[ one x one; adoraтιon and arabmorgan ]

[adoration]

◤

◥

➳ ➳ 1x1 wιтн adoraтιon and arabmorgan

This war has been going on for a while now; a horrible part of history made up bit by bit with little feuds, and different beliefs. The government had come crashing down long ago-- most people can't even remember what it had been like by now. The word 'peace' and 'equality' now hold no more meaning than a single drop of rain falling down, and have become nothing more but impossible thoughts, too distant to be reached.

All the mayhem started with the government's downfall. Laws were no longer followed, and everything was chaotic. That is, until the wealthy took a step out into the spotlight. They started to become the ones who made regulations in our world, and they were the only ones who could make decisions.
And soon enough, if you weren't wealthy, you were nothing-- just a stray drop of ink on a perfectly clean sheet of paper.

With the new 'leaders', anyone who was poor had to make a decision. They could work for a wealthy family as a slave; a job with 'promised' protection, or they would be exiled from the walls of every city. It was there they would come to meet one of the biggest threats of today's leadership; the Outside.

It's rumored that the Outside is full of inhumanly people; mediocre humans. They're all wrong though. The Outside is full of people who were exiled, and they've started to create establishments of their own-- they now flourish in their own lifestyle. They've never been satisfied with just this, though. They want revenge-- they want to see the wealthy crumbling down.

And so, this war will continue. For passing seconds, the war will continue to grow in size-- and those seconds will easily turn to minutes, then to hours, days, months, and years. Ages, even. No one can escape it; everyone will have their separate part. Whether it's as a wealthy figure, or an exiled outcast.


Maybe even a girl blinded by the secrets each side holds.

Or a boy living his life shrouded in lies, with only forged memories.

◣

◢

[adoration]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
ＣＯ Ｌ Ｅ Ｔ Ｔ Ｅ Ｊ Ｓ Ｙ Ｌ Ｖ Ｅ Ｓ Ｔ Ｒ Ｅ
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

◤

◥

cxcxcxＷｈａｔ Ｍｏｓｔ Ｋｎｏｗ

F u l l N a m e // Colette Jolie Sylvestre. { Ko-let, Joh-lee, Sil-ves-tre. }
K n o w n A s // 'Project AX'. This is what strangers and most wealthy people will usually call her, seeing it's the label she was given while being used as an experiment.
N i c k n a m e // When she was young, her father, along with some close friends, use to call her Collie, Ellie, or Ell, since the brunette always used to complain about her name. These two nicknames kind of wore off as she grew older and started to grow fond of her name, but a few people still have a tendency to adress her using one of the three.
A g e // Seventeen and a half. Her birthday is April 21st.
G e n d e r // Female, of course.
P o w e r // Upon eye contact with someone, Colette can literally flip through their memories. She barely has control over it, and sometimes, it'll happen involuntarily whenever she's looking at someone. The wealthy saw this as their chance to get information out of people-- such as, they can find anyone who's a spy, or capture an exiled and learn about their plans through their memories. However, as Colette's eyes failed, so did her ability. Now blind though, she can sometimes see just the briefest flash of someone's memories-- that is, upon contact. She has no idea of this for now, seeing as it's a further evolution with her abilities.

◣

◢

Ｗｈａｔ Ａ Ｂｌｉｎｄ Ｍａｎ Ｃａｎｎｏｔ Ｓｅｅcxcxcx

H a i r C o l o r // A dark, chocolate brown, with dim blonde highlights.
People will often describe her as a dirty brunette.
Z o d i a c S i g n // Taurus.
H e i g h t // 5'6
W e i g h t // 108 lbs.
B l o o d T y p e // O
E y e s // Colette's eyes are a hazy, winter blue, with specks of gold lining the iris.

Colette, in all truth, has a small build. Most people will take one glance at her and wonder how she's still alive, with all the tests she's gone through. She has an hourglass figure, along with a medium bust, but most of her facial and body details are petite. They look almost fragile, in a way, probably from her poor upbringing, which consisted of many years of under eating.
With a fair, milky skin color-- that has just the smallest rosy pink tint to it --Colette's hair falls down to around her hips; more than half a foot below her shoulder blades. She used to wear it down practically everyday, until she became one of them wealthy people. People told her that she had to look nice and elegant enough to broadcast all around the world. Though she never saw a reason behind this-- considering she's a mere tool to them --she never thought much about it, but she did oblige by the regulations she was given.
Freckles line her cheekbone, and though she often hides it, there is a small three-pointed scar behind her left ear-- which had been the main testing place for administering her abilities. When she feels threatened, she'll often cover it with a hand. On her right thigh, she also has a small birthmark.

◤

◥

cxcxcxＷｈａｔ Ｗｏｒｄｓ Ｃａｎｎｏｔ Ｅｘｐｒｅｓｓ

A lot of stuff can really change over life. It's a simple fact that everyone has to cruelly learn to bear in their life. Colette, on one hand, practically has this written on every inch of her body, both mentally and physically-- it might as well just be carved into her forehead.

She used to be one of those people who'd find the smallest and simplest joys in life, and turn them into flourishing fireworks. She was quiet when told to, while she'd speak to anyone that was willing to listen. As a young girl, if she found a stray dandelion, she'd carry it around with her for days until it wilted. If a person complimented her, she'd make it her goal to pass on a compliment to twenty other people. She was one of those people who's name would be mentioned, and then at least one smile would manage to slip up onto someone's face. This is only how she thought one lived in her first few years of life. Some people now look back at her old self, and they only see nothing but the hollow silhouette of a girl blind to the dark truth of the world.

cxcxＷｅ ａｒｅ ｍａｄｅ ｏｆ ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ.cxcxcx





During childbirth, her mother died from a horrible sickness, which she caught from the bad conditions she had lived in. Her parents had both been poor their whole lives, and they had learned to deal with it. They had learned the rules and regulations they had to live by, and they knew very well of the horrible punishments that would come if they didn't. When Colette's mother died though, her father became completely devastated, though he hid it from his new daughter.

If you ever asked her about her memories, most of Colette's childhood memories spin around her father. Though he had to work daily as a slave, he always tried to make time for his daughter. It was tough for him-- raising a child alone while constantly having to work. Somehow though, he managed it all. And Colette hadn't minded that he had to work, she knew at a young age how much trouble he went through to support their small family of two. What she didn't understand, however, was the fact that depression was slowly eating away at him, after his wife's death.

At the age of seven, Colette started to work as well. It was a troublesome task, but she always struggled to look at the bright side of it-- she could finally help her father in a way she couldn't before. She was always being pushed down, having to stay standing in the middle of a waging battlefield with insults and abuse flying both ways over head. It was from this point on that she started to understand more of the world she had been cursed to live in.

Two months after her thirteenth birthday though, something she had never expected happened. While at his work, there was a terrible accident, and her father's spine was practically shattered. He almost died, but he somehow managed to live. He became paralyzed though, and couldn't work any longer. All the weight of the two's life was then piled up onto Colette's shoulders. Somehow, she had to support both herself and him. Alone, this time.

She tried, and when she failed, she tried again. It was a continuous cycle, but it soon came with an end. The family she worked for filed a complaint, and it was scheduled that her and her father would be exiled to the Outside. Her father was of no use, and Colette alone couldn't do too much. They were just another two monotone people with their own troubles to the people around them.

Knowing that they would both die in the Outside-- at least, thinking it -- her desperation grew. As it grew though, her discouragement did as well. Nothing she could do would be able to save them. She would be exiled to the Outside, her father wouldn't be able to move properly and would die, and she'd be alone. This time, completely alone.
Luckily, she managed to get her chance.

Having overheard about the new experiments the wealthy were funding for the war, she volunteered to be a subject of testing at age fifteen. It was said that any volunteers were promised riches and fortune, but they never mentioned the rising death count over time. Information was leaked though, and people started to become reluctant to volunteer, but Colette pushed the thought aside. A life for a life-- her life for her father's. If she lived, then they'd become wealthy. Her father would be able to surgically get his spine fixed, maybe even get a manmade one implanted in his back-- something she never could of dreamed of only two years ago.

This, became the birth of the 'perfect' project. 'Project AX,' they called her. She was the first test subject to lived and be a success. And, like they had said, the luck of her family turned around as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
Just, not for her.


Ａ ｓｔｏｒｙ ｈａｓ ｉｔ'ｓ ｒｅａｓｏｎｉｎｇ.cxcxcx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
cxcxＡ ｐｅｒｓｏｎ ｈａｓ ｔｈｅｉｒ ｓｅｃｒｅｔｓ.



Colette doesn't enjoy thinking about her past, but she doesn't ignore it. It would be pointless to anyways. It changed her too much, even if there are remnants of her old self. She still finds enjoyment in little things; maybe a fleeting bird, or a single word spoken out in the silence. And, in a way, she does wear her heart out on her sleeve. If she has the chance, she'll help someone else, even if it's only in the smallest way. She's content with this-- even though she's a tad bit too selfless.

And, even if she's blind, society is blind to her as well. There are parts of her that they don't see, for there are the traits of hers that have been 'suppressed,' in other words. Most people only see her for the facade she's required to put up; only speak when spoken to, also listen with your eyes and watch with your ears, don't argue with anyone else. Anyone that's ever actually spoken to her often in person though will know that she's an adamant, strong-willed girl. She'll refuse to think about herself, when others around her are in more need. She'll be stubborn, and when she gets her mind set on something, she's going to do it. One way or another.

This doesn't smudge one fact though; she does have a tendency to hide her feelings-- even the most beautiful ones. Though she has eyes made of shooting stars, and a smile that's better than the first blossom of April, she also has her own sorrows and miseries that drag her down. She's truly like a maze, both on the inside and outside. And it can be clear that once you get lost there, you might never find your way out.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ｓｈｅ'ｓ ｗａｉｔｉｎｇ ｆｏｒ ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ

ｗｈｏ ｗｉｌｌ ｎｅｖｅｒ ｆｉｎｄ ｔｈｅｉｒ ｗａｙ ｏｕｔ

ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｔｈｅｙ ｄｏｎ'ｔ ｅｖｅｒ ｗａｎｔ ｔｏ.

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

◣

◢

Ａｌｌ ｔｈａｔ ｔｏｐｓ ｉｔ ｏｆｆcxcxcx

-- Working on --

ＣＯＬＥＴＴＥ

Code: Select all

[right][center][color=#79A888][size=160]┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓[/size][/color]
[b]ＣＯ Ｌ Ｅ Ｔ Ｔ Ｅ  [color=#79A888]Ｊ[/color]  Ｓ Ｙ Ｌ Ｖ Ｅ Ｓ Ｔ Ｒ Ｅ[/b]
[color=#79A888][size=160]┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛[/size][/color][/center][/right]


[color=transparent]cxcx[/color][color=#79A888][size=85]Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｍａｄｅ ｏｆ ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.[/size][/color]
[b][size=140][color=#79A888]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=gray]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=#79A888]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=gray]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=#79A888]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][/size][/b]

[list][list][size=85]------------------[/size][/list][/list]


[b][size=140][color=#79A888]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=gray]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=#79A888]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=gray]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][color=#79A888]━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][/size][/b]
[right][color=#79A888][size=85]Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ.[/size][/color][color=transparent]cxcxcx[/color][/right]

[arabmorgan]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━┓
ｃｌａｒｅｎｃｅ
ａｌｅｘａｎｄｅｒ
ｎｅｗｔｏｎ
┗━━━━━━━━━━━┛

gender: male

age: 18 years

height: 5'10

weight: 156 pounds

hair: medium brown and wavy

eyes: hazel

family: parents and younger sister deceased

love life: one previous, short-lived relationship with a city girl, which was cut short when his family left for the Outside

ʜᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ.

clarence alexander newton doesn't know much about himself nowadays. he still remembers things though, just not the important stuff - that he hates the name clarence with a passion, that he loves to watch the stars when the moon is high and the night is silent, that he is terrified of being alone, that he wouldn't mind if the world was blown to pieces. he always introduces himself as alex, because that's what he wants to be called. he knows he is reckless but not fearless, cruel but not heartless, an enigma even to himself. his family isn't wholly a mystery to him, and sometimes flashes of past moments will surprise him out of nowhere - slamming the door on his parents' shocked faces, tickling his giggling sister as if she were still 9, screams of pain, his father's face tight with fear. this is what he knows.

but this much he has forgotten too - that he wasn't always tense and aggressive, that he's been reckless his whole life but also fun-loving, that he used to laugh at the drop of a hat, that he had friends, that the nearest city will be as familiar to him as the back of his hand. alex loved daredevil stunts and running out in the open, he was fond of adorable furry animals but less so of things that crawled or slithered, he had a girl that he'd been seeing for a few months whom he adored, he liked chocolate but hated anything to do with tomatoes. most of all, he loved life. that was before, before he listened to his parents talk of the inequality inside the city and out, before he agreed that they should help to champion the rights of those Outside, before he bid farewell to the city girl with whispered promises and held-back tears.

he hasn't changed as much as he thinks, though. he's still terrible at making plans, with a strong streak of pride in him that causes him to anger easily. he simmers when he's in a bad mood, although his moods rarely last long. he's about as stubborn and immovable as a mountain, although he prefers to think of it as standing up for himself. just like before, he's still insecure and dissatisfied with his lanky physique; it simply refuses to bulk up despite the hardships he's been through and the strict training regiments he imposed on himself in the city. buried deep within, an innate value that he's barely conscious of, is his kindness; it is all that keeps him sane and stops those unspeakable acts he otherwise might have committed now that he cares for nothing and no one. as instinctive and reckless as he is, one thing alex isn't is a dreamer, never was one and never will be - he lives in the moment, considering hard facts and practicalities, thoughtless of his future, just following his instincts.

in all honesty, he is torn between his desire to remember and his fear of his memories. he doesn't know what to make of his emotions, but he is sure they're brought about by something truly terrible, memories that he has repressed for a reason. the constant undercurrent of confusing anger and resentment towards both the exiles and the wealthy that plagues him is a puzzle with missing pieces that he can't find. it frustrates him to no end when he searches for answers and explanations but can find none; it is infinitely frightening to be betrayed by your own mind. for now, he is trusting his subconscious and he will see society fall, with the help of none other than their only successful experiment, who holds the secrets of destruction in her damaged eyes.

Code: Select all

[list][color=#6800BD]ｈｅ ｉｓ ｊｕｓｔ [size=150][b]ａｌｅｘ[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#72A8A7][size=125]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/size][/color]

[size=85][color=#808080]text here m'dear.[/list][/size][/color]

[right][color=#72A8A7][size=125]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/size][/color]
[color=#6800BD]ｌｏｓｔ ｉｎ ｈｉｓ ｏｗｎ ｍｉｎｄ.[/color][/right]

[adoration]

{ Sorry if Colette's history/personality/etc. is rather long. I got a tad bit carried away with it. ^^; I'm almost done now, though-- I just got to add a few last touches, and then I'll be completely finished. }

[arabmorgan]

{ hooray, i think i'm kinda done too! even though my form pales sadly in comparison to yours xD your form was lovely to read, by the way, love the way you write c: }

[adoration]

{ Ah, well then, we can probably start soon! c: Maybe even now. And thanks-- most of her history I was writing while I was kind of in a rush, so it's not my greatest work. I did try to think it out a lot though, because I kept thinking that there had to be a reason behind her becoming an experiment. I didn't want her to just have been one of those people who was just chosen as one.
Anyways, you're form doesn't pale at all! I, personally, just have trouble fitting some things down into smaller proportions; it's a good skill, and one I just a skill I lack.

Anyways, are you ready to start, or do you think you'll need some more time? I'm ready, since the only things I really have to finish is just small, little things, besides for her power-- which I'm adding right now. }

[arabmorgan]

{ sure! would you mind making the starting post? and i'll reply once i'm done with some of my work c: it can be directly before the attack or as it's starting. }

[adoration]

{ Sure. c: It might take me a bit to get it up though, since I'm also finishing up some work of my own. I should be done in a bit, so it won't take me too long. }

[adoration]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
ＣＯ Ｌ Ｅ Ｔ Ｔ Ｅ Ｊ Ｓ Ｙ Ｌ Ｖ Ｅ Ｓ Ｔ Ｒ Ｅ
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

cxcxＷｅ ａｒｅ ｍａｄｅ ｏｆ ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ.cxcxcx

She had been living in darkness for quite a while now.
This wasn't the first time.

'The Outside isn't as bad as it's said to be,' was a mere scratched out thought in Colette's mind now. Then again, 'the Outside is horrid' hadn't ever been much of a thought in her head of hers either. There had only ever been 'survive', 'her father', and anything of the sort. And if surviving and her father somehow was tied in with the Outside, so be it. It'd cross her mind then, but maybe not ever again.

Keeping her from seeing was a blindfold, neatly tied under her chocolate brown hair and completely covering her eyes. She was just glad they hadn't completely removed her eyes by now. Oh, what an abhorrent thought. They had already snagged her away from the walls of the city-- her home --so anything more would just be outrageous. Though, she already knew they were going to do more. She knew the intent of their plans, from the whispers that leaked in through the walls as she lie practically motionless on the dull mattress of the bed in the room she was kept in.

She was their key to revenge-- nothing more, nothing less. Like an amazing weapon that they had to steal and claim their own.
Did they ever even realize that she was also a human herself? Or was she just a blade for war through their eyes?

If only she didn't have to constantly wear this blindfold on her eyes. If she didn't, she would've already been able to understand why they were doing this, through memories piled up one by one in the back of their minds. She could only guess that she'd never be able to look an exiled in the eye though. They were cautious-- too cautious, almost.

Rolling over onto her side, her hair shifted and flowed out behind her in cascading waves. Everything in her sight stayed the same; an infinite black playing field. It was the same as if having her eyes constantly closed. Yet, she kept them open under the piece of cloth. For sometimes, when light leaked into the room, she could tell. The cloth would lighten up just the slightest, and sometimes milky rays of light would seep in under a stray fold.
Had she ever considered light so beautiful in her life? No-- it had just been something merely took for granted. Now, for once, it was actually one of the things she missed.

Constantly, in a continuous cycle, she'd start flipping through her memories over and over again when she found nothing else to do. Or she'd run her hand along the wall, feeling every single crack and crescent. Had she ever been this bored in her life? Or, was it more out of fright than boredom?

This was only the inevitable though. From the moment she had volunteered to be a test subject, the chances of her being kidnapped by exiled people from the Outside became bigger as ever. Did she regret it though? In a way, she didn't. Her father would've been dead by now if she hadn't done what she had-- she probably would've been as well.
And she knew this would've probably come to happening. She just hadn't ever imagined it. Hadn't ever lived through it.

So, she lived on silent in the darkness consuming her, feigning boredom to hide fear.
This wouldn't be the last time.

[arabmorgan]

ｈｅ ｉｓ ｊｕｓｔ ａｌｅｘ
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He'd only awoken mere days ago, the grains of sand gritty in his mouth and his head throbbing almost unbearably. He had been disoriented at first, blinking his dirt-crusted eyes open slowly against the pale morning sun and taking in his surroundings with the complete bewilderment of one who used to be blind, yet had his sight restored to him without his knowledge. His muscles ached terribly, and it was all he could do to push himself into a sitting position before he doubled over, retching in the sand. The panic only descended when he discovered the multitude of bruises and cuts on his body, but had no idea where he'd gotten them.

Who am I? Where am I? What-

He cut himself off abruptly, trying to calm his panicked breaths as a trickle of knowledge flitted to the forefront of his mind. Alex. His name was Alex. Clarence Alexander Newton. And so it slowly came back to him over the hours he spent at the spot where he had awoken, but in the end what he knew was meagre and impersonal. Fighting down his rising fear, he pushed himself up, gritting his teeth at the burst of pain in his legs and head and taking a moment to steady himself.

Luck had been on his side that day, for he had found a tiny stream with a berry bush not far off, its roots surely drinking thirstily from the quietly running water just as he was. He had eaten a few berries, heedless as to whether they were poisonous, but mindful that this might be his only food supply. It took three days for the memory to return to him - the girl, the experiment, the one with the power. He had helped to capture her, that he remembered, before...something had happened. Something that had left him in this state.

He clung to this knowledge, this little bit that he knew, and decided that perhaps she could help him. She must help him, not with his memories, but to destroy the exiles and throw down the wealthy. He didn't really know why, even though he spent a long hour musing over it, but he knew that the two factions had somehow caused this. They would ruin the world if he didn't stop them. They had done something bad to him and his loved ones, something. Hazy images of three other people floated just out of reach, their happy laughter taunting him, yet he loved them.

He didn't have a concrete plan of any sort, it seemed a waste of time to him. Instead, he set off immediately, his feet somehow knowing the way. When he reached the camp of the exiles, darkness shrouded the land, interspersed here and there by various watchfires and lanterns in the camp. He hesitated, not remembering where the girl was kept, or had he never known? His eyes travelled across the barren landscape, his eyes widening slightly at the curious dark shadow some distance from the camp. The faint rumble grew louder as the shadow approached, coalescing into a mass of men who made no effort to hide their presence. The city soldiers! They're here to retrieve her. He knew immediately that it was time, thathe had one chance to make it in and out, and there was no margin for failure.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ｌｏｓｔ ｉｎ ｈｉｓ ｏｗｎ ｍｉｎｄ.