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mood6

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  • lavender vale
    the fae
    the canteen
    excited
    grey sweatsuit
    interactions

    open
    Hopefully the doors would open soon. Lavender, bless her heart, woke up twenty minutes ago, but apparently here they aren't allowed to leave until the guard lets you out. Speaking of, a guard comes up to her cell and begins unlocking it, without a word. How rude. "Good morning!" She chirps, a big smile on her face. "Morning" He grunts back, obviously wanting her to shut up but she's not going to just yet. "I'm Lavender. What's your name?" She questions him, her smile still present but a bit more faded. "Pierce" He speaks again, before pausing. He seems to think for a moment before speaking again. "Watch yourself around here subject. Not everyone is as accepting as I am"

    Before she can ask what that means, he opens her door and moves on to the next one. Well that was strange. But it's okay! She can make friends here, easy! Before she can speak to her possible new friends, she is pushed over to stand in a line, where she assumes roll call is. Well, she'll just have to talk to them later. As she stares forward, a slight smile on her face still, she catches sight of something sparkling. Maybe an aura? She's heard of them, but never seen anyone's. Does that mean her soulmate is here? Holy shit. What should she do?

    Glancing down at her appearance, she fusses with her outfit, attempting to make herself more presentable for her potential life partner.
    coded by natasha.

 









  • The Changling ~ Eva


    Mood: Terrified, Irritated, and Most likely tired

    Outfit: Grey sweatsuit

    Soulmate: None

    Interactions: Open, Pierce briefly mood6 mood6
    Mentions:Her parents and such



    /*bottom text*/


    Eva didn’t sleep a wink last night. She had spent most the night muffling her sobs with her pillow and hiding under her blankets to try and make this nightmare disappear. None of her usual tactics were working. Whenever she opened her eyes she was still in that damn room. ‘If mo-no remember they weren’t your family.' Just yesterday she was supposed to be celebrating her seventeenth birthday with her “family”. When she thought of the bastards who had just let her be ripped from her home without a word against it, a wave of uncontrollable rage and sadness rushed through like icy waves. Eva whimpered in sudden pain as the powerful emotion tried to force her human form to change. “Stay calm, don’t change, don’t change.” That’s right she wasn’t a human anymore. ‘You never were, remember.’ She reminded herself that she was a changeling now. A horrid fae creature. The scientist that collected her the day before told her about her true nature. Eva couldn’t believe it. But they explained more of her abilities would surface now that she wasn’t taking her meds. And they were right. It had barely been twenty-four hours and she could already feel whatever humanity she had slipping away by the second.

    Eva guessed at some point her body became so exhausted that she started to finally slip into the land of dreams. Only to be jolted awake at the sound of her door being unlocked. With her heart racing that same pain of a forced change in her shape made her curl in herself. Eva groaned as the sound of bones shifting under her skin filled her ears. She could feel her fingers had become longer, thinner, and clawed as she balled up her hands. Eva refused to open her eyes not wanting to reveal that they were black as coals now. “I will be out in a second.” She whimpered in pain to the guard, not wanting to get hurt on her first day. The same sound of moving bones told her that she had maintained her shape. It was only then that she let her body relax. Slowly, and very begrudgingly, Eva opened her eyes. The guard who had opened her door got to witness the whole event, including how the black of her eyes bled back into the human blue. Without a word Eva quickly stood up and shot past the taller man, hissing in discomfort as the dragonfly-like wings of her fae shape slipped back into the skin of her back.

    Eva slipped into her place in the roll call line, arms tightly crossed her chest. She didn’t know entirely what she was doing but she hoped that she was following the right example of everyone else.


    Speech: "Text"
    Thought: 'Text'




/*do not remove credit*/
dead or alive.
coded by weldherwings

 


  • It was painfully silent in Helel's cell. The young woman sat on the floor, tucked away into the corner. Her eyes almost appeared empty, as if blankly staring into nothing. She only stared ahead, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, which were pulled against her. Eyes unmoving, she sat in waiting. She awaited the sound of a voice. The voice of a guard she knew would be coming, sooner or later. His appearance was part of repeating routine Helel felt she was caught up in. The days inside this place had blended together, melting into one another, and this was yet another one. Helel only sat in waiting for this one to begin.

    At the sound of his approaching footsteps and tired grumbling, her eyes moved. She registered his face, one that was all too familiar. She could not put a name to it, however. She only really knew him as Guard. He knew her well enough though.

    "C'mon, you. Let's go." He mumbles, rubbing at his face. He opens up her cell with no real hesitation, and waits for her to get out. Helel doesn't say anything in response, she never does. She just stands up slowly -- her legs shaking a little from the effort -- and eventually, she moves one foot in front of the other. The one lingering thought that was present within her empty mind was how she already missed sitting in the corner of her cell.

    Once she had finally made it out, the guard closed her cell door and Helel made to begin walking, until she noticed how he wasn't going anywhere. It wasn't like the demon needed him to lead her anywhere within this building -- she's been around its walls and rooms for far too long, it was all burned into her mind -- but he had never stopped like that before. A crack inside the routine. So Helel stopped, and turned to look at him, no real expression on her face. Perhaps he required something of her. Whatever it was, she could do it.

    The guard was staring down at the ground, his eyes flicking to her's once she was facing him, surprise quickly evident. He looks away fast, scratching at the back of his neck. "Uh..sorry." Color surfaced on his face. Embarassment. "Didn't think you'd.." He trailed off. He soon turned away after. "Uh. J-Just..go."

    Helel gave a very small nod. The last thing she saw of that guard was how he had opened up another cell, but there were no words exchanged between him and this unknown subject. An observation Helel had been aware of, but she could not place why he was like that. Odd.

    Helel resumed walking, moving on foot in front of the other again, her movements not exactly the fastest. Her speed had dwindled over the years. As a child, she had more of this swiftness to her. There wasn't a certain weight present like there was nowadays. She had been different, once. Those memories of before were far away now however, and Helel has trouble recalling them. Not that it mattered.

    Helel found her place in the roll call line, her eyes now trained straight ahead. She stood at the ready. She was a little more focused. Getting into this state seemed like part of the routine, too.
 









  • Oriental dragon ~ Meilan


    Mood: Chill has ever

    Outfit: Grey sweatsuit

    Soulmate: Undecided

    Interactions: Pierce briefly mood6 mood6 , Open to anyone
    Mentions: None really



    /*bottom text*/


    Meilan had always been quite the early riser, it didn't matter that she could see or even feel the rising sun upon her skin. She could just tell that morning was approaching and it was time to get moving. Even with her eyes open her surroundings were completely dark with splotches of color from people’s energies and the like. Ever so slowly Meilan pushed off her blanket and placed her bare feet on the floor of her room. She was not quite familiar with the layout of her room; she wanted to take things slow and not crash into the walls of her room. ‘Walls, that’s a new concept.' She had not been here very long and was still not entirely sure how to wrap her head around ‘walls’. Her home in ‘Mount Everest’, as the humans called it, did not have these walls. And she was beginning to become very frustrated with these structures. Meilan would not be surprised if her nose had changed shapes with the number of times she has smacked her face on them. On instinct, Meilan reached up to feel the shape of her face and chuckled to her at the motion. “Yes, because I am easily injured by a man-made structure.” She rested her hands on either side of her on the mattress and took in a deep breath.

    Meilan let her energy seep out into the world around her. She could feel the presence of an approaching guard a door or two down from hers. She let her grasp of the subject energies fade and stood to meet the guard at the door. Meilan could hear the key turning in the door of her room and the creak of the metal. “Morning, I believe I have met you before.” Meilan tilted her head to the side as her eyes locked onto Pierce as if staring into his soul. Which she technically was. “Well, I must go to roll call now, have a good day sir.” Without batting an eye Meilan expertly spilled past Pierce only just brushing against her door frame. “Oh, I was a bit off.” She was not expecting a response from the guard, it was more of a note to herself. She raised her hand to briefly touch her door to adjust her mental map. It only took a moment and she was stepping into the roll call line. With the way Meilan skillfully navigated around the other subjects you wouldn’t think that she couldn’t see a thing. But she was really just using the aura the others gave off to avoid bumping into them. And if no one asked, Meilan wouldn’t correct them.


    Speech: "Text"
    Thought: 'Text'




/*do not remove credit*/
dead or alive.
coded by weldherwings

 
Verity
The Leviathan


Verity awakens feeling grumpy and miserable. Her room has been recently stripped of it's decorations; punishment for yesterday's outburst. Not to worry though, they had reassured her. Verity was still in their good graces. Still a favorite with the potential to earn back her belongings, if only she would put aside this newfound tendency for troublesome behavior and go back to being the good girl they all remembered. Change can be difficult Verity. We understand that the sudden return to Balam has been stressful. So if not today, perhaps in time you will remember how to be your usual self. The doctor had sounded so certain. It bothered her to no end how these people claimed to know her. Bothered her more how even now she felt a seed of doubt to how it might be true.

She can hear the footsteps of the guard as they approach her room. The sound of metal grinding against metal turns her arms into gooseflesh even as the fight or flight part of her brain demands she make a decision, to either hold her ground or find a way to push past the guard rather than be stuck in a hole with no exit. Cornered animals are the most dangerous. It was one of the first lessons of hunting that Verity's father had instilled in her.

The guard must know it too. He pauses before opening the door to her cell and they look at each other calculatingly. Her face is still bruised, but she refuses to flinch. His hand leaves the door slowly, like he's not quite sure if she's tricking him into letting her go. She pretends not to notice that his other hand is poised on the taser at his hip. She'd like to say that she's got a plan up her sleeve, but not yet. She'll get out of this place eventually. For now, maybe the best thing she can do is play along till a better opportunity comes her way.

Verity steps past the guard and into line with the determined desire to act as if everything is normal. Show them that she's unaffected by their attempts to hurt her. Apologizing would probably be the smarter thing to do, but she's not quite ready for that yet. Besides, it will probably look more natural if she allows some time to pass. Let them think that they've managed to grind away that undesirable part of her that doesn't fit into their image of Good Girl so when she finally does 'come around' they'll think themselves to have won the battle, not realizing she's still out to fight a war.

Line up
Rebellious
Grey Jumpsuit
N?A
coded by natasha.


Quinn
The Trico

A lifetime of strict schedules means that Quinn’s internal clock wakes her up a good fifteen minutes before the guard arrives to open her door. Free time is a precious commodity, so she makes the best of it whenever she can. As part of her usual morning routine, the first thing that Quinn does is reach for the journal she keeps tucked beneath her pillow at night. This one is the Big Book of Dreams, which she uses mostly for recording whatever she can remember from her nightly adventures. Quinn keeps multiple journals for different reasons. Some are personal and some are made with the requests of certain psychologists and scientists in mind. The Big Book of Dreams is one of those often brought along to her appointments with Dr. Wendell, so she only writes what she doesn’t think will get her into trouble later. It’s certainly strange, but as this dream leans more towards the silly end of the scale she doesn’t think it will give the doctor any cause for concern.

****

A grin on her face, Quinn finished the final touches to the linework just in time for the familiar clunk of a locking mechanism to announce that it's time for morning rounds. There's no point protesting, so she tucks her pencil between the pages and puts the journal back into place; taking a moment to brush away invisible dust from the rest of her collection. A tidy home is the sign of a well kept mind. That's something that Dr. Wendell told her years ago. Quinn still isn't sure how true it is, but she makes it a habit to leave her room clean anyway. A small, rebellious part of her wonders if it's to make their rooms easier to search. She pushes it away almost immediately. She has better things to do than pick apart old memories. Besides, I don't want to turn into a sourpuss like Eugene.

The guard that opens her door is familiar, but not a regular. She doesn't want to risk calling them by the wrong name, so she settles on a generic "good morning," for greetings as they moved on to the next room and she stepped into line. With the guard facing away from her, Quinn leaned forward slightly to look up and down the hall; scouting for both new and familiar faces. Sometimes a new subject would be added to the roster or an empty space might mean that someone had been taken away for testing….or just taken away. No one would answer for sure where subjects went when they left for good, but Quinn didn’t believe the rumors that they were destroyed. Maybe some of them had died, after all she’d known a few subjects who had been sick and left, but for the rest of them? Surely they had been taken somewhere else for a reason.

Although the line was still incomplete, she spotted at least two unfamiliar faces in the crowd. One, Quinn immediately suspected was a fae; she had extraordinary wings and vibrant hair that made her stick out in the crowd of subjects. It was probably too early to be sure, but the Pink Haired Fae didn't seem too upset by the situation. A lot of new subjects were easy to spot based on how scared they were on arrival. It usually took a week or so for them to get into the routine and start to open up. Although there were always exceptions. If this newest arrival didn't stick out like a rose in the desert, Quinn might have missed her.

There was a younger looking girl as well, standing in the next row. Quinn was tempted to think that they might be around the same age, but looks could be deceiving among supernatural creatures. Quinn could tell she'd had a rough first night. She looked like she hadn't managed much sleep and was standing kind of awkwardly in line with her arms wrapped around herself. It'll be alright. If they'd been within talking distance, Quinn would have liked to tell her that whatever she was feeling was normal, but eventually you adapt to the facility. And it's not that bad. Most of the subjects are friendly and the staff are generally nice so long as you follow the rules.

From Quinn's place in the opposite row, she waved the new arrival, hoping to convey at least some sort of friendly welcome from a distance. There would be time at breakfast to start with the proper introductions.

Line up
Anticipatory
Grey Jumpsuit
Interactions: Pride Pride Mentions: mood6 mood6
coded by natasha.
 
Last edited:
Odette


Another day, another mundane cycle. Her day always started the same; Rising up early, probably one of the earliest as the guards and scientists attempted to reduce her mingling time as much as possible. Her presence in the roll call had been singular, safe for the guards who loomed over and analysed her every move. Her body had been reduced to bruises and scars, there wasn’t anything she could possibly do to jeopardise their lives: Something she intended to bring up in her next check in, hopefully they could relax some of the precautions in place— She wore the veil, what else did they want from her?


She stood alone, vision obscured by a cloth that matched her attire; white. If there was one thing she was grateful for, it was the fact she was definitely well looked after in terms of clothing; it was all fresh and often washed: Something that she assumed came naturally with being a favoured entertainer. She sung for people; her voice a beautiful rendition of the classics. There was often an ethereal tone to it, Odette wasn’t just a song-bird, she was The Songbird.

Naturally, she was a cheerful person, to an extent. There had been a lot of heartache in this facility and she had often been witness to death and betrayal. Scientists used and abused her for her healing abilities; Trying to bring subjects back to life. And Odette? She had to chose— Who should she save? It was easy to distance herself from the connections that she may have had; All those feelings were for naught. Odette wasn’t allowed to commune with others freely, nothing to taint their precious healer.
She shuffled from foot to foot, thoughts turning to her lack of appetite. It was only the ruckus that brought her back from the depths of her reverie that may have possibly saved her from the hunger that she’d experience later. The shuffling of feet announced the subjects that lined up— A signal that the guards took to move her away, promptly.
 

Brandish Rose


On all sides she could hear the rolling of heavy doors as cells were opened one after another. Ice blue eyes stared at the floor where she sat with her back against the wall and her legs brought up to rest her elbows on her knees. As the cell door next to her slid open with a bang Brandish’s eyes snapped upwards, locking onto the door before her. She had been a prisoner before, she had been tortured in unspeakable ways, but even now she did not let such a thing happen without putting up a fight first. Any pity she might have felt towards the humans who would enter her cell was long dead and replaced with a thirst for their pain and blood in exchange for what they put her through.

Anyone who knew her a year ago would never recognize her as the same woman she once was. Seven months ago, she had been kidnapped by a man who tore her to pieces and after escaping him she was scooped up by this place and written off as MIA by the people who were supposed to always have her back. If they believed her to be dead, then Brandish would make sure the heroic woman she had been was no more and instead had become the brutal survivor she was now. That was exactly what she was. She was a survivor but not the kind you pity, she would kill rather than be killed, that is what she did to the man who abducted her and that is exactly what she would do if given a chance to anyone who dared to get close to her here in this prison.

There was a pause outside her door as the men outside prepared themselves to enter, a battle strategy already having been shared. The moment the door slid open Brandish was on her feet, teeth turned razor-sharp and claws at the ready. She might not be able to use her siren song or her magic with the collar around her neck, but that didn’t mean she would go down without a fight. As the first two guards rushed her, she brought a clawed hand down across one’s upper arm while slamming the other in the side of the knee with a solid side stomp. The second man crumpled with a pained scream while the other fell back into the ranks of guards storming her cell. The small room quickly became crowded as guards rushed in to restrain her, some getting their flesh ripped in the process. It seemed that even after months away she hadn’t forgotten the hand-to-hand combat training that was required for all field agents to know in the FBI. Still, a seven-on-one fight would only last so long, especially once they managed to muzzle the raven-haired woman and cuff her down tightly until they could get the sedatives in her system. Even then she struggled, the sedatives only serving to remind her of the drugged state her captor had kept her in for so long during that month of true hell half a year ago. Finally, however, the drugs managed to calm her down, at least physically, enough for the guards to drag her out of her cell. Those who had been injured were rushed off to receive medical attention while others stayed behind to make sure Brandish remained sedated.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 









scroll








angel



mira.













mood

pretty happy











outfit

grey sweatsuit











location

the canteen











interactions

one of the guards, open!











tags

none















It was the same morning schedule as it always had been since the young angel had arrived at the facility. The day would start with the guards letting each of them out and then they would proceed to role call before their morning meal. Admittedly, the dream manipulator had trouble rising early in the morning as she frequently got caught up in her own mind's vivid imagination. But, this morning, she managed to pull herself back into a state of wakeful consciousness at a relatively decent time.

By the time one of the guards had opened the door of her cell, Miracle was itching to get out. While she did not mind being in her cell sometimes, she preferred the taste of the little freedom she got outside of the cell. She enjoyed interacting with other residents in the facility and loathed the loneliness that came with being alone. Though her cell was much nicer than some, solitude just was not the angel's friend. Since she had arrived at Balam around twelve years ago, Mira had become known as one of the social butterflies within the sanctuary. The innocent soul was more than happy to chat with anyone that crossed her path--even if it was only for a few moments. Her cheerful attitude had made her a sort of favorite in Balam.

"Good morning!" she greeted the guard who had freed her from her cell with her usual enthusiasm. Of course, she did not expect a response from the guard. After all, guards and creatures like her were not necessarily supposed to interact in an informal matter. But, over the years, Mira had figured out that some of the staff were not as cold as they appeared to be.

After the guard moved onto the next cell, Miracle wasted no time in leaving behind her stuffy cell and taking her in the roll call line.


♡coded by uxie♡
 

Gavriel Rene


Sleep? No. She didn’t really know what that was anymore. She hadn’t allowed herself to truly slumber in a long time out of fear of what she might see. The blood, the mangled bodies, the torn flesh, the glazed eyes of her kills. She didn’t want to see that more than she already did in her waking hours. Sometimes when she is simply walking around or drinking some tea, she will find herself face to face with a corpse from her past. She never meant to kill anyone, she never wanted this in the first place, if it had been up to her she would have died lifetimes ago like she was meant to. Unfortunately, fate was not that kind to Gavy and now she was not only a monster, but she had lost her mind and herself in the process.

As the door to her cell slid open the young platinum blonde girl looked over from where she sat cross-legged on the floor. In her hand was a piece of charcoal that she often used to draw her visions, both good and bad, on the walls or basically any surface in her cell. Her current work that she had spent all night creating in the small corner was a wilting rose whose petals turned to blood in the hand of a woman with a torn face. She had seen the woman and the vision several times and deep down she knew that it was the face of a life she had stolen. Part of Gavy wished she remembered more but another part was grateful to not always have to carry that burden.

When the guard motioned for her to stand and exit the cell Gavy did so with little hesitation. She walked gracefully but also with a slight sway to her step like she was dancing to some unheard song. Her eyes fixed upon the ground, and she moved her feet over the drops of blood that only she could see, careful not to step on them for fear that they would become massive pools she might drown in. Of course, this all only existed within her head and the floor before her was spotless. Eventually, she made it to the lineup and glanced around nervously, her charcoal-covered fingers rubbing against the sleeves of her gray hoodie.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH


Ronan Drax


Large muscles rippled beneath flesh as Ronan finished the last rotation of his morning exercise with a round of pushups. It was something he had been trained to do his entire life and even though he wasn’t in the fights anymore it seemed to be a habit the former gladiator couldn’t break. Each morning the moment he awoke he would start his routine and finish just as rollcall began. It was his way, and no one seemed to mind since it wasn’t like he was gearing up to fight the guards or anything like that. Despite his size and strength, Ronan was actually one of the calmer inmates at the Balam Sanctuary. He did not react as violently to the guards and the scientists as some others and though he clearly didn’t care for some of the humans he didn’t necessarily hate them either. Yes, some of them could be cruel and those were ones he could not stand, but others, such as Doctor Novak, could be quite kind.

Green eyes glanced up at the door as it slid open with the normal guard waiting on the other side. Ronan stood from his planked position and grabbed his shirt off the bed beside him. Without a word he walked out of the cell, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. He silently nodded a greeting to the guard who nodded his head in return, something the two men had started doing overtime a while back. Ronan figured that the man was likely counting himself lucky that he was assigned to the more tame cells rather than the more violent bunch. The guards stationed with the “Rowdy” group tended to get chunks taken out of them from time to time when performing tasks as simple as getting the prisoners out of the cells. Ronan didn’t blame the prisoners for fighting back but personally didn’t due to his desire to be around to help others who might not be able to help themselves.

Looking around his eyes locked on a familiar face in the lineup as he pushed his long hair out of his face. With his eyes captured by the girl just down the line from him, he gave her a small good morning smile. Mira had been at the sanctuary far longer than he had and her face had become one he looked forward to seeing each morning during their rollcall. He didn’t vocalize his greeting however and simply left her with a warm smile. It wasn’t that he couldn’t talk to her but rather that he worried speaking could get her in trouble.

BOKEH. BOKEH.

TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 

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