a backhand grip and slashed at Ghost in what would have been a devastating blow if it had connected. Instead, he spun away, his coat flaring out around his waist, and moved almost directly into Harper’s next strike. She flipped the knife into a forehand grip almost too fast for Ghost’s eyes to track and skimmed its point along his chest in a long, shallow cut. The ever-present pain in his ribs redoubled and he flinched, and Harper took the opportunity to follow up with a solid kick to Ghost’s stomach. His feet left the ground and he was flying for half a heartbeat, until his shoulder blades smashed into the wall behind him and he slid bonelessly down its length.
Miraculously, he had managed to keep hold of the ninjato, but that was meager compensation for the tempest of sensation ravaging his body. The pain was like a firework. Ghost heard it whistle as it rose, promising heat and light and fury, until it finally detonated, and he clamped his lips shut around a short scream. Stars swarmed the edges of his vision, and his stomach churned so violently that he feared he might throw up for the second time this morning. Dear God. Damn woman hits like a Mack truck. It was his only coherent thought in a sea of nonsense. In the past, Ghost had—regrettably—fought men and boys half a foot taller than Harper Day but with only a fraction of her ferocity. Or her insight. Had he really been so transparent with that one dodge? Then again, Harper could probably see that Ghost wasn’t very experienced with sword fighting and predicted that he would try to sidestep her attack rather than parry. His plan had seemed so much better in his head than in reality. For the first time, a cold finger of fear slid down Ghost’s back, and he had half a mind to abandon the sword Harper sought and run as fast as possible in the opposite direction, which in his current state would not have been very fast. This wasn’t a fight so much as outright abuse.
But Ghost hadn’t come so far for nothing. At this point, it would be better to risk it all than to walk away without a shred of dignity left intact. Ghost shook his head to clear it and forced himself to focus on Harper. She was watching him with a curious expression that reminded him of a cat with a mouthful of feathers, as if she were simultaneously disappointed and on the verge of bursting out laughing but was—marginally—too polite to openly mock him. For once she remained stationary, tapping one foot imperiously. The message was clear: Surrender, or do you want more? With a huge effort, as if he were pushing a boulder up a slope, Ghost somehow found the strength to clamber to his feet, clutching the wall with one hand for balance. “This is… nothing,” he panted, his body so doubled over that it nearly formed a right angle. His legs tremored beneath him, but Ghost’s mind was made up, admittedly more from foolish pride than genuine courage. Because he was still very, very much afraid, and when he looked at Harper Day he saw the girl who impassively stood by as her boyfriend and his pack of meatheads hauled off on Ghost in alleys and in the schoolyard.
The memory triggered a deep red anger inside him, but he wasn’t sure if it was directed at Harper, at his own incompetence, or at the world in general. Probably a little of each. You piece of trash! Are you even trying?! shouted a furious voice inside Ghost. Losing honorably was one thing, but complete humiliation was another. Briefly his gaze settled on Charlie’s limp form again, and he felt a spike of regret for the way he had stood over her lording his victory. Then his eyes narrowed on Harper and something inside him tore loose. So. In all these years, she hadn’t changed even a little. She had victimized Ghost then, and she was victimizing him now, taking pleasure in it all the time. And yet Harper was so damn beloved among her faction of unrefined brutes and social Darwinists. Fine, then. If selling one’s soul was the price of fitting in, then Ghost wanted no part of it. His plan had failed, and he knew there was no chance of winning, and the pain of his various injuries threatened to drag him down into darkness, but he would make one last stand just because he could.
The ninjato wasn’t a particularly big sword, but to someone who despised working out as much as Ghost, it felt impossibly heavy in his single hand, so he hefted it in two for the first time. Normally, amid a time of such desperation, he would be scanning his surroundings to see what he could use to his advantage. But the training arena had been made as a frustratingly neutral environment, the walls and floor devoid of any notable features except the lining of blue mats. Except for one flaw in the design, and that had less to do with the room itself and more to do with the overall format of the free-for-all. Ghost caught a flicker of motion behind Harper and to her right, and he very nearly laughed but turned it into a convincing cough. At last. His guardian angel had finally come.
Ghost leveled his blade to shoulder height and sidled a few steps to the side, as if to circle around Harper. She arched an eyebrow but mirrored his movement, keeping an even distance between them, for now. Ghost inched closer. Harper did too, her dagger winking maliciously in the light. Finally, when Ghost had her right where he wanted her, he leapt at Harper Day with a snarl that was equal parts rage and pain. Harper raised her dagger to deflect the tip of the ninjato from her body, but that wasn’t Ghost’s intent. Instead, he locked blades with her and with every last scintilla of strength, Ghost shoved, so that Harper, obviously caught off guard, was forced to take one step backward, then two.
In the interval from when Ghost had stood up to when he’d started circling Harper, one Mercy Cartwright had glanced up from where he sat off to the side of the marked-off fighting ring, having been assigned the duty of retrieving fallen initiates’ “corpses” as they were eliminated to avoid being trampled upon or otherwise harmed. Perhaps to Mercy’s surprise, it hadn’t been an initiate who had fallen this time, but faction medic Charlotte Stark. Probably grumbling under his breath about how insipid a task he’d been given in place of participating in the free-for-all, he had taken his sweet time approaching Charlie’s body, so much that she likely would be waking up soon and thus rendering his services useless. To her, at least.
But not to Ghost, who had been avidly awaiting the moment of Cartwright’s arrival ever since the delivery of his monologue of thanks to Harper, at which time Ghost had been formulating his plan. To make sure that Harper had never moved too far out of range of Charlie’s body in the event that Cartwright made a sudden appearance, Ghost had pretended to stagger, breathless and wounded, around the room after each exchange, and Harper had given chase every time, never knowing that she was being pushed around a gameboard. Aha, had she really thought the Holy Ghost would be knocked around so easily? Foolish woman. He would break her.
As she stumbled backward, Harper’s heel collided with Mercy Cartwright’s crouched form, where he was awkwardly trying to hook his hands under Charlie’s armpits and tow her to safety. At the touch, Cartwright looked up with wild eyes and scampered out of the way, luckily pulling Charlie partway with him. Harper teetered for a dangerous second, arms flailing for balance, but she didn’t fall. No matter, though. She was overbalanced, and that was all the opening Ghost needed. This is Dauntless. We don’t play nice, and we don't pull punches. Harper’s own words from when she had been describing the free-for-all to the initiates echoed in Ghost’s head. She had practically been asking for a dirty fight, so he would oblige her. Straining against the pain, he charged after Harper, swinging his sword in a powerful blow. Harper parried it, narrowly, but Ghost hammered her back with a second and a third in rapid succession.
A strong emotion, black and pulsing, swept him up, but he was too familiar with anger to mistake it for that, and his gut told him it wasn’t jealousy, either. By the time of his fourth thrust, Ghost had pinpointed it as hatred, pure and unfiltered. He wanted to see Harper Day bleed. He wanted to prove himself smarter, stronger, superior in every way when he vanquished her. Ghost knew that, even if he was the one to walk away from their duel, he would succumb to his existing injuries in a matter of minutes, especially after the way he had continued to push himself. No matter, though. He didn’t care about the others. Not when he had been dreaming of this day for so long. Ghost and his wrath were wind and rain, unstoppable forces of nature bearing down on his rival in a hurricane. “You—are—mine! Hyaaahh!” he cried in time with each strike. All traces of the polite gentleman who had thanked Harper for her attentions were gone, and Ghost might have been discomfited to hear such a feral growl rip from his own throat if he were capable of thinking of anything other than winning. So it came as something of a shock when he felt an ominous, icy prickle start up in his stomach and looked down to find Harper’s dagger buried to the hilt in the burnt-orange fabric of his waistcoat.
Although unable to cleanly parry Ghost’s final strike, Harper had turned ever so slightly, so that the blade aimed for the center of her chest took her in the bicep instead. And yet there was the unmistakable hint of a smirk on her face that only added to Ghost’s storm of confusion. No, this… this couldn’t be… How? He couldn’t feel his legs anymore and merely saw them buckle, but he didn’t fall all the way to the floor due to the dagger still embedded in him, the end of which Harper was holding. The ninjato slipped from between his dead fingers and clattered to the floor. A sensation even more sinister than the impending numbness crept up on him, and looking into Harper’s prideful gaze, Ghost knew. That she had baited him into taking that final lunge. Harper Day had left herself wide open on purpose, much like Ghost himself had at the very start of their fight, knowing that she would get hit but have a chance to deal an even greater blow to her opponent in exchange. A sacrifice made for a high reward. Strangely, Ghost wanted to weep, scream, and swear all at the same time. From his years spent playing cards as his main source of income, Ghost knew there was nothing worse than the feeling of a trickster tricked.
Amid the incredulity, the burning shame, the heartbreaking despair, and the empty void of worthlessness, he felt a begrudging kernel of respect for Harper, and resented her all the more for it. He coughed, expecting blood but tasting only sour saliva. The wound in his stomach was bloodless, too, but still gave a sickening squelch! that he knew he would remember for the remainder of his life as Harper pulled her weapon free. Ghost had no idea what he would have said to her in that second even if he were physically capable of speech, which he wasn’t. Harper, however, had no such problem, because Ghost heard her say something as his knees thudded against the floor, but her voice registered as little more than a distorted blur. Some defiant, vastly impractical part of him considered it a small victory that he hadn’t heard Harper Day’s parting words, whatever they were, and he didn’t have to feign ignorance. Ghost’s nerves were flickering off, one by one, falling silent, like a blackout spreading through a city. There was the faintest impression of an impact as the floor brushed up against his palms and chest and face, and then the shadows embraced him.

 

[xayah.]

LEAH YOUNG

erudite to dauntless | 16 | initiate​

Despite being the faction known for approaching situations with reckless abandon and no concern for oneself, they certainly didn't test for these qualities during initiation. At first glance, a free-for-all seemed like just the event to encourage such behavior. A pile of weapons perfectly in the center, stacked high and full of variety, was practically inviting the initiates and instructors to rush in and devour one another in an attempt to grab one. Leah swore she could see some salivating at the sight of them. After all, the past few training sessions had been a series of fearscapes, one after another. If there was any way to get rid of pent-up anxiety and stress in Dauntless, it was through beating the consciousness out of your fellow faction mates. In addition, it was a surefire way of making sure you ranked high enough to get the points mentioned earlier, right? Wrong. Free-for-alls rewarded the last ones standing, not the amount of people you took out or running in head first and dying first. Leah felt a bit satisfied at having out thought the system, but she knew that when the crowd thinned, it'd a contest of brute force and compared to people like Finn, Leah would just have to rely on making them fight it out first.
At the sound of Harper shouting 'go', with a little notice on the side that Ghost was a free target, Leah feigned sprinting all out for the hoard of weapons. She took a couple long strides, thankful she had long legs, before gradually decreasing in distance. The people around her passed her with ease, failing to notice the deliberateness of her actions. They were tunnel-visioned, like dogs running towards a ball their owner had thrown, and just like dogs, a fight soon ensued over them. A quick glance over the chaos, along with a quick, temporary plug of the ears at some very audible and deafening screaming—specifically a Ms. Aubrey Stark, and Leah saw some had resorted to a similar strategy. Some surprised her, like Thorn who was Dauntless through and through, but she didn't have the chance to remain that way.
A blade, longer than the knives they were given to stab and slash at each other with before, came in from the left and aimed directly at her neck. If it landed, it was almost a certain one-hit knockout of the event for her. Thankfully, Leah was light on her feet and perceptive. The glint of the blade in her peripheral vision was all the Erudite princess needed to duck the blow. It was times like these she breathed a sigh of gratitude and relief at having suffered through years of ballroom dancing. The horrid affair made gliding and movement easier than normal. While ducking, Leah observed the rotation and force of the person attacking her. They hadn't been memorable enough for Leah to bother noting their name, but the one thing she could tell was how overrotated they were. This is why you all should try using your brain sometimes. With slight angle of her body, Leah stood up with enough force to throw her attacker off balance, stunned, and on the ground. The blade rattled as it fell out of their grip, and taking that as an opportunity, Leah dashed towards it before retreating from the scene, leaving her assailant vulnerable to the overly excited initates besides them.
The blade felt front-heavy, far different from the throwing knives she had grown used to. What a weird sentiment. She could already feel her family's judgemental looks if they saw the very sight of their daughter weaving and bobbing through various fights with a weapon in hand. The blade felt a little clunky and definitely slowed her maneuvers down but not enough to place her in harm's way. She would rather have the protection than fight hand-to-hand. However, that didn't mean she was satisfied with her current equipment. Scanning the mass of bodies and fervent fighters, Leah's eyes zoned in on any potential knives or guns lying about. When the crowd thinned and she had to deal with the survivors, there would be no way a heavy sword would save her. She might as well have knocked herself unconscious if a sword was her only option.

 

[paralyzed]

Night Scott | Abnegation-born, Dauntless initiate.
Interactions: Jaxom/ Wolfiee

Night’s eyes searched the room for someone to stake. He held up the weapon in his hand. The spear looked so realistic, he wondered what it actually was. Possibly a broom handle. His thumb brushed the top of it and soon felt the sensation of pricking his finger. He quickly pulled away, his hand clenched at his side. A feeling of nausea threatening to take over, his mind quickly searched for something to put his attention on. The aftermath of a dual came into view, with the victor standing above the fallen, dual axes in hand. Night scanned him, the target in question was his fellow initiate Jaxom. Night imagined having that many tattoos would provide some sort of immunity to the pain of being stabbed. Not enough to resist succumbing to ‘death’ if stabbed with enough quality attacks though. Slowly approaching him from behind Night spun the spear in a circle to hype himself up. He was only a short distance away, Jaxom could turn around anytime and he would lose the element of surprise. A spear was both a melee and ranged weapon, Night could use it either way. If he threw it at the area around Jax’s neck it could immediately eliminate him. There was also the chance of the spear flying right past him and landing far away. Not only would that catch the ax-wielding boy’s attention, but Night would also lose his only means of offense. He would be butchered to bits. Melee it was. His spear gripped tightly in both hands, he aimed its tip at the back of Jaxom's neck. What am I doing, he thought. I can take him, this is dauntless after all. Stabbing someone in the back may get you power but not the kind Night wanted. He wanted the experience. He changed his target, a stab to the side ought to get his attention without impairing him too much. The spear came in contact with Jaxom’s side but Night made sure to quickly remove the weapon from his reach. As Jaxom turned to face him he held the weapon out, ready to stab at the slightest movement. Jaxom began moving his axes in circles, approaching Night. “Real competition ey? I like the sound of that.”


As soon as Jaxom charged, Night thrusted the spear forward and felt the slightest bit of contact with his side. Night pulled the spear back ready to strike a second time in an attempt to down Jaxom but his attention was changed to Jaxom’s axes. One made contact with his forearm, the other blocking his attack. Night found himself in a dangerous position, a spear was worthless at this range. Night shoved to get himself some room. Neither of them was in striking range, but that could change in a split second. He watched as Jaxom scanned the environment, wondered what went on in his head. Jax’s attention returned to Night now, and he prepared himself for a second round. A jab attempt ended with a block from Jax who couldn’t seem to get close enough to swing his axes without Night using his spear against him. If he was going to win this fight, he would have to change things up. Night charged Jax, spear pointed toward his center. As Jaxom turned to avoid being stabbed, Night turned his weapon, the blunt side knocking away Jaxom's ax. He felt a sense of pride at having predicted a way to get rid of Jaxom’s ax. That was until he realized it was plural, axes. Worst of all, he had turned his back to him. Night tried to get away but felt the crushing pain of Jaxom’s second ax to his back. He stumbled forward hoping it wasn’t enough to ‘kill’ him. The pain caused his vision to blur but he tried his hardest to face Jaxom and not give in to it. Once he got his bearings, Night concocted a second plan. “I’ll give you that one, but how about you dodge, this!” He threw his spear directly at Jaxom who prepared to block it away. With his attention on the spear, Night ran forward and tackled him to the ground. The air was knocked out of him but even with empty lungs Night didn’t want to let the opportunity get away. He pulled back his fist and let it fly. He got in a couple of shots before Jaxom threw Night off and to the side. Night pushed himself up and off the ground. Don't give him a chance to recover, take him down. A hook to the side of the head should knock him out. He slowly approached Jaxom, his pace increasing in speed. A scream unconsciously left his mouth. His fist balled, he swung in a hooking motion but whether it be poor timing on his part or another dodge from Jax the only thing he came in contact with was the air in front of him. He turned in time to see Jax’s uppercut but forgot to react. Night’s head snapped back as he fell onto his back. For a moment unconsciousness felt like it would take over, it would be peaceful.

To him, defeat didn’t sound so peaceful. He rose to his feet, a scowl plastered on his face.
Wiping his lip with the top of his hand revealed blood. Spitting the defeating taste of iron from his mouth, he looked him in the eye.
“Is that all you got?” he asked trying to sound intimidating before checking with his tongue if he still had all his teeth.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Randi

Mood: Excited

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Aubrey

“Looks like it’s just us now.” Randi laughed, clearly enjoying the fight despite having taken a few blows. She looked at Aubrey with a smile that made it clear she was having fun fighting the blonde, something the two had never really gotten to do before. The rush of adrenalin coursing through her body was like a drug as it pushed her forward, blazing in her veins alongside the exhilaration of a real and truly interesting fight. Aubrey was someone Randi had always found fascinating, the way she seemed willing to do anything to achieve her goals, the drive she had. It was admirable and Randi wondered what it must be like to have that sort of ambition. While Aubrey seemed to lead her life driving herself towards an end goal, Randi was a bit more carefree and in the wind, confident in her own abilities that she will land where is right for her. It had worked so far and her life was exciting and interesting, perfect for her young blood. She couldn’t help but wonder if Aubrey felt the same, if she ever would feel the same, or if she would let the hunger for domination eventually consume her.

It was these thoughts as well as several others the flitted through the back of Randi’s mind as the two lionesses remained locked in a brutal battle. Her back was sore from Aubrey driving the hilt of her ax against her spine when she missed a lunge and left herself open. Now, mere seconds later, Randi had managed to drive her dagger into Aubrey’s gut and in return had been knocked backwards with a thump that echoed through Randi’s entire body as she felt the air forced from her lungs by the sudden impact with the floor. Oh, her back would definitely be killing her at work tomorrow. Knowing there was no time to lay around and wheeze like an old man Randi rocked backwards and then shot herself up onto her feet just in time for a feral Aubrey to slam her back into the ground. “Damn, you like it rough, don’t you?” She laughed though winded and yet still smiling.

She could see Aubrey was making great attempts to claim the dagger she was still holding onto, having dropped her battle axe before lunging. Randi smirked and held firmly onto the blade as she wrapped her legs around Aubrey’s waist with a constricting grip before flipping them over so Randi now sat mounted atop the equally battle thirsty blonde. Since her arms were still loose Aubrey was able to get a few good blows to Randi’s stomach but when she aimed higher Randi flipped the dagger in her hand and used its blade to block Aubrey’s flying fists before aiming a blow back at Aubrey’s face.

Randi tightened her legs around Aubrey’s waste, doing her best to upset the invisible wound she had delivered earlier. Once again Randi’s back erupted with pain as Aubrey managed to bring her knee up with great force causing Randi to jump off of her in order to escape getting kneed again. Just like that both blondes were back on their feet. Still smiling Randi’s eyes sparkled with the excitement of such an entertaining fight. “I mean this in the best way possible, but we should have done this years ago.” She laughed as she rushed towards Aubrey once again. The two blondes became locked in an intricate dance of rotating slashing and striking at one another. Aubrey successfully landing a blow to the side of Randi’s head with a firm closed fist, Randi planting her elbow into Aubrey’s sternum as they twisted past each other, Aubrey landing a swift kick to Randi’s side, Randi slashing Aubrey’s leg with her dagger before the other girl could pull away. Both girls were becoming quite battered as the fighting continued but neither looked anywhere close to giving up to the other.

Nerdy.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Fable

Mood: Determined

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Finn

Finn was fast, that was something she had quickly caught onto in their first few heartbeats of combat. He had already gotten several good blows on her and she had barely done anything back. Her gut and back ached from the knee and elbow she had taken but luckily her determination and adrenalin took the edge off as she lashed out at him. FINALLY! She grinned as the young man hit the floor with a thump, her strike missing its mark but still having hit him enough to put him on the ground. She raced over and aimed a kick at his side, sending him sliding slightly across the floor. She needed him to stay down, she had to get rid of him in order to get further. They were both in it for themselves right now and no matter how nice Finn was outside of the free for all she needed to forget about that now and focus on her needs and what would benefit her.

Such thoughts went so greatly against everything she had ever learned in Abnegation. Selflessness would not serve her well here, it hadn’t served her well there either. She had suffered and been shamed for years all on her own, her family leading the charge against her simply for the way she looked. She couldn’t be like them, she was nothing like them, she was more than they were and in Dauntless she could prove that. All the years of rage seemed to crash down on her and her multicolored eyes lit up like the fourth of July with resolve. Finn was already doing so well and she was at the bottom, he practically had his place in this faction and she needed to earn hers, he could afford to lose, she could not.

Racing forward with her battle-ax in a white knuckle grip she slammed it down into the ground where Finn had been lying prone. Speed however was once again on the young man's side as she noticed he had managed to role away in the final second and was now scrambling to his feet. Fable yanked her ax from where it had been implanted in the ground and with great effort, the blade came free. Blue and green eyes settled on the young dauntless boy as Fable wordlessly sprinted forward at him, ax held high but when it seemed he thought she might swing she restrained and watched where he ducked before slamming into him with full momentum. The swipe of nunchucks towards her head was cut off by the clink of their metal chain wrapping around the hilt of her ax which Fable then twisted in an effort to rip the nunchucks from Finn’s hands.

With the nunchucks now laying on the ground Fable knew she needed to think fast before Finn could grab them again. Swiftly and with surprising force she shoved the young man back until he hit the ground with a thud. Looking in his eyes she sent a soundless apology for her next move as she firmly placed her foot on the already likely winded boy’s chest. Tearing the battle-ax up and through the air Fable brought it down onto Finn’s neck in a swift and decisive blow that had the situation been real would have surely severed the young man’s head from the rest of his body.

Baratheon

code by Stardust Galaxy

Free For All

Involved: Vex & Thorn

Location: Testing Center

Interactions: Jax

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture and Death

The past twenty-four hours had been ripe with excitement for young Vex. Not only had she taken part in initiate training like a good little Dauntless wanna-be, but she had also pleased her master greatly. A delighted smirk pulled at the corner of her naturally pouty lips as she remembered the night before. She had stalked her prey, toying with him, knowing that he could tell something was amiss but never being able to tell just what until it was too late. Then she struck! Poor little Benny had no idea what hit him, one minute he thinks he is finally safe and sound back in his quarters, the next he is dangling by his hands from a hook in Vex’s pop-up torture studio. Oh, how his screams had delighted her ears and her ears alone. She reveled in the scent of fear that had rolled off of him as she whispered all the terrible and delightfully painful things, she would get to do to him, well delightful for her. Her master had let her have fun with this one and she was grateful but of course, like all things the fun eventually had to end. All of the wounds he bore from the torture would easily be mixed in with the scratches, breaking, and bruising of tossing oneself into The Chasm so that is exactly what she did. She dosed Ben with an undetectable drug that would paralyze him but keep him totally awake then watched the terror in his eyes as she dumped him into The Chasm to meet his painful end. It was delicious!

After that, she spent the rest of the night and early morning cleaning up her work so no evidence was left behind, just as she was programmed to do. It was lucky she had been able to attend a tune-up the day before when so many others were out partying. A fresh tune-up always left her feeling like she was walking on the sun without being burned, it made everything so clear, and her master's desires come to life in her mind. Like every time before this, she was so careful to never be followed. In fact, her performance had been absolutely perfect so far and no one suspected anything was amiss, she was just a transfer initiate from Erudite, another face in training and a very pretty one at that.

She had made it to the day's training briefing just in time and at the sound of a free for all she felt giddy. Her beautiful features shifted into an excited smile at the idea of finally getting to do some fighting, though she wished it was more real and death were an actual option. Those thoughts however stayed inside her mind as she examined the room around her and saw the other initiates getting equally excited, or at least most of them. Her eyes settled on the boy known as Thorn and the demons of cruelty in her soul yipped excitedly. While she couldn’t go full blown torture during the free for all she was certain she would be able to create some sort of fun for herself, starting with him. He would likely not even put up a fight, it would be like killing a bunny, and no one said it had to be a quick simulated death.

The moment the free for all began Vex was in the thick of it making her way towards a pile of weapons. In an instant she had her hands around two weapons she knew well, the first being a short sword, the second a whip. Just like that, she was turned onto kill mode, her predator-like instincts putting her in the mindset of her prey. Thorn was a pacifist; he would not be in the thick of the battle but would likely be hiding somewhere on the outskirts. As she began hunting her prey Vex made sure to get in a few good hits, stabs, and lashes here and there with the random fights she made her way through. The carnage around her was glorious and the spark in her golden-brown eyes ignited into a full force flame as she caught sight of the freckled boy she had been looking for. She considered sneaking up on him but decided rather to announce her arrival instead.

With a crack of her whip, she drew Thorn’s attention her way. The young man looked at her then the weapons she was holding and let out a sigh. He seemed almost unimpressed or was it unsurprised, it didn’t matter either way because the look annoyed Vex. It wasn’t any fun when they weren’t afraid. Thorn had experienced many pains and horrors in his life but Vex was something different and she intended to show it.

Lashing out with her whip, the tail grazed Thorn’s skin and would have left a long red streak had it been real. Stepping forward Vex tossed him her sword and purred, “It’s no fun when only one of us is into it.” The words were accompanied by a smirk that would make most men and even women do whatever she asked.

Looking down at the sword Thorn examined it then looked back up at Vex. “Then I guess we aren’t going to be having fun.” He sighed simply. “Sorry.” And in his soft brown eyes, he did truly look apologetic for making the game less fun for her.

In a flash, the whip in Vex’s hand had lashed out again but this time it wrapped around the short sword before it was ripped back and caught by the young transfer. “No matter, I can always make my own fun.” She replied as she twirled the blade in her hand. Suddenly the young woman was lashing out at Thorn again with the whip, this time hitting him full force with the tail. As he raised his arm to block taking the sting to the face he winced as it lashed across his forearms. Where they were hidden seemed remote enough that Vex was certain everyone else would be too distracted by their own fights to pay attention to her and Thorn in their hidden corner. That was all the security she needed to begin her real attack.

As Thorn lowered his burning arms once the lashings had come to a pause he quickly raised them again when he saw the whip reaching out forcefully once more. His block was pointless however because Vex’s aim had lowered to his legs and with the force put behind the lash the whip wrapped around his ankle allowing Vex to yank his foot out from under him before racing over and stabbing her sword into the back of his knees so he could not stand.

Thorn screamed in pain as the bloodless blade left no real wounds on his body but the pain felt real and he was unable to get to his feet. He tried and failed once again to stand and when he was stuck supporting himself on his hands and knees, he heard Vex laugh. “This is why you should always fight.” She sneered as she circled him and lashed out with her whip. “You might have avoided this longer if you had and now you can do nothing to stop me.” She purred before unleashing a flurry of blows with the whip all over Thorn's body. She only came to a stop when the young man was in so much pain that he could no longer support himself. When that time came she sauntered over to him and laced her whip around his throat, pulling him upright in a strangling hold. “See, peace isn’t an option here little one.” She sighed in his ear as he choked. Knowing that she wouldn’t actually be able to kill him put a damper on her mood but she still had fun as she drove her sword into the top of his head, applying pressure slowly so he could feel the blade going in, even if it wasn’t real. Once he was ‘dead’ she let go and pulled her blade and whip off of his body.

Turning her attention back to the battlefield she came out of Thorn’s hiding space and threw herself back into the fray. No one had seen her and she doubted Thorn would mention what occurred to anyone else, he hadn’t mentioned the abuse at home, she doubted he would mention the abuse he had taken here. If anyone did find out about it she would simply state that she was teaching him that his way would only lead to pain because others don’t play by his rules.

As she danced across the battlefield in the heat of combat, she spotted two tasty looking initiates locked in a very seriouslooking brawl. “Shame.” She purred as she drew closer. Winding up her wrist she lashed out with her whip and caught Jax’s arm as he was pulling it back to strike. Giving a solid yank she pulled him towards her and shot him a flirtatious smile. “It looked like you were having fun.” She stated with a pleasing grin on her lips. “I figured we could have some fun of our own?” The exotic beauty suggested with a wink as she held up her whip and sword, ready to strike.

Wolfiee

code by Stardust Galaxy