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[paradox.]

Name:
Julian Larson
Gender:
"Male duh"
Age:
24
Birth Date:
"May 29"
Sexual Preference:
"I'm straight"
Race:
"Aussie with a little bit of British in me"



-Eye Color:
A murky gray blue color.
-Hair Color:
A fine oak brown
-Hair Style:
"My hair is kept short-ish, only just reaching my ears. I have bangs in front that I grew out for no reason other than it looks cool."
-Height:
"I'm not exactly short. I'm basically 6'0"
-Weight:
''Ha 170 lbs."
-Other Features:
"Nothing really"
Overall Appearance:
Julian looks skinnier than he weighs, being 170 pounds but looking like a twig. He is lithe and slender and doesn't really look at all like a body builder. He has a pale complexion with startling murky gray-blue colored eyes that seem somewhat foggy when in light. His hair is kept similar to a mop with oak brown locks reaching down to his ears. He has side bangs the go to the right and a charming smile that makes you want to trust him even if he can't be trusted.


Crush :
Eh.
Girlfriend :
Nope
Fiancee :
None.
Wife :
Ha. Please


Occupation:
Secret Police/ Teacher
Likes:
Being alone, taking walks, being the secret police, "peace", kids, Chocolate milk, Italian food, poison, Chinese food, take out, reading.
Dislikes:
killing people, disobedient people, annoying things, bugs, blood, dark chocolate, laziness, boredom.
Strengths:
He is good at following orders and prefers being a follower more than a leader. However he is good with kids, an unimportant factor in his true job. Thus he is a master at poisons. He is also good at tracking, knowing how to follow a lead to get where he wants. He isn't above doing something cruel to get what he needs and doesn't break easily under pressure.
Weaknesses:
Julian, though good at killing people quickly, hates the sight of blood. Thus why he uses poisons. He also isn't that physically strong and probably his best physical activity would be running.
Personality:
Julian has a difficult personality to describe. It is more like he has two of them actually. His first or outer personality is the one he uses when he tries to blend in with regular people. In other words its his fake one. His inner or second personality is one used with colleagues where he becomes the cold and cynical boy that listens to orders. Though this one can also somewhat be considered partially fake as it isn't what he really is.
Julian's outer personality is of course the happy, outgoing, fun boy that most people see. He is fairly social and hardly gets into fights. He dislikes violence and didn't seem like a guy who could do anything bad. He's intelligent and not afraid to add his input and while people may fight to get their ideas across Julian seems like the kind of guy who can just charismatically tell you how his point is right and how yours is horribly wrong.
Julian's inner personality is where his mostly true colors show. He keeps mostly to himself, being a loner and not talking to people most of the time. Julian prefers the company of himself to other people and can be rather rude and obnoxious when it comes to it. He is obedient and a bit of a kiss up to the higher ups but when its someone on his level be prepared for him to be a brat. Julian dislikes losing or not getting what he wants. He also can be very sarcastic and is of course a bit cynical. Julian is known for being a sneak. He is a master at getting close to people and then stabbing them in the back if he wanted. He has a short temper and can be known to blow up when he gets mad.
Julian prefers being active above all things. He hates being bored and must always be doing something. He has an aversion to the sight of blood so therefore he uses killing methods that completely avoids blood such as poison or strangling though he prefers to leave no traces behind. He is somewhat of a master at tracking, using his intelligence to follow leads or get close to the enemy. His charm is useful then because it's easier to get closer to a person and then kill them so no one suspects you. Julian also likes reading which can put him at a risk because the government does not like books or writers or rather anything creative. This is why he has a secret room in his house stacked to the ceiling with books he had. No one knows about it and he sometimes goes there to just relax and get away from all the world.
Julian's basically a nice little pawn. He knows some of the secret police members try to somehow let their targets escape but he's too apathetic to even try that. Not when the government has his family under their foot and is threatening to make them disappear if he does mess up. This is why he's one of the best hit mans. He. Never. Loses. A. Target. Unless of course it just so happened that the target found he was secret police and fled. But he would look for him until he was sure he was gone from the city. Then he would leave it to someone else in a different city to take care of him.
History/Background:
"I was born in the land down under. In other words, Australia. Then I moved to this place. I grew up here and soon I was recruited by the government to become a secret policeman. Honestly I didn't particularly care for the job at first but I grew and I did hard training. I was trained to follow my orders no matter what and to believe in my government. Basically I'm a pawn but it doesn't really matter to me."
"My first ever mission was to track down a government official. The said man was suspected of selling secrets of the country under the table. So I followed him. I grew close to him, became someone he sold the secrets to. Honestly he never suspected a thing but when I told the higher ups what he was doing I had to carry out the second part of my mission. Kill him. I always did hate the sight of blood so instead of using that I used a needle tipped with poison. I went in for the handshake, the needle, barely able to be caught by the human eye, was hidden in my sleeve. I watched him die a few minutes later and slipped out the back door.
Since then I've been doing the dirty work of the underground police. By day I'm the cool teacher who the kids love to chat with or talk to and by night I'm basically an policeman."
Other:
Not so much ^.^

[Panic!]

Full Name: Isabella Clark
Preferred Name:"Just call me Bella."
Age:24
Gender:Female
Date of Birth: September 10
Measurements:5 Ft. 6 In. and 135 pounds
Scars: On her leg when she was bit by a dog
Modifications:Pierced ears
Citizen


Look into my eyes, and you'll see the secrets I couldn't find a way to hide.
There are a few words to describe this girl: Unpredictable,Stupid and trustworthy. I guess I should go through every word for you, so you know what you are getting into. The basics? She is out going, and she loves to laugh. She loves to try new things, go out and have fun, and hang out with her friends. She is just the average teenager. One thing about her is that she loves a good scare every now and then. She is good nature, she doesn't really have a mean bone in her body. She is playful and loving,much like a dog... One thing about her is that she has a certain charm about her that makes people smile. She is open and friendly, just waiting for someone new to make friends with. Though she is outgoing and kind, she is competitive. Meaning, she tries to be the best at whatever she does, and often tries to be "perfect" whatever that is now a days.

Unpredictable. She doesn't tend to make up her mind very easily, and she likes to keep people on their toes. By this, she means she will do the most random things, say off topic things, and do the complete opposite everyone else is doing. She doesn't tend to fall into peer pressure easily, but she has a few weaknesses. She isn't perfect, far from it, and she can be gullible and stupid all at the same time. She tends to like to do her own thing, and sometimes her judgement isn't always that great. She has made good and bad choices, all that she needs to live with. She isn't afraid to face up to the consequences and face the music. She takes responsibility and is always willing to take the first step out of her comfort zone. Call her a daredevil.

Stupid. Yes, she is stupid. She has made bad choices, done wrong things, but everyone has. So does that mean everyone is stupid? Possibly. She has the book smarts, without a doubt she does, just when it comes to street smarts, she is lacking intelligence. She knows a few safety rules that might help her, like stop drop and roll; no hitch hiking; and don't smoke. But she is one of those people who when they see someone who needs help, she goes off and helps them, no matter what. She isn't a huge fan of violence, though she is willing to do whatever it takes in self protection.

Trustworthy. One thing about her is that she hates liars. She can't stand them, and refuses to lie to anyone else. She doesn't try hard to be like everyone else because she feels that if everyone was the same, well wouldn't that world be boring? She doesn't mind being different, and she doesn't care what everyone else thinks. They can gossip, though she hates that too, and they can try to stop her from being who she is. It's not going to stop her, and it's not going to change her. She only wants the people she loves to be honest with her, no matter how much it hurts. She always tries her best to return the favor, though it becomes hard for her to hurt someone she cares deeply about. But, the truth always gets out one way or another, and she doesn't want to get in trouble for other people's mistakes.

Some more general things about her? Sure, why not? She isn't very athletic, sometimes she might go for a run or something in the mornings, but that's about as athletic as she gets. She doesn't have a gym membership, and she doesn't spend hours working to do 100 push ups. She is still fit and healthy though, and she has a nice body, but she doesn't go crazy with fitness. The only sports she did as a child was soccer and track, which she was fantastic in, though quit for special reasons of her own. Another thing is that she loves animals with all her heart. She just always wants to help them, or hold them. This didn't really help her though when she got bit by a dog. She still hasn't really learned her lesson from that day.

My Secret Talent: She is great at reading people. She can usually tell what people are thinking just by their body movements. No, she doesn't exactly know what they are thinking, mind reading abilities are to be saved for the movies. She can get a general idea though, like if someone is sad, even if they are trying to hide it. No, she isn't magical or a witch of some sort, she is just observant.

Likes Bella enjoys music. She is mostly a singer, though she doesn't like to sing in front of others. Maybe she is just to shy, or maybe she just isn't that good. She also loves animals, and hates to see them in pain. She hates that more than seeing people in pain, which sounds really sad, but that's just the way she feels. She also enjoys reading, though she seems to be short on time now a days, so she doesn't get that much time to do that.

Dislikes She hates hates hates bugs. She finds them very annoying to be near. Like bugs, she doesn't really enjoy people who live vain and self centered. Also people who insult her family and friends, she can hold a grudge forever on. She just doesn't tolerate it, and she isn't afraid to fight back. If people make fun of her, she is fine with that, but she doesn't want anyone touching her family or friends. She isn't a fighter, but she will defend herself and the ones she loves to the end of the world.


Short History When Isabella was about three, her mother died of a heart attack. Save your sympathy though, she never really knew her mother. She can remember sitting in the hospital though, playing with dolls without any idea about what was really going on. Nurses kept coming over to her, asking if they could get her anything. She turned them away, and waited for her father to return to get her. When he came out, he was in tears and couldn't even look at his daughter. The doctor came out a few minutes later, and explained to Bella what had happened.

"Bella, your mom... she won't be coming back for a very long time," he explained.

"What do you mean, doc," she asked, half paying attention, the other half on her dolls. She watched as she made them walk around and communicate with each other.

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how to explain to the three year old her mother was dead and never coming back. "Sweetie," he said, finally getting her attention. She enjoyed when people called her that, it made her think of sweet things. Continuing he sighed and said,"You'll see her when you are much much older."

She asked, "When I'm grandma's age?"

Biting his lip, the doctor said,"Sure...When you are grandma's age."

She nodded and continued to play with her dolls until her father picked her up again to take her back home.

A few years later, she had finally understood what the conversation was about when she was just a girl of 3. Her mother was dead. She couldn't force herself to cry though, she didn't know anything. She was just as naive as before. Her father was still a loving man, though he was often out working, raising her and her older brother on his own. She missed her father, but she understood why he was never home. She didn't try to question it, and she often left the house. She couldn't stay in the house her mother had worked so hard to make her own before it was violently taken away from her. The only thing Bella has of her mom is her wedding ring, which she wears as a necklace 24/7.

Her father never remarried, never even looked at another women. He had just enough room for his son and daughter, and the empty space that he kept empty for his true love. They moved here, from their hometown of London, for a job opportunity in the city. Bella mostly kept to herself, spending much of her time at the beach and exploring the forest. She enjoyed exploring, getting lost and trying to find her way out. It was a thriller. It wasn't until she was a young lady of 15 when she had found a small house in the woods. It was sort of like her hide away, and escape from the rest of the world. It wasn't until there was a weak knock at the door. When she opened it, unsure about what she was going to find, she saw a lady in her late sixties holding a child who looked no more than two years old.

The lady explained how the police had come after her, due to violation of the laws. She had to run quickly with only her daughter's child and the close on her back. She hesitated to tell Bella about how her daughter was being held in a prison cell. Bella tried to make them well, giving them the only food she had packed on her long expedition from her house. She told them they could stay there for as long as they needed, and she eventually went back to her house. She never really realized how dangerous the government really was, keeping secrets behind the people's backs, arresting and possibly killing innocent ones. She mainly just worried about herself, and if it wasn't her, she was fine with it. Maybe that was the problem though. She mainly kept this all to herself, not even telling her father about the strangers in the woods, but when she went back to the little house, the strangers were gone with no trace of where they went. Worried, yet not to much to be worried about herself, she forgot about them quickly and went back to her old ways.



Appearance Isabella has light blond hair that only gets lighter in the sunlight. Naturally, they curl around her shoulders, framing her face. She has a narrow nose and cotton candy pink lips. Across the front of her cheeks, she faint freckles, mostly from the time she spends out in the sun. She has light blue eyes that glitter in the sun. If you look closely, she has different shades of lighter and darker blue, mixing together to create the color you see. Moving down, her body isn't that muscular, and to be honest, she isn't that strong. She is thin and pale, making her seem unhealthy, though she seems to be in good health. She isn't that upset about her over all appearance. She isn't trying to change herself, and she is actually pretty happy with herself right now.


My heart is like my soul. It flies just out of reach. Bella is straight, no doubt about that. If you really want to know the truth, she's never really had a serious relationship. Of course, there was always the little joking around, flirt here, kiss there kind of relationship, but nothing all to exciting and nothing going beyond a peak on the lips. Maybe she is old fashion, but she sees no reason to sell herself away to boy who wont mean anything to her in a couple of years. When it comes to her heart, she treats it with delicacy and tenderness. God only knows what would happen if it breaks... Though she doesn't enjoy being alone, she has gotten used to the idea of being alone romantically, though of course, she is keeping her heart open and her eyes on the look out. Maybe there will be one out there who tickles her fancy, though she is doubtful at times.

[~Erica~]

It happens in a blink.

I claim no rights to this image.

Username:: ~Erica~ Name:: In Greek:: Age:: Gender:: Birthday:: Nationality:: Occupation::
"Oh, so you want to know about me? Well, I do suppose I am an interesting character. Alright, if it's for some silly scientific advancement I guess I can talk about myself. My name is Zoe Elysia Silver, I'm half Greek and half American. What, you think Zoe isn't a real Greek name? Pfft, shows how much you know, I can say it Greek to prove it Ζωή Ἠλύσια Aσήμι. See. Anyways, I am a twenty three year old woman, born on April first {seriously, no joke}. What's my occupation? Well I'm a scientist of sorts, I help do research on the mind, but I'm just a normal citizen. Now I suppose you want to meet Erika to right? Oh, they didn't tell you? I have DID, you know dissociation identity disorder. Still nothing? I have two personalities you nitwit, but I stay in control most of the time, Erika's the weak one. I hate being a science project, oh well, at least I get to live. Alright here she is."
"W-what the heck? Oh, was... was that Zoe talking to you before. Look I'm not going to talk about myself, I just have a voice in my head named Zoe, she likes to take over most of the time and that's fine with me okay? I don't want to be some silly science project, it hurts. You... you're not going to hurt me... r-right? No? O-okay then. Um, I'm Erika Adriana Silver, I'm twenty three a-and a girl. I was born on March third... oh, no she tells me it's April first."
"Uh, okay, that's it I can't stand Erika."



Hair Color:: Ebony black.
Eye Color:: A sea blueish-green.
Skin Tone:: Well tanned.
Height:: One meter seventy five cm. (five foot nine)
Weight:: Fifty six kgs (One-hundred and twenty four pounds)
Body Modifications:: Her ears are pierced, once in each lobe and once up in the cartilage on her left ear.
Overall Description::
Zoe is a tall girl, standing a few inches above the average height of most girls she knows. She's of a medium build with less pronounced curves than most girls. Her chest leaves a little to be desired, though a lot of it is just because of the type of clothing she wears. Zoe has long legs, and though they look gangly and ungainly she retains an image of elegance. With her long, pronounced neck and perfectly straight posture, she holds herself in a way that gives a sense of control and poise most people tend to lack. She's stayed fit and toned all her life, so she looks agile and ready to move as well. Part of it is to make up for her strange personality disorder. As if to show it hasn't affected her at all.
Zoe's face is sharper than most, with a straight cut nose and pronounced chin giving her an angular look. She has high cheek bones, and thin, arched brows giving her an aristocratic feel. Her proud, rose petal colored lips are set firmly in her face, with the bottom lip a little fuller than the top. She has a clear completion with darkly tanned skin from being outside for long periods of time. Her eyes are a pretty sea green that seem to change to a more bluish color in the right light, and framed by thin but dark lashes.
Zoe's hair is straight for the most part, with just a small amount of wave in it near the ends of her hair. She has it cut in layers so it sits nicer on her head, and frames her face better. Her hair is long falling to the middle of her back, and usually left down. Her hair stays parted on the left and she has side bangs that sweep carelessly across her face, often obscuring her right eye from view.
Zoe also wears contacts, but that's during the day so if you catch her at night she'll be wearing glasses.





Personality:: Zoe is self-confident, strong, and assertive. Protective, resourceful, straight-talking, and decisive, but she can also be ego-centric and bossy. She feels she must control her environment, especially people, sometimes becoming confrontational and intimidating. She typically has problems with her temper and with allowing herself to be vulnerable. She feels she can’t be see as weak, so she never shows her tears, only anger. At her best Zoe can be self- mastering, she uses her strength to her benefit and sometimes others.
Zoe loves to be independent, making her own decisions and directing her own course. She doesn’t like to take orders from other people, and often times will play the devils advocate if some tries to. She sees herself as assertive, decisive and resourceful. Her idealized image is that she is protective and powerful. She is charismatic and exudes confidence; her poise and elegance give her an image worth following. She has a take-charge, no nonsense, can do attitude.
She has great pride in her ability to face, endure and overcome adversity, believing that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Her assertive stance and imposing presence make her a ‘force of nature’. She’ll never back down or give up on something she wants and will work until she achieves it. Zoe likes challenges and usually overcomes the kinds of obstacles that limit or deter others. She has a lust for life and wants to experience everything to the fullest. She believes that ‘too much of a good thing is almost enough’.
Zoe won't suffer fools gladly. People are occasionally intimidated by her and have a tendency to misinterpret her direct manner as insensitivity. Sometimes it is, but more often that not she just doesn't realize what she's saying can be taken in the wrong way. Her blunt manner can be very upsetting to people with more delicate feelings.
Behind her tough exterior Zoe is gentle, playful, childlike and innocent. Always one to laugh, she can see the humor even in the most painful and difficult of circumstances. She is also unusually devoted to and protective of those in her ‘inner circle,’ often secretly going without so that others will have what they need.
She’s also very sarcastic and has what she likes to call rapier wit, always ready with a derisive comment. Around her friends they are meant as teasing and playful rather than harmful. She’s also very impish and loves to make trouble. She’ll steal anything she think she can get out from under someone’s nose, but she always returns it. Usually. She'll play pranks on people she knows well, hiding their possessions or switching things around. It's all done in jest but it tends to get on a lot of people's nerves.
Despite this Zoe has a side of her that is fun loving and playful. She's always happy to laugh at a joke, and smile at something funny.
~~~~~~~~~~
Erika is very accepting of people and won't try to change them or force her ideals onto them. She's creative and loves art of all sorts as well as photography. She's always optimistic and is a 'glass half full' type of person, looking at the bright side in every situation. She's supportive of people but can be too willing to go along with others to keep the peace. She likes it when everything goes smoothly without conflict and tends to be complacent, minimizing problems. She has trouble with stubbornness and getting things finished up.
She's able to bring people together and heal conflict and arguments. Erika is considerate and gentle, has an innate ability to make people feel comfortable and at ease. She is very accepting and will readily empathize with others. She's very romantic just about life in general. She's dedicated to people particularly those she's close to. Erika can get way to focused on other people and their well being, often loosing sight of what she wants for herself. She'll give up her own agenda to accommodate others particularly her friends and family.
Erika is far more intellectual than she lets on, and has a natural gift for seeing many different points of view. She is able to see all the shades of gray in any situation and is good a solving conflict by remaining clam and steady through out everything. She focuses on people's similarities rather than differences and makes an excellent mediator. She doesn't want to be drawn into conflict and prefers avoid being pressured to react. She's passive aggressive and rarely expresses her anger in a physical way.
Erika repress her anger and neglects her needs in order to avoid conflict and causing problem for other people. She likes to loose herself in busy work, and has trouble focusing on a specific goal for herself. Erika struggles to find her one true passion. Erika is the 'strong, silent type' and has the power of patience, persistence and resistance. She sees herself as having stamina and takes pride in her ability to endure.
But when she does make a decision Erika will not let anything stop her from finishing it. She's steadfast when she knows what she wants and will stick up for herself. Not one to self-promote, Erika would rather be discovered than announce herself. Others may underestimate her due to her casual and nonchalant attitude. This is nearly always a mistake–one that Erika is happy to let others make because she prefers not to flaunt her talents or appear egotistical. She likes to think of herself as part of the background, staying hidden, but still a part of everything. She likes to be thought of as just average, nothing very special.
She's very timid and quiet, never saying much when she is around and tends to stutter nervously, or speak softly so it's hard to hear. She's very self-doubting and lacks any self-esteem thinking herself worth far less than anyone else. She's perfectly happy to let others walk all over her, never complaining about it once, and is happy just to let Zoe take over whenever she wishes.
History:: Erika and Zoe's history is interesting to say the least. In fact, Erika is the original occupant of her mind, Zoe came afterward despite what it would seem. Zoe is just the dominant personality and Erika is not. Erika was born in Greece, in a small town by the sea; and was actually a perfectly normal child until she was about eight years old. During her year as an eight year old Erika disappeared for about a whole week, no one knows where she went, or what happened to her, and she herself seems to have no recollection either. Many people have tried to get her to talk about it but she has some sort of mental block and if she overrides the block she just slips into a sort of comatose state till she deals with whatever it was and then come back, still unable to remember.
Soon after that she started showing signs of having a second personality, it started with smaller things like acting different than she normally would, dressing differently, talking in a different way. Soon she began to say her name was Zoe rather than Erika and her parents had no idea what was going on. They eventually figured out she had DID {or MPD, which is another name for it}. Slowly, slowly Zoe began to take over till Erika was all but gone.
When their... problem was found out, instead of being killed Erika and Zoe were used as a sort of pet science project to study the mind and it's capabilities. This idea came from Erika's father, he's a scientist as well, but he works in a different department, doing technological things not studying psychology and the mind. A lot of this involved tests of some sort, painful ones sometimes, and this was when Erika began to show up again. She was the one who got stuck with the needles being jabbed into her arms and doing all the tests. Zoe is just there for the talking, the psychology parts. So far that is how their life has played out and it shows no end, unless it's decided that they get to be killed on some whim of the government.
They live in a constant battle with each other, trying to figure out how to get rid of the other one, but are never able to figure out how to; and they can't seem to work together.
Dreams:: Zoe doesn't really have any dreams per say. Basically she just wants people to stop treating her like some science experiment who can't talk or feel. She wants to be a normal person and live a normal life. She does wish she could live without the fear of being killed for having a second personality floating around inside of her.
~~~~~~~~~~
Erika is the dreamer of the two. She wants to be free as well, more from Zoe than from anything else. She wants to have a life where she wouldn't have to worry about pain and suffering or when she'll be let out so she deals with the experiments rather than Zoe. She wants to have the freedom to express herself, and do what she wants when she wants to. But most of all Erika just wants someone who can love her with all her strange defects, fears, and low self-esteem.
Ancestry:: One side of Zoe's family, her mother's, is entirely Greek, no mixed blood what so ever there. Her great grandma is always fond of saying, we can trace out lineage all the way to the ancient Greeks and then your mother ruined it. Lovely woman. Her father however is an American man with German and Italian roots. An interesting mix all in all. It means she has a whole lot of family, and relations.
Religion:: Both of them are atheists, if there is a God he's never done a thing for them.
Political Views:: Who likes the government? Not either of them.

Orientation:: Straight.
Family:: There are far to many to list out properly but basically there is her mom, Lena, her dad Alexander, her older sister Alyssa, older brother Micheal, and younger brother Leo. Then she has all sorts of cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents. Lots of relations.
Status:: Both Zoe and Erika are single, they are rather one person so it would be hard to date either seeing as they switch back and forth.
~~~~~~~~~~
Erika is to shy and timid to look for a boyfriend, and unlikely to voice any opinions on the matter, if anything she's afraid of most men and more likely to shrink away from any advances than respond to them. She doesn't think herself worthy of anyone.
~~~~~~~~~~
Zoe is more of what you would call a player, she's unwilling to commit to anyone but perfectly happy to have a little fun. She thinks of love as a game, one in which people get hurt, but is any other game different? She doesn't want a serious relationship, after all who would seriously fall in love with a freak who has a second personality?
Loves:: Zoe is an avid reader, she loves books, especially sci-fi. Star Wars would have to be her all time favorite. She loves to bake, especially sweet foods like cookies, and brownies, and is always ready to try something new in the kitchen. She likes old black and white films, and tends to quote them often though few get her references. She likes to draw, but is absolutely terrible at it, and knows it too, but that doesn't stop her. She likes science as well, and has always been good at it. She's had an interest in becoming a physiotherapist, but right now she's employed as a science experiment so there's no time for that. She has an odd knack for being a good misuse, and is willing to help out her mom with her back pain by giving back rubs or whatever. Zoe isn't a big eater but she likes good food, her mom's home made food is always her favorite of course. She loves the ocean, having lived by one for all her life, and has a thing for lighthouses. She loves ships, and has a collection of models of ships.
~~~~~~~~~~
Erika is the more artistic one of the two, she's good with drawing, and sketching and is happy to spend her time locked away in her own little world. She loves to paint the ocean in particular, and living in Greece provided many good opportunities. Erika is also an avid reader, but likes a different style of books, ones that are more romance based are her favorites. Redeeming Love is one of the best she's read. Erika loves animals and well and has a cat named Penny, a little calico kitten. Zoe hates the cat but is willing to take care of it at times. She loves nature as well, especially flowers. She's good with photography, and takes excellent pictures of people. As for food Erika eats a lot more than Zoe and is happy with anything so long as most people would deem it edible. She loves fruits and breads especially. She likes to listen to music and is good at singing, both her voice and Zoe's have a sweet soprano sound, but only Erika sings.
Hates:: Zoe hates being told she is wrong or that she can't do something. She won't accept no for an answer. She hates feeling inferior of feeling 'used' per say, that's why she lets Erika deal with the tests, she can't stand them. She doesn't like having Erika inside of her either, and wants to be her own person. It's like having a miniature war inside ones self. She won't eat spicy foods for the most part, and hates pickles, and bacon {which most people think is odd}. She's not fond of reading romance books, and doesn't like sappy gooey emotions. She hates crying and showing fear, or pain. Anything that makes her seem weak really. She hates being cold, and doesn't like mountains all that much.
~~~~~~~~~~
Erika doesn't like sharing mind space with Zoe anymore than Zoe likes it, but her personality is the weaker one so there is nothing she can do about it. She hates taking tests and talking to the scientist. She's very self-conscious about herself as well and doesn't like being watched. She has trypanophobia, which is the fear of needles, quite a problem causer there. She doesn't like a lot of the same food as Zoe. She can't stand tight spaces and has huge issues with claustrophobia.
~~~~~~~~~~
Both Erika and Zoe hate and fear the government, but of course neither of them are silly enough to voice this.
Favorite Quote:: Zoe's favorite quote is I lie 100% of the time.
~~~~~~~~~~
Erika's is The gift of happiness belongs to those who unwrap it.

Alright a little bit about me. Call me Erica please (but just so you know, no that is not my real name). I am on for several hours each and every day usually without fail. I should also like to say I live in the gmt +8 {south east Asia area} time zone so I get on and off at different times than most everyone else on cs (not all of course). I also feel I should mention I'm dyslexic, so if my spelling or wording is a little off that is why. I've been rping for over a year now and am quite literate {just don't look at past posts all my lit rps are on a different site}, so I have plenty of experience. Yep that's about it.

[eden .]

[ Don't wanna make ya'll wait. I'll see what's up with Artesian. ]

[ I realize this is longer than you might've thought I wanted. Don't worry, I'm sticking to my 2 paragraph minimum, one at the very least. I was just setting context, and I also had lots of random ideas that happened. I wanted to make this all clear to you. ]

[ A few notes: multiple tests are going on at the same time. While they're not all set up exactly like this they're quite similar, intending to play with the subject's psychology somewhat. And the only reason Sherry is in New Delhi is because she lives there. The tests are administered in large cities throughout India (i.e.: Mumbai, Calcutta, Bangalore, etc.). If your person lives in a more rural area or slum, you'll have to explain how they got there. The government will probably provide transportation...although whether it was benign in your case is up to you. ]

[ And. This was happening when Sherry was 18. The bulk of the RP will happen present day, most likely, after the police have gotten their training and such and after citizens have been watched for quite a few years. But for context, let's just do these tests for now. :3 ]

The room was bland. Deathly so. It was as if the officers were going out of their way to make the subject uncomfortable which, Sherry had to admit, probably wasn't entirely impossible. She glanced up apprehensively at the ominously swinging single light bulb hanging by a thin strand of twine. Shadows were thrown at skewed angles. For a flash she could see the severe face of the steel haired woman standing on the other side of the table--standing, not sitting like Sherry was--the shadows sharpening her weathered lines. Then the pendulum swung back, and all Sherry would be able to see were shadows.

"Sherry Elizabeth Stringfield?" the woman asked, her voice hoarse, leathery, hard to listen to without being tempted to cringe. Still, Sherry swallowed her initial discomfort and responded, "Yes."

"Daughter of September and Nathan Stringfield?"

"Yes," Sherry answered automatically, missing the note of suspicion in the woman's voice as she uttered her parents' names. She was too preoccupied by the almost comically poetic interrogation they were having. This sort of thing only happened in movies.

"Miss Stringfield, do you have any mental disabilities, physical handicaps, or anything that separates you from normal citizens?" the interrogator asked blandly, not moving an inch, the bulb swinging. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. There she stood, arms clasped tightly behind her back, flashes of dull green uniform interrupting the dim concrete room. Somewhere Sherry swore she heard water dripping. She was violently reminded of torture strategies where all subjects were left in a room with only the company of the sounds plip-plop. Plip-plop. Plip-plop. Over and over and over. Forever. Until they were driven mad--

"Miss Stringfield?" the woman prompted, her gravelly voice turning unmistakably distrustful. Starting, Sherry answered perhaps too quickly, "No."

A moment of silence. "And what is your form of education, Miss Stringfield?"

"Education?" Sherry echoed, unsure of how to respond. "Um, I've had the basic education through high school. My parents never offered to pay for a college education, so I don't have a degree," she added bitterly, imagining her brother's stupid face glowing with misplaced pride as he stood with a bound scroll in his hand. What would he do if Sherry told him that to get him through college their parents bribed the teachers with her college tuition?

In the last swing of the light bulb Sherry spotted the woman give a small nod to someone behind Sherry. With a spike of panic and shock she whirled in her seat to look behind her. Of course, she couldn't see anything. If there was anyone there they had to have been in the very back, away from the light's touch. Yet even as she thought this, Sherry heard a pair of crisp steps leaving the room, a clatter of a metal grate, a clang as it was closed again, and water. Plip-plop. Plip-plop.

The lights were thrown on, and the concrete room was suddenly flooded with light as larger round bulbs shone from within thick glass encasing fitted into the ceiling. Sherry blinked furiously to adjust, somewhat concerned that there was a ring of officers around her but not overly surprised. It was fitting. They were all men, she noted, although there didn't seem to be much difference in nationalities, as some were clearly native Indians, others Caucasian, an Asian, and a few African - Americans. They all looked, Sherry had to admit, rather stupid, rather dull. Easy to manipulate. The woman, however, was a different story, an ugly scar separating her otherwise modeled face across the bridge of her nose, originating somewhere on her scalp where her gray hair covered and ending just below her jaw line. Sherry couldn't help staring.

"Check her," the woman commanded, and immediately a pair of men seized Sherry's arms and pulled her up roughly. While Sherry knew this was coming--it was in the description, she would have a "physical"--she didn't appreciate having a pair of strange men pushing her around. In any other situation she might've wrenched out her arm and elbowed them both. In this one, however, Sherry settled for a withering glare, afraid to do any more under the eyes of the woman. At first she was afraid that she would have to take off her clothes, but clearly it wasn't an issue, as the group continued the examination, Sherry standing stock still.

First they took her weight. Then her height. Then they measured her middle finger and compared it to the length of her palm, measured the length of her arm and took it against her torso (at this they paused, as if concerned, and gave Sherry a cautious look that she couldn't fathom), plucked a few hairs from her scalp and tested its texture and durability, took a crucible and measured the width of her nose, made her open her mouth so they could count how many teeth she had...It was ridiculous, outlandish, and Sherry wasn't quite sure what to think, although this all felt much more invasive than it might've seen.

Then it was over. Apparently they had finish once they clipped off a bit of her fingernail and inspected it. The woman glanced over the results on a clipboard one of the soldiers had been furiously scribbling on before sniffing in discontent. "Well, Miss Stringfield, it seems you've passed."

"Oh," said Sherry, sighing but not feeling especially relieved. "That's wonderful. So...can I go home?"

"The Leader has different plans for you."

Pain. Fast and quick and effective. Sensation of falling. Then --

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ƒємαℓє ● 24 ● ѕєcяєт ρσℓιcє
ℓσcαтιση: New Delhi ● ωιтн: No One

[Airmid]

((Yay! We can start! o3o))

Caius still remembered that day. The same thing had been happening all over the country, and the teenager had heard stories about what happened. Of course not all of them were true, however there had been some accounts that still caused the teenager to sweat a little. And worrying was not something that the previous gang member was born to do. Caius had heard tales of men and women being knocked out and dragged away. Away to where? Nobody seemed to know. To be killed? Probably, knowing the governments tight rules and regulations. The poor excuse for a house, he'd been living in previously was right in the centre of the great city of Mumbai, meaning that now he and his parents had enough money; they'd retreated to the outskirts of the city. Caius had only been a part of the garage for around a year, still learning the ropes when the day had come. Everyone knew when and where to go, but Caius didn't want to. He really didn't want to. For the most part of the day, he'd hidden underneath a wrecked car, pretending to be doing work, when in actual fact he was hiding. The rest of his co-workers had already given up and gone to take their 'test' or whatever. For hours, he'd been laying on the little board getting increasingly soaked in oil that wouldn't quit dripping on him. Gosh- he was a coward. The moment, he'd thought those words, the teenager had felt a rough had grab his exposed foot a pull him from underneath the car. Startled and very, very scared; the teenager had come face to face with a few uniformed men, all brandishing weapons.

"You have not taken your mandatory health check" The leader of the group growled, sending the startled teenager a glare. Caius was in trouble now, he could tell. Another guard placed a tense had over his dirty and sweaty back, ushering him towards the large van parked outside his garage. "We will take you" The same man dead-panned, leaving no room for questions. Caius gulped before throwing his trusty spanner back into the garage with a loud and obnoxious clang. There were others in this van, all of them had probably done the same as him and tried to hide. The government probably kept tabs on all the residents through the census and had some kind of tick box next to every name, therefore indicating the member of the public's arrival. And these men were going round, and picking up stragglers. The ride in the small van had been uneventful. They'd picked up a few more riders, but no conversation was started. If one even coughed, you would be told to shush, by the guards driving the van.

When the vehicle had finally come to a shuddering stop, Caius gingerly stepped out first, pupils aching from the sudden splurge of light. Blinking furiously, the teenager hadn't had much time to adjust before he was being roughly grabbed and directed over to a very uninteresting looking building. Others from the same van were being ushered to different buildings, thanks to some strange criteria. Not the Caius cared. Again his light levels were immediately switched as he was pushed into a dark room, facing a very brawny woman. She did not look like someone to take lightly. She'd been in pristine condition, while Caius looked as if he'd just bee playing in the nearby sewers; he was so filthy.

"Caius Stewart Giffiths?" The intimidating woman rasped out, voice horse from what sounded like a lifetime of cigarette smoking. The sound did not make the teenager want to continue with his habit, if he was to end up sounding like that. Not wanting to offend the elderly woman, Caius opted for a neutral nod of his head.

"Family are as follows; One Mr. Daniel Griffiths, and one Mrs. Delilah Griffiths" To which she received another, wary nod of the head. Flint had never been interrogated by the police, even during his gang-member days, but having to talk to this woman already was putting him off the idea. His interrogator watched in boredom as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, due to his nervous swallowing.

"Do you have any mental disabilities, handicaps or take any medication that I should know about?" She continued on her barrage of questioning, sounding as if she'd asked these questions a millions times. Which in truth; she probably had. "No ma'am" Caius dared to say, voice croaking a little. The woman made a high pitched noise in her throat, as she scribbled something down on a dirty piece of paper. Abruptly, she slammed the pen down, before standing up and circling him with a look of disgust.

"Now before we do the physical, I want you to clean that rubbish from your person" She practically shrieked in his ear. Before Caius could even protest, his arms were being tightly held behind his back and shirt ripped off. The teenager let out a grunt in protest, but of course that didn't do anything. An unforgiving jet of water, cold as ice hit his bare chest, knocking the wind from him. Groaning in pain, the sensation was over as soon as it had come and he was dropped to the floor. Again, Caius wasn't able to do much as more pairs of hand hauled him to his feet holding him there until he had enough strength to stand once more.

Still in a daze, Caius barely registered the many hands measuring, pulling and probing everything. At one point, a strange piece of apparatus was used to measure the length and width of his nose, while another was measuring his palm, before measuring his arm, before measuring his torso, before finally taking his height. When the dozens of hands finally left his person, Caius dared to look up at the woman who was shaking her head in disappointment, while writing something else down. "Another failure..." She hissed in his direction. Wait what?! What had he failed?! But- in this day and age; Failure meant death didn't it!? Another man forced the teenager into his soaking wet shirt, that had been carelessly thrown to the dirty ground, before opening the door and pushing him out into the scorching heat.

What did failure mean for him now...?

((Dat's longer than I intended it to be o-o Hopefully I've got the right idea :B))

[Nicolae]

Nicolae

Kolkata was big. Very big. Even as he sat on the dirty medical bench, presumably alone in the room besides his examiner and the observers he was sure were present behind some wall or another, he could swear he felt the swarms of Calicut work-goers choking him in a human tidal wave borne of morning commute. The city itself had always been a stress factor in his life, visible from his small apartment on the other side of the Bhagirathi. Even as it had loomed before him over the turbulent yellow waters just a day before, it loomed still even now- above and around him. This was the homestead of the High Kolkata court, the primary justice in all of West Bengal... government hotspot, a silent seat of power whose police force festered even as the populous swarmed.

It was a fact well known to the Hawrah public defense departments. Calcutta was bad news- a wolf's den, so to speak. Naturally he'd been aware of this when he'd answered the knocking at his flat door to lock eyes with men he knew to be members of Calicut police. Naturally he'd been aware that nothing good was going to come of the situation when he was asked to accompany them. He didn't want to go with them necessarily (though he'd never have tried to fight them off, that was just stupid) and he definitely didn't trust them.

So, then how the hell had he ended up here in the belly of the beast? He'd gone willingly, yes, there wasn't another option- but that didn't answer the most important questions of the day. Why? How?

These were inquiries which Nicolae pursued privately as he was examined in silence; rubber-gloved hands settled on his face, a thumb pulling his lower eyelid down as a forefinger pushed his brow up. He was asked to look up. Down. Side, side. He did so, and then did it again with the minor alteration of having a small light directed at his eye. The gesture was repeated with the other eye, leaving him blinking away brightly colored spots from his field of vision and struggling not to frown.

Stay polite. Stay calm.

He felt a little something like a horse being sold at market, having his chin pushed up, the length and angle of his nose, brow, cheek bones and forehead taken. Then his height, his weight, all without a word aside from simple commands and figures murmured as they were transcribed onto the proctor's notepad.

His mouth was pried open with a bitter-tasting latex finger, his jaws almost forcibly pried open. A foam jack was inserted into the back of his mouth to keep his dentition in full view, and after a few moments something piqued the interest of the man performing the examination.

"You are missing a molar in the back."

"Yes," he responded.

"Genetic?" and, when met with a shake of his head, a new venture; "Traumatic?"

He nodded, trying very hard not to be annoyed by the pricking and scraping he felt against his gums and lips. In eventuality it ended with a cotton swab swept across the inside of one cheek, and... and... they drew blood. He hadn't seen that one coming, they'd already gone through the trouble of an insulin needle to the forearm, that had been a struggle as it were. Why did they need two? His back arched slightly and his body went stiff in blind, phobic fear as he felt the hypodermic dig into his lower gumline. Even as it was removed a half minute later he found that he fight not to panic.

Being prodded and poked like this was incredibly unpleasant, and after a full morning of 'conversation' he was left trying to guess at what the purpose of all of it was. Their interrogative procedures were as invasive as their medical ones. Not only had they felt the need to demand information regarding his level of education, socioeconomic background, family, resume, political opinions and whether or not he had a family history of degenerative disease- they'd also taken physical samples of every sort. Some were more disturbing than others, and all were varying degrees of unpleasant.

Eventually he was removed from physical examination, his clothing returned to him- most blessedly of all his collar, which was fastened to his neck with exceeding haste. The next portion seemed to be a repeat of this morning in text form. No doubt they wanted a written and signed admission to something, and he didn't have the energy to try and think of a way to cover his a**. Filling out the papers one by one under the supervision of many eyes, he did his best to keep consistent in his answers. A question answered differently the second time could be seen as a lie. Lies were a crime punishable by death in a government like this. He completed the papers the same way he'd gone through examination. In silence. He turned to the proctor, handed him the stack and looked him dead in the eyes. He knew he must have been unsettling the man; the DeMorgan family had a knack for disturbingly deep, calculating stares.

Nicolae didn't know what he had expected to happen. Not entirely, anyways. He had been moved to a dimly lit concrete room filled with badly upholstered furniture, and men who looked even worse for their wear than the furniture they huddled into. It was to his surprise, mostly, that he was met in the dark waiting room by a young women who glanced between him and several other silent men.

"DeMorgan, Nicolae?"

He raised a hand to signal that the name was his own. She beckoned him to the door once again, and with some reluctance he followed. At least they weren't going to gas him or anything. Seeing as they were taking the time to single him out, maybe they planned to shoot him instead or something.

_______________________________

Andrei

What a waste. What a troublesome lack of consideration for time. They'd dragged Andrei all the way across Masharashtra from Goa, farther than he'd traveled since the mountains- albeit by train. They had come from door to door, and they had taken every unmarried man and woman above twenty. Andrei had walked from his small grocery with the growing crowd, accompanied by men who assured this was a harmless but necessary government endeavor.

The train cars were cramped, uncomfortable and well-monitored. Communications devices were revoked, and those who were caught trying to slip an ipod or a gameboy from their pocket found it quickly confiscated- there was no wiggle room. Andrei especially was heckled by the police who had rounded them up, who were suspicious of his silence and his lack of technology. This was the moment where the calm Ukrainian first began to feel annoyed, the quiet burning of impatience crawling from the bottom of his stomach to the center of his broad chest.

Hours. They'd examined him for hours after arriving in Bombay, separating the crowd into smaller groups which were brought in for examination in sets of three, all of whom went through it individually. He'd been unlucky enough to catch the first wave, brought in by a dark Punjabi man who sat him down in a decrepit wooden chair which clearly was never meant to seat a man of his stature. Andrei was not a bright man, and he didn't look forwards to answering questions- feeling himself sweat a little under the prospect of being asked about math or geography or history.

It started out simply, but as time went on developed into a far more difficult affair. He was first asked his name, which he answered quietly. Then he was asked his age, which he also answered. They asked him about his family, and he named them all- his uncles Dragomir and Constantine, his brothers Alexander and Ulrich, his sisters Ariana and Svetla and Roselein. As all of them were named and described, the Punjabi became more and more visibly annoyed. This made Andrei mad. If he didn't want to know, why had he asked?

Then they asked him about his education. Andrei said that he was Ukrainian schooled, that he had dropped out, that he had no high-school degree and had never considered trying to obtain one. That was met with a slow nod from the dark-skinned man, who adjusted the cloth of his turban before then asking him about his grocery, if he'd had any other jobs. All were met with the same dispassionate answers which had come to be Andrei's mean.

Eventually it came to Phase 2, and the large man was commanded up to his feet and into another room- only to be greeted by the horrified face of his would-be medical examiner. Brushing a few golden locks from her face and looking flustered, she pointed at his hands and screamed something in Hindi that he did not understand. Then she pointed at the Punjabi, whose face was growing remarkably pale for a man of his skin tone. Andrei was quickly hurried away back through the room his fellow travelers waited in and into a larger room filled with bedraggled looking men and women.

With finality the room was addressed by a well-dressed, tall Maharashtran man and given their final verdict; failure. While not proficient in English, this was a word he understood well enough.

What a waste. What a gross, shocking waste of time.

[Artesian]

-- deleted ---

[paradox.]

BANGALORE, INDIA -- Julian had never liked India to begin with. It was only due to his parents incessant urging that he moved here. Was he still slightly angry that he agreed to them? Yes he was. It wasn't that India was a bad place but he just preferred it in Australia where the streets were less crowded and you didn't have to be so afraid that someone might steal something from you. And now here he was, in a testing room, waiting to be tested. Of course that was what you did in a testing room anyways. The room was surprisingly dim with only a swinging lamp light up above to provide some source of light. The door creaked open slightly on its hinges and Julian looked up at the man standing in the doorway. The instant dislike he had for the man surprised even him.

Julian was thin, surprisingly so. Of course he had always had his fare share of food but he just had a fast metabolism. At least you weren't able to see his ribs. Julian sat, staring ahead at the stark white(at least he thinks its white) wall in front of him, refusing to meet the glare of the tester. He could feel breathing on his neck, smell the mans horrible breath that made him want to retch. The man moved in front of him and sat in the chair. Julian studied the man and almost smirked at the stark contrast between the two. While Julian was tall yet lanky, the man was short and stocky with clear muscles bulging under his shirt. The man was also curiously bald though he seemed no older than 30 while Julian had a full head of brown locks up to his ears. Julian wondered for a bit if that was what happened if you worked at this job.

The two men had a stare down for a few moments, just glaring at each other and sizing each other up as best they could in the poorly lit room. He had always hated tests as a child and even now he still hates them. What exactly was there to not like about them? The feeling that he might fail for one and for another it usually involved him sitting for a prolonged period of time, something the young lad was not used to doing.

After what had seemed like an eternity, the man decided to utter the words. "Julian Travis Larson?" Julian blinked twice after hearing the mans voice. It was rough and gravelly like the rest of the man. There seemed to be a trait that made you just instantly know he couldn't be trusted. Finally, Julian nodded and the man continued. "Your parents are Dolce and Laurence Larson?" Julian once again nodded, not daring to open his mouth and speak.

The man thought this over for a second, eyeing him warily before opening his mouth again and exhaling, making Julian once again smell his foul breath. Julian did not turn his head however, only slightly cringing but the man had not noticed it. "Mr. Larson," the man began again, "do you have any sort of mental disabilities, physical handicaps, or anything that would separate you from a normal citizen?" Julian thought this question over for a minute. Would his weight count? After all he didn't seem 160 pounds at all. Deciding it probably didn't count at all or they wouldn't have mentioned the question, Julian shook his head.

"What is your form of education?" Julian thought for a moment, realizing this would require him to speak. He didn't want to appear rude so he answered quickly, but loudly enough for the man to hear. "I went through basic education and I have a masters degree in literature." One of the few things Julian liked was kids and he planned to become an teacher for kids. He had wanted to become a teacher for most of his life though his parents tried to tell him to become a doctor or even a lawyer.. The man nodded and said the words Julian had been dreading but waiting for. "Search him."

Over the course of what seemed like an hour, Julian was stripped and checked. They were all men, he could tell and though he felt like bolting, he stayed still and allowed them to do what they wanted. It was annoying, uncomfortable, and a complete violation of his privacy, but all these men were significantly larger and buffer than him. Julian shut his eyes and waited for them to be finished then heaved a deep sigh after they were done. He looked towards the large, buff man who interviewed him. The man nodded to another man who had been scribbling notes down earlier. He walked beside Julian and whispered in his ear. "You passed," The man said, though his eyes, full of distrust, lingered on Julian. Julian had no idea whether to be elated by passing or whether to be worried so he just stood there with a slightly dumbstruck look on his face.

"So uh... Can I leave?" He asked after a few moments.

"Sorry but no. The leader has plans."

Julian honestly had no idea what that meant. What plans? Why couldn't he leave? What was that weird pain in his neck? Wait... weird pain in his neck? His head tilted in a confused way before he quickly dropped to the floor, his legs failing from under him. His head hurt from the drop but he couldn't move or do anything. Everything became blurry and all he could remember was the men standing above him before he completely passed out.

[Aster]

"Dmitri Katherine Boroski?" The polite, if slightly cool voice interrupted Demi's thoughts as the twenty-two year old sat quietly on the bench she'd been told to sit on. "Stay there until we send for you," were the orders that had been given, and Demi hadn't even thought of disobeying. After all, if she couldn't trust in her government, who could she trust in? She twisted her silver necklace around one finger as she answered nervously, her voice unnaturally high, "Yes, that's me." She wondered if she should add a smile, but when she caught sight of the speaker, she decided not to. It wasn't the woman who'd shown her to her seat, but a broad-shouldered female who looked more like a Mr. than a Mrs. "Daughter of Clara and Alec Boroski?" The woman's voice was, unsurprisingly, very low and gravelly. And emotionless. Even the initial politeness had gone; now she simply seemed to say the words, perfectly pronouncing them but without a hint of a feeling of any type. Demi nodded affirmative. Her mouth had gone dry, and she berated herself mentally for being afraid.

"Miss Boroski, do you have any mental disabilities, physical handicaps, or anything that separates you from normal citizens?" The questioner continued, without pause. "No," answered Demi, automatically. At least none that the doctors had diagnosed so far. The woman eyed her for a moment, a trifle doubtingly, but then gave a subtle shrug, and moved onto the next inquire. "What education have you had, Miss Boroski?" Demi tensed slightly. Her education, or rather, lack thereof, was a sore spot for her. "The required years, up to high-school. I went to the community college for a small amount of time, after being offered a scholarship, because my parents couldn't pay, and then had to drop out to help support my family,"she replied dully, with a hint of resentment. "I wish I had a degree, but I don't." All of a sudden, the small, dirty room was lit up brightly by the door opening down the hall. Demi blinked in confusion, and even though she felt this wasn't the time, she couldn't help noting that the room she was in was remarkably dirty. There was only one small window, and the glass was broken, and had never been replaced. She was stopped from noting more by the arrival of a group of unfamiliar men. They were of all different skin colors and sizes, and they all seemed to take command from the woman.

"What's going on?" Demi demanded, but no one bothered to answer. A small noise of surprise tore, unbidden, from her as one man grabbed her arms and the next stage of the examinations began. Things happened so fast that she was scarcely aware of them, and it seemed within moments they were done. "Miss Boroski," the woman told her tonelessly. "You've failed." Demi's eyes widened. "What-" The first word barely had left her lips before she was roughly bundled out the door.

[eden .]

[ lol, castle. we're in flashback mode right now. sorry I didn't make that clear. We're just elaborating on the process of the testing. It was about 6 years ago. So your post is fine, just FYI the tests are at the beginning of the regime, so technically Ariadne wouldn't be totally integrated into the program for that long. :3 ]

[ FYI @everyone: this post is a flashback one from present day Sherry at her graduation exam b/c I don't feel like going through training. It's pretty basic. The trainees are trained physically and they're drilled over and over and over on the values of the state and basically are trained to worship the Leader as a god. So, like, brainwash. Basically. ]

Six years wasn't very long at all, you have to admit that. Sherry batted open her eyes from the chair she was lounging in, the conference room bald of distinctive features. Nothing was eye catching, anymore. She carelessly spun her rifle about the trigger, the safety unlocked. She could probably shoot herself right then and there. Meditatively she spun the gun in her hands with a quick flick of the wrist and a casual spin before placing the barrel at her temple.

"Bang," Sherry breathed to no one in particular before removing the gun and letting her right arm fall off the side of the chair limply. It probably wasn't that simple for her parents, but it was incredibly easy to die. Point, aim, shoot. It was killing that was the problem. You were still conscious on the other side of it.

Testing wasn't so bad. Yeah, she was a bit freaked out. She was a pitiful mess of skin and bones in a gray workers suit that was much to large for her. Like anyone cared. Sherry distinctly remembered aching muscles and random flashes of incomprehensible images drilled at her on a very large screen while she was sitting on a rather uncomfortable metal chair. The noise in there was rather loud as well, although she couldn't quite remember the exact sound...

Anyways. The only thing she distinctly remembered was killing her parents--mostly because they were the only ones to never beg for mercy out of all the other lives she'd killed. And also because whenever she recalled the look on their faces she couldn't help the small twinge that played on her heart. It wasn't that she was guilty, but their looks...they looked...what was the word? It looked like all their suspicions and disappointments had manifested into reality in the moment they saw Sherry in that doorway. No, it wasn't guilt. It was bitterness. The "I would never be good enough for you" feeling. Which reminded her, where was her brother? Sherry wondered if the prisons had cracked him, yet. He himself was of little value, but he had ended up under some powerful people. A muscle in Sherry's jaw jumped at the thought. If their parents had just paid attention to her...

Snorting, Sherry pushed the chair in a circle, watching the ceiling rotate above her head as she gave the floor another kick. Around and around they go...where they stopped...no one would know. She was really just wasting time, unwilling to return to her room. Having just finished an assassin of some entrepreneur that was getting some liberal ideas, Sherry had finished giving her full report, which was the most boring and dull experience of her lifetime. No one paid attention to them, anyway. Now everyone had filed out, and she was left alone for whatever odd soul to pick at her brain.

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ƒємαℓє ● 24 ● ѕєcяєт ρσℓιcє
ℓσcαтιση: New Delhi, HQ, Conference Room ● ωιтн: No One