Remnants of the Earth

She sighed as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. It had been a while since she had had to slip into her flight suit with all the extra padding and protection. Blu had been thinner then. She still had yet to pull the zipper closed and all she could see was the gentle curve of her belly so full of unexpected life. The fluttering she felt there made her smile softly though. Was that nerves or just Petit doing what they were starting to do best, squirm and crush her bladder?

The Pilot shook her head and scooped up the newest addition to her uniform, a band of extra padding that she secured about her middle under the suit. It was made with the same tight-knit fabric as the rest of the suit with the extra layers of protection that were found over the heart or hearts of every Pilot uniform. Carrying a baby wasn't stopping her from running field drills but, she still had one more heartbeat to protect now.

Blu brushed her nerves aside, yanking the zipper up tight and rolling her eyes at the tiniest bit of pudge that still stuck out despite the compressing nature of the band underneath. She would only be able to squeeze into this a bit longer it seemed before she would dome-bound for several long months. It was now or never though if she was going to do this. Setting everything up had taken far longer than she would have liked. No one had done anything like it before. If it was successful, then the Angels would be integrating it into their drills as a regular exercise.

Up until this point all of them had been working hard to balance virtual simulations with rotations as trauma surgeons for Amristah's hospital. It had been going well but Blu knew that when the Angels were finally called to arms, it would not be enough. Hospitals were too clean, too neat and orderly. There were machines and extra hands always a call away. Battlefields were different. They were messy and chaotic. They were loud and poorly lit with little protection from elements and opposition. The same complications would arise and a doctor would lack the required tools that even the most basic of hospitals had.

It was time to put everything to the test though. Several of the squad members had been assembled and were suiting up just like her. They'd have their briefing and then mount up and out. A few would be left behind to maintain work within the hospital and in case anything happened while the rest of the squad was gone. Communication in the Wastes was touchy at best and there was no knowing if they would be able to be recalled back in time if there was a true emergency.

Helmet tucked under her arm, Blu came around the locker room corner and nodded at her fellow Angels. Her smile came easy as the first bubbles of adrenaline began to flow through her veins. The risk involved only made it more exciting. This was what she lived for. This is what the war had molded her into, a woman who felt the most calm while in the thick of things. Her Pilots had all been hand picked not only for their abilities and talents as doctors, but also their shared fervor for going the extra mile to save a life. She was proud of them, even those that she had initially felt personally uncomfortable around were becoming close to her heart. They weren't a family yet but she believed bit by bit they would become so.

"Alright Angels, time for final checks. Make sure you have only what you need but also enough for the unexpected. We're going to be out in the Wastes for three days if all goes well and not all of those we're going to have the dragons with us. Many of you have been out there before but, for those that haven't, you'll find that separations happen. There are sometimes places we can go that they cannot follow and it becomes our duty to get ourselves out and back to them. This drill'll be about more than just surviving the elements with limited resources and wounded, but also how you go about treating and protecting them.

"Now, we've practiced all the surgical techniques we should need and run countless simulations. I'm not saying this drill will be a walk in the park, but everything we've done should have given you a taste of what to expect. We're going to be flying out to one of the Waster hovels and treating some of their wounded. We've reached a bit of an accord but don't be getting comfy. Even if they ain't looking to start trouble doesn't mean others won't. They've been hit hard by raiders which is why we're going out there and packing for a fight.

"That don't even count the critters out there which you all should've read about in your briefing files. Since we're headed west instead of east we shouldn't run into too many mountain cats but we still got Ursas out there as well as them damn Cracklings Geese. You see them, you sing out. Bastards got teeth that'll tear your damn hand off and I'm not too keen on trying to sew us all back together on top of everything else going on."

Blu winked at them as her bright blues to take them all in. She was serious but there was no need to truly worry in her mind. They were brand new as a squadron, but that was not going to stop them from going far. Her blood was practically singing in excitement. They would not fail her as long as she did not fail them. It was time to prove their squad was more than just a pretty PR stint. They had purpose and it was their time to shine.

"Remember, this is what we were made for. Ain't nothing going to stop us as long as we keep our head in the game and stay focused. Now, any final questions, concerns, or snarky commentary before we head out? I have no doubts that this will go smoothly. You're all the best I could have asked for and more. Gotta say, I'm mighty proud to serve with all of you. Let's go have some fun and kick some ass!"

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Tetra Pak
Alias NeonDreams
Age 25
DOB June 7th
Gender Male
Sexuality GAAAAAAAAAAAY (but very closeted even to himself)
Romanticism He just wants to be loooooved....BUT NOT THAT MUCH...TOO MUCH NOOOOO
Species Human/Shifter
Ethnicity Libran
Height 4'11"
Occupation Mechanic
Residence Libra Station
Voice Claim Lee Taemin from Taemin


__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description

Tetra is a little thing with a round face and chubby cheeks ripe for the pinching. He his slender with a bit of pudge and has large hands and feet with long fingers and toes. His neon red hair reaches down to midback and is usually haphazardly tied back while working though left loose when he isn’t. There is one section of his bangs that are also dyed a raspberry blue and cut to frame his face. He has wide, pale grey eyes and a round, flat nose with warm-toned skin. For the life of him, Tetra is unable to grow any facial hair and gets rather touchy about this fact.

Along the tops and backs of his shoulders as well the outside and back of his hips, Tetra has some very faint leopard spots sprinkled and scattered about. While they appear to be tattoos they are actually part of his natural coloring.

For clothing he wears simple things that are loose and easy to maneuver in as he is often crawling around in tight and filthy places while at work. He has two hoops in the top of his right ear and in the lobe of his left. He also wears a collar around his neck that is his psionic dampener. This collar sticks with him even in his other form as do the piercings. He has added a loop to the collar though with a metal tag that is inscribed in very fine print “I’m not lost, now fuck off.”

Personality

In general, Tetra is a rather quiet and grumpy individual. He tends to keep to himself and offer glares and scowls from off to the side rather than voice his displeasure. In truth, he is a very, very shy young man who while smart enough get through life is also very naive about how the world works. Things like innuendos go right over his head and he tends to take people and what they say at face value without searching for ulterior or darker motives. This does tend to get him into trouble though especially when paired with his prudish nature. Sex jokes don’t go over well with him although his tantrum is usually rather entertaining for those nearby.

Behind the protection of technology though, he becomes a bit bolder. He fancies himself a tough guy and tends to have a running commentary on whatever anyone happens to be saying. His opinion is law and how dare you try to contradict him. He will most certainly hunt you down and pounce...maybe. He quickly earned himself the title of angry espresso bean for his antics.


Being a snow leopard is one of his greatest joys in life. People tend not to pick on him or look down on him when he’s the most adorable little floofster you ever did see. That is of course IF he lets you see him. He enjoys stalking and skulking about through shadows and vents to explore and enjoy the station. Tetra becomes incredibly playful in his cat form, almost to the point of being a kitten. He will pounce and stalk and cause all sorts of mischief that he never would in his human form. He also retains a great deal of his online persona’s bonus despite his rather petite size. In his mind he is a mighty hunter and though he can’t roar you will fear him all the same.

Things

• Loves all dairy products. Considers it a sin to adulterate them with "weird" additions. CHEESE IS LIFE.
• Very skittish around loud noises and will likely squeal or jump if you manage to surprise him.
• Definitely has some kitty quirks including: purrs mightily for aggressive chin scratches while in cat form, lays the kitty belly trap on the regular to unsuspecting fools, and carries his tail in his mouth.
• Rather obsessive about keeping clean in both forms but also tends to get quite dirty while working. Is either covered in grease or doused liberally in jasmine and mint.
• LOVES birb and while chases the birds on the station doesn’t ever catch them.
• Allergic to pollen and has the cutest little sneeze ever.

Magic/Abilities

Telekinetic: Tetra is registered and wears a collar that dampens his psionic abilities. It has the ability to shrink and with his shifting much to his displeasure.

Shifter: He also has the ability to shift into the form of a small snow leopard complete with a very fluffy tail all at will. From head to tail he is the same length has his human height and half his human weight, much to his disappointment. Much of his apparent "size" as a snow leopard is also solely due to his long, thick fur and tail which is half of his length alone. The only thing that sets him apart from an actual snow leopard is the tuft of neon red hair on the top of his head with one lone blue streak.

As a human, his shifter abilities have left him with stronger senses and agility. He always lands on his feet and can usually sense trouble coming before trouble finds him.

Relationships

Mother: DECEASED April 20th

Father: DECEASED December 24th

Bhaziell: Unintentional Liondad. Whterh he likes it or not, Tetra has been adopted in by this older man. He loves to seek him out and terrorize play with him as kitties.

Jedidiah "JD" Pruitt: His ultimate prankster rival and defiler of all things CHEESE! Tetra would never admit it but probably one of the closets things he has to a friend? He loves to jumpscare JD and often seeks the other man out when he's lonely. NOT that he's going to admit that either. Calls him "Screamy" in the chat.

Roscoe Pruitt: Calls him "Grumpy" and enjoys hiding in his office from time to time when JD is being a butt. Secretly thinks Roscoe gives the best kitty scratches and makes a great lap to curl up in.

Dante DeRath: @.@ (P.S. Dante is a big fat cheaterhead! It wasn't in the rules so it wasn't cheating, how dare you scruff Tetra when he's winning!)

History

He was born and raised on Libra by his human mama who worked as an import clerk in the Libran docks. His shifter abilities come from his mechanic father who died before he was born. He grew up as a happy and normal little boy in the beginning. However, Tetra’s mother died when he was ten during a scuffle with a trade merchant regarding the illegal wares he was trying to import into Libra.

Things flipped on their head from that moment forward. A generally sweet and intensely curious boy become a more reserved and grumpy man. Tetra finished his required schooling and eventually went into trade work like his father thanks to a favor from one of his father’s old friends and coworkers. He’s been working as a mechanic ever since. A lot of his job deals with getting down and dirty in the tight spaces others can’t reach or working with delicate instruments. He’s good at what he does and quick about if a bit snarky hence why he isn’t allowed near most customers anymore.

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He sighed as no further messages came back in response before tossing his com onto the couch and dropping to the floor in a push-up position. His body creaked in protest to the sudden demand to exercise so early in the morning without a warm-up but Dashiell was restless and now had a lot on his mind he needed to sweat out.

Because you haven't apologized for anything you've ever done.

That wasn't entirely true now, was it? Up until three years ago it seemed he apologized for everything and anything if it meant making Reese happy. He, who had always believed he would not bow or bend to anyone, had tied himself into pretzel knots just for that bewitching creature. Now with them gone he had been spiraling out of control, and happy to do it too.

Dashiell had meant what he had said though. He was an asshole. Always had been and likely always would be. Mr. Perfect didn't exist and he had no interest in trying to be him. Back in the day he had even taken pride in being a dick to others. Then again, back then he had also had friends and later a partner in crime and life.

What did he have now?

He paused, holding in a plank position as he raised his head to look around the dimly-lit place he called home. It was cluttered and messy but then without Reese to harp on and on about cleaning, he had felt no need to constantly shuffle things about. It wasn't much to look at that was for sure. Clothes and books were strewn about and the trash was overflowing again with empty takeaway boxes. He'd have to take care of that at the very least later in the morning before work.

Work.

He supposed he had that if one could call his mandated community service, work. It was vastly different from what he was used to as a military man but he applied himself to task with the same sense of responsibility as he did as a Jockey. Dashiell was not a dumb man and knew that all it would take was one slip-up, one word from Ryul and he really would lose even that. It was already uncertain whether after his six month sentence he would ever be permitted to return to service but with even this small chance he would still fight for it.

Dashiell shook his head and returned to his exercise as recent conversations with the bakery owner played back in his head. It seemed that no matter how frustrated he could and would get, Ryul was always just as pleasant and encouraging as ever. It actually made Dashiell feel grateful to the other man. He knew he had been venomous and extraordinarily cruel of late, more than was even in his nature. He could fool himself into thinking too that what had happened with Gray and Deacon had been their faults for throwing the first blows. It wasn't his fault after all that they couldn't handle a bit of goading.

But, then there was Reese's former lover, the man Dashiell had always thought had been the other one. It had been a shock to find out that after all this time his hatred had been misplaced. He was the villain in that part of his own tale. Dashiell had been the one stealing Reese away from this “Novilunio” and not the other way around.  When that realization had sufficiently sunk in his stomach had churned in disgust. Of all the things he was and was not, Dashiell had always been proud to be able to state he was not that kind of man, that he was not one to steal someone's heart away from another. Then, he had gone and done just that without even realizing it. It was no excuse though. Reese had played him for the fool and he had let them,just like he always had.

Worst of all though he had nearly killed the man over the misconception. He didn't even know his name and had attacked the man without thought or question, acting on instinct alone. The others had been equally at fault but “Novilunio” had simply been an innocent in the face of Dashiell’s rage and fury. That sickened him more. It had been nearly a month since the incident and Dashiell felt genuine guilt and remorse over it.

And yes there are people owed apologies...would you even listen if I tried?

Those words had come spilling out from his fingertips and sent before he had really thought them through and yet, once the enter key was struck Dashiell's heart had pounded within his chest. He had found that he had wanted to know. If anyone deserved an apology from him, it was certainly that sorry sod. His therapist had insisted on making Dashiell write out not only his feelings but also letters of apology to each of the three he had injured with his fighting. It had been meant as an exercise of contrition and yet Dashiell had done only what was required of him and rolled his eyes at the rest. It was not as if he was sending those letters anywhere.

I would. I genuinely would. But I don't think that's going to happen. Because I think you're a coward.

The answer had come though and while the conversation had turned and moved on until “Novilunio” had stopped answering, Dashiell was still hung up on it. It was not even the accusation that had captivated his attention but the fact that there was even the slightest chance of trying to mend what wrongs he had committed. There was never any going back. Once broken it could never be whole again, Reese had taught him that time and time again. But, at the very least he could apologize for both wrongs he had done to this man both in the distant past and more recently. It was the least he could do in a long list of things he should be doing.

In the bedroom his alarm sounded, reminding him it was time to get up and moving. His jaw set firmly in determination, Dashiell dragged himself back to his feet and off to the shower. He had to be at work soon and he had some new questions for Ryul now, namely how did one pen a genuine apology without snark.

Monitors bleeped steadily in a mechanical rhythm all of their own as long fingers drummed out an impatient cadence all of their own upon the wood of the waiting room chair. There were machines for everything here: ones that tracked his heart, ones that breathed for him, ones that kept him drugged enough to not feel a thing. Reese ran a frustrated hand through their hair for the hundredth time and sighed.

Why would he not wake?

They sighed again, resting their elbows on their knees and their head in their hands. This was all their fault. It was their job to ensure the ship and its occupants remained safe and in one piece. Their gift was explosive magic for crying out loud and yet here was Dashiell looking mighty miserable even while unconscious all because Reese had failed him. They could blame him all they wanted for his reckless stunts and trickshot flying but this incident rested wholly and heavily upon their own shoulders.

Will he never wake?

Reese dug their fingers into their eyes, weariness and guilt weighing them down heart and soul. It took them a few moments therefore to notice the extra wheezing coming between each puff of oxygen that had become routine to their ears. The beeps of the ECG accelerating followed by jerky movements and pained whining is what finally got their attention.

"Dashiell," Reese breathed, moving to their feet and coming to stand beside the struggling man. "Quit moving, Dumbshit." They smirked softly though their words lacked their usual snarky venom. "You're in the hospital. There- there was an accident," Reese explained, their expression sad and voice soft as if fighting back tears.

One tangerine eye slid to look up at the sadly smiling face above them and Reese was sure in the way it crinkled that Dashiell was trying to smile back at them. "Yeah you're a sight for sore eyes too. Take it easy alright. Don't try and talk yet. Just try to breathe. Everything will be alright."

Reese was cut off from saying more as a doctor bustled in and up to his other side. "Ah Mr. Feldspar, so good to see you among the living again! You gave us quite a scare. We thought you might not make it after all. How are you feeling?"

Dashiell tried to speak but only a whimper escaped him as he struggled once more to sit up and reach to pull the respirator from his mouth. The more he moved though the more distressed he became as the bandages restricted him.

"Ah please Mr. Feldspar, try and relax. You've suffered extensive injuries and enduried several surgeries but, you should be fine now that you're awake. You have a long healing process ahead of you but, we have complete faith that you'll make a fu-fine recovery," the man chuckled nervously. A low growl was Dashiell's only answer. He had always hated liars.

His gaze moved to look to Reese again who shared a silent eye roll with him. Doctors were always so full of themselves. Around him, the doctor continued to flit and flutter, checking vitals and running tests even as Dashiell began to fade back into unconsciousness again. His last sight was his everything's tired smile.

For weeks after his initial awakening, Dashiell continued to fade in and out of sleep. Always though, like a blessed angel, Reese was there at his side. He did not know the full extent of his injuries, the doctor was very evasive regarding that topic, but regardless they were always there for him. He felt rather like one of those awful mummy things the Aedolians wrapped their dead up as and he was not liking it one bit.

Slowly he began to heal and his body began to regulate itself. It was a good morning when he woke up to the eager face of his doctor explaining that they would remove the breathing tube as his lungs were functioning well enough on their own to no longer need it. After several bracing coughs his voice crackled to life for the first time in ages. It burned and rasped as it broke clear of his chapped lips but it was a relief to finally utter their name.

"....Reese," he called, looking around for their familiar face. He could not understand why they were not there. Had they stepped out to get something to eat? Dashiell had gotten so used to seeing them first thing when he woke up that it was startling to realize just how much time they must have been spending watching over him. He would have to tease them about it later. Something about really being in love with him and not just for the shiny ring and bed rights after all.

Smiling crookedly despite the bandages on his face, the Duo Jockey addressed the doctor then. "Did they step out?" he struggled to ask.

The doctor looked at him quizzically. "Who?"

"Reese," Dashiell croaked again.

The man attending him suddenly went very still and very quiet. "I'm sorry Mr. Feldspar. I thought someone told you." Dashiell's brow furrowed in confusion even as he was met with an expression of pity that turned his stomach. He almost did not hear the man's next words. "I'm afraid that Reese Plantina passed away two weeks ago from their injuries shortly after the explosion. I'm sorry for your loss, sir."

"You're wrong!" he growled, fighting to sit up and rip the IV's from his arms. "They're alive! I saw them!"

"Mr. Feldspar please, you need to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself!"

"They're alive!" he continued to wheeze and howl, struggling to fight the man even as security was called and he was quickly restrained and sedated. "Reese! Reesie! Reese!" His howls became sobs that turned into faint whimpers as tears soaked his bandages and the medications started to take full effect over him.

They couldn't be gone, they just couldn't! He had been seeing Reese every day when he woke. They had been standing right there in the room when the doctor had come to check on him. How could he not see? How could he not understand? What games were these people playing at? Worst of all where was Reese? What had they done to them?

His mind raced in horror as a multitude of scenarios played before his mind's eye. Then, as black crept along his vision, he saw them. Reese leaned down over him, their face set in that same sad smile he had been seeing for weeks now. How pale they seemed, and so very worn and weary. "Reese?" he choked out, trying despite the restraints now on his lone arm to reach for them.

"Goodbye, Dashspar," he thought he heard them say, though their lips never moved even as they faded from view. Darkness claimed him then and for once it was a welcome relief in the face of such devastating realization.

Dashiell had been dancing with Reese's ghost all along.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Laszlo Ventra
Alias Ace, Lacey (DO NOT), Lazarus
Age 29
DOB July 29th
Gender Male
Sexuality SUPER GAY
Species Human
Ethnicity Aedolian
Height 5'9"
Occupation Pilot Cardinal; Margad Scorpion
Residence Margad, Aedolis


__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description

Laszlo has lean, boyish good looks with a pretty face, warm red-brown eyes and long, dark lashes. His brows are thick and square and his hair is a dark, forest green that is almost blue in some lighting. He keeps it cut fashionably though currently it is short on the sides and medium length on top so that he can style it as suits his mood. Laszlo has warm, tanned skin and his cheeks and nose are covered in dark freckles.

His build is tall, lanky, and athletic. He works hard to tread the line of being lean without being too skinny and strong without being all rock-hard muscles. Laszlo claims that there should be some squish with all that muscle because while he is a masterpiece he is not made of marble.

Outside of uniform, his clothes are always stylish and well put together. You're not going to catch him in anything but nice things. This boy isn't going to run around in sweats and holey t-shirts. He is also always wearing a full face of makeup. The colors and exotic designs depend on the day but he is always trying something new and extravagant. It's not all butterflies and rainbows either. Laszlo dresses not only to impress but for the job. He is a Scorpion and the name of their game is terror. The helmet may match the makeup but the entire ensemble fits the agenda of the day.

Additionally, Laszlo has had some body modifications. He has a septum piercing, a tongue piercing, and both his nipples pierced. He also has tattooed on the low of his back a battered and bandaged heart with a pair of angel wings, one bloody, broken and missing feathers while the other is still clean and pure.

Personality

HUMPTY DUMPTY SAT ALL PRETTY ON A WALL
Laszlo is confident, proud, and vain. He takes his appearance very seriously and works hard to keep it just so. He will gladly let you think that the mask he presents on the outside is all there is to him. He is exuberant and warm to the point of being labelled flamboyant. Laszlo is a flirt and never stingy on the compliments if it means making someone smile or roll their eyes. He aims to please and enjoys the attention that his status and appearance afford him. He's a lot smarter than the pretty boy he'll let you think he is though. Great things have always been expected of him since graduation from Candidacy.

HUMPTY DUMPTY HAD A TERRIBLE FALL
Beneath the mask though are deep cracks in his veneer. Abuse broke his spirit some time ago. Laszlo was forced to put on a brave face to the outside world, to pretend the boy with all the smiles still existed inside. His past has turned his naive, blind trust in the good of others into wary caution. There is always that extra second of hesitation where he is analyzing your every word and action to find the ulterior motive. He has seen the darkness of humanity in ways he never imagined from those he thought he could trust the most. As such he has gotten quite good at playing the part assigned to him. Laszlo will gladly play the part of your diva prince, but take care with how hard you push him. You might not like who you find buried beneath the mask.

HUMPTY DUMPTY PUT HIMSELF BACK THE FUCK TOGETHER AGAIN
Free of the shadow of his abusers, Laszlo is doing his best to heal. He attends his therapy sessions which he hates and goes through the motions of being fixed. A lot of it is spent with him painting and his therapist trying to analyze it. It's all a bunch of bullshit in his mind so he's working through his trauma himself. It hurts like hell but he's going to stand tall for as long as he can. Maybe it's faking it until he makes it or maybe he's actually getting better. Laszlo sure as hell isn't sure but he's not giving up yet. There are good days and bad days. When the days are bad he tries to hold off on showing it until he can be alone when he can break and bleed his heart out before getting back up and walking out the door, his happy-go-lucky mask back in place. He still has his flings and his dates though he has some very clear set and unspoken boundaries in place to protect himself. He isn't going to be hurt again but he isn't going to let that stop him from having fun, or that's what he tells himself.

Things

• Spends a lot of his money on manicures and beauty products. Definitely knows his stuff too so honey don't you dare try and sell him last year's winter collection.
• While most of his artistry is applied to makeup, he is also an amateur abstract painter. He has a walkin closet that he uses as a studio and will paint in there when in a mood. Not something he mentions or shares with others.
• Loves music with lots of bass. Often sleeps with headphones on as the vibrations relax him.
• Very much hates being alone and so tries to spend as much time out and about, keeping busy as he can.
• LOVES hard candy and lollipops but finds gum vile. His pockets are usually filled with empty wrappers and extra candies. His favorite flavor is Mango.
• Enjoys theatre productions.
• Favorite squad in the games after the Scorpions is the Alicantos. Definitely would have wanted to become one had times been different and life hadn't gone the way it had.

Magic/Abilities

Telepathy: Laszlo is a weak to moderate telepath. He can communicate back and forth decently enough. The trouble is he's not very good at locking away his own thoughts. It is not uncommon when in an excitable mood that his thoughts will bleed out loud and clear for anyone able to and within range, to hear.

Vibrokinetic: His main ability is in detecting environmental vibrations. His hearing itself is not heightened but rather he feels everything. Every footstep, every heartbeat, every small movement that creates a tremor is his to read and know. Laszlo has gotten very good at differentiating between the sensations to determine individual "signatures" but he is also able to focus enough to tone everything out and follow one "pulse" to its source. His range is large though not necessarily instantaneous. It takes him as long to pick up on a vibration as it takes it to travel from its source to him and the vibrations are weaker depending on distance and resistance in the way.

A secondary and weaker ability linked to his vibrokinesis is the ability to absorb and suppress vibrations around him. For example he can move very quietly simply because he stills the vibrations caused by his feet. He could also potentially stop someone's heart, though that is infinitely more difficult and would take large amounts of concentration.

Relationships

Family: Still home in Apcintoch. He talks with his parents almost weekly and the conversation runs almost the same without fail. He has a good relationship with them and the routine of the calls gives him a feeling of normalcy that he loves. Also has three younger siblings who all still live at home.

Margad Scorpions: His squad are his coworkers and his team. He trusts them to have his back as he has theirs. He’s been through some shit with the older ones and has a great deal of respect for the things they did to help him though he does feel the divide created by the healing process they are all struggling through. It's definitely something he wishes he could talk about with them but feels wouldn't be well received. As for the newer members, Laszlo does his best to be personable and friendly with them. The Scorpions aren't his family but that doesn't mean they can't be his friends.

Braytok: A female dragon with scales that shimmer between yellow and green depending on the light. Her wings are attached to her forelimbs and her tail has extra sails along the end. Her teeth have been replaced with several rows of sharp metal ones. There is also metal plating down her spine as well as all around her entire neck. She is surly on a good day and downright venomous on a bad one. It's been a couple thousand years since she's had a good day.

History

Born and raised in the heart of Apcintoch during the war, Laszlo grew up dreaming of going into fashion and makeup and if he was very lucky one day working with the Pilot war heroes for PR stunts. His ability as a vibrokinetic did not develop until he was older either so it was pretty expected that the scrawny little boy wouldn't ever do much else.

When he was fourteen though it was like a flip switched. The hairs on the back of his neck that used to stand on end only during loud noises or too close encounters were constantly "aware" now with every little movement. It got to the point that he was constantly suffering from vertigo and his parents had to drag him to the doctor for examination. It was only then that his vibrokinesis was discovered and he was re-tested for possible candidacy.

His telepathy was considered borderline but it was still a time of war and Pilots were needed. Laszlo was shipped off to ATC and while it wasn't what he had always dreamed of, he could not be happier. His bright personality earned him friends and his brains got him through his studies. His telepathy improved enough to advance so up and up he went through his stages. Perhaps it was that he was that good or perhaps it was that they were that desperate for recruits but in four years at the age of eighteen, Laszlo was a Pilot Cardinal and a Margad Scorpion at that.

The war may have been closing but there were still insurgents to handle and the Scorpions were in the thick of it. Laszlo could not have been more excited to join the fray, serve is country, and of course look fabulous doing it. How little the lamb knew as he entered the slaughterhouse. The other squad members might have often spoken of their recently fallen brethren Laur who died right before his recruitment, but Laszlo could not help but resent the dead man. After all maybe if he hadn't died then the young man would not have been forced to take his place.

Several years of trauma left their mark when all was said and down though Laszlo will forever be grateful that it is over and done with. It was some time before he was able to come out of his shell but once the shock of it truly being over faded, he threw himself into being "normal" again. It is questionable how much it has helped but day by day he is getting better. He has his squad, old and new and he still has his family. There have been a string of casual boyfriends but he usually runs before things can get too serious, claiming boredom when pushed on the matter.

[NOTE: ONLY SOME HIGHER GOVERNMENT PILOTS AND SCORPIONS MEMBERS WHO LIVED THROUGH THIS ARE AWARE OF WHAT HAPPENED TO GET THE OLD LEADER/COMMANDER ARRESTED. It's probably one of the only things that can sober Laszlo in an instant. He will not discuss it and prefers to ignore it happened. He's moved on and what happened is none of your business.]

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name Joan Archer
Alias NEVER call her Jo
Age 25
DOB November 11th
Gender Female
Sexuality Androsexual
Species Human
Ethnicity Aedolian
Height 5'7"
Occupation Pilot Cardinal; Margad Scorpion
Residence Margad, Aedolis


__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description

Joan has pale skin with sharp, thin features. Her blonde hair is thin and kept shoulder-length or pulled back into a tight ponytail with her bangs constantly slipping out of the tie. She also has warm, brown eyes. Her body is tall and slender and deceptively strong. Life as an acrobat has left her not only flexible but also with a great deal of core control that she works hard to maintain. Her hands wide-splayed and heavily calloused from lots of work using them.

Outside of uniform, her clothes are usually loose and always long. Long pants and long sleeves no matter what the temperature is. She won’t even roll her sleeves up if she is working out or overheated. The cut of her tops are usually boat-neck or v-neck though showcasing her intricate tribal neck and collar tattoo.

This tattoo runs across the tops of her shoulders down to her elbows as well as across her chest and back all the way up her neck and throat. She also has a small scorpion tattooed on the inside side of her right heel and a pair of glowing green eyes with a toothy grin on her left hip. Shine a blacklight on that one and you’ll see the outline of a cheshire cat suddenly appear around the face.

For piercings she has a stud and a hoop in her right nostril as well as a stud in her left nostril. Both ears sport several piercings and hoops. Joan also has a pair of snake bite studs through her bottom lip and a vertical labret through the center of it. Her tongue is also pierced. Along her lowback to mid spine, Joan also has a corset piercing that she has gotten quite good at threading with different ribbons depending on her mood.

Most of Joan’s physical scars cannot be readily seen. If you moved her hair aside you might notice a set of small circular burns behind her ears or along the base of her neck under her hairline. Her arms also each sport from wrist to inner elbow a pair of pale white and somewhat jagged scars. The fingers of both hands also are slightly crooked from having been broken several times over the years.

Joan Archer
Teya Salat Photographed By Daniil Kontorovich

Personality

Joan is a naturally protective and assertive individual. She is resourceful and quick-thinking but much prefers to use her abilities for good rather than harm. Hurting does not come naturally to her though she is well trained in doing so should she need to. Her heart however is in healing and helping. She is very empathetic to the hurts of others and would quietly go out of her way to help them or support them as best as she can.

She is a fierce and loyal friend through and through. She is steadfast in her resolve to you and will suffer no one to cross her. You just need to be honest with her. She does not take lies and secrecy well though if you ask her to keep something private she will take that secret beyond the grave with her.

Joan speaks her mind and does not back down easily in a fight. She is not afraid of you and she will be the first to tell you that too. She hates passive aggressive people and would much rather you say what you mean and mean what you say. Don’t play games with her or try to manipulate her, you won’t like the bitch that comes out to bat the ball back.

Her greatest weakness is probably her dogged determination to know the truth of a matter. She makes her decisions based on facts and will strive to get to the bottom of an issue before trying to act on it. This has gotten her in trouble from time to time with both her dragon and in training for questioning the whys of what was expected of her.

Finally, Joan is a passionate woman in all aspects of her life. This includes her personal life and who she takes to bed with her. Romantically it is unclear if she will ever settle for anyone or even desires to. Sexually though she is all about sensual pleasures and the fire that comes with that aspect of a relationship. Careful though that flame can burn out real quick before she’s onto the next partner(s).

Things

• Has a very high metabolism and is constantly eating. She is also not exactly graceful about it so it's probably smart to keep clear or have a case of napkins handy for the aftermath.
• In conjunction with the above, Joan is a food-hoarder. In her words "you'll never know when there'll be a food shortage or if where you're going will have what you're craving. Best be prepared."
• Favorite food is sweet chili wings. Get into a wing eating contest with her though, she dares you.
• Suffers from sleep paralysis. At best it only happens once a week though that's usually not the case. She makes a habit to never fall asleep anywhere but at home if she can help it.
• Suffers from chronic migraines due to constant emotional bombardment. Can no longer take OTC painkillers and is really strict about not taking prescription ones unless he ABSOLUTELY needs them after an incident.
• Can definitely cram herself into a tiny box.

Magic/Abilities

Telepathy: Joan is a moderate to strong telepath. She can send her thoughts outward just fine but she does best at creating mazes in her mind to compartmentalize her own thoughts and emotions from others. This aspect allows her to better control her empathic abilities as well to keep from going insane.

Empathy: Where some with this gift excel in projecting emotions, Joan possesses the ability to absorb emotions. She is very strong and powerful in this respect to the point that her ability has also splintered to allow for several sub-abilities. She is exceptional at reading the emotions of others as well as feeling them as her own.

• Empathic Absorption: Very strong. This is Joan's main ability. It allows her to absorb the emotions of those around her into her own person. It does run the risk of overpowering and debilitating her though so she is very careful with what she takes as she must process it herself or release it back on others.
• Clairaudience: Strong. If an emotion is expressed strongly enough, Joan is able to not only feel it as her own but also "hear" the forefront thoughts associated with the currently expressed emotion. She cannot hear everything or use it as an avenue to dive into someone’s mind nor is it something that she hears all the time or can stop herself from knowing. But if someone were feeling enough rage she might also pick up on their thoughts claiming to want to kill someone because they’re so angry.
• Empathic Healing:Strong. A rare ability that not even Joan’s mentor possessed. While she is unable to heal physical wounds, she can help heal emotional ones. While for physical wounds she can internalize another’s pain the true art of empathic healing lies in helping to untangle the mess of emotional/mental trauma someone has undergone. The reverse of this would be to take away the things that could heal and leave only the traumas themselves which she was also trained to do though she hates that aspect.
• Empathic Projection: Very weak. Joan can only use this on willing or weak-minded individuals and only when she is in physical contact with them. Forcing it on someone against their will is both exhausting and physically painful to her.
• Empathic Paranormal Detection: Weak. From time to time Joan is able to pick up on the emotions of those long gone that have not passed over whatever existent or nonexistent veil there is. Some days she isn't even sure if she actually is feeling the dead or if she just thinks she is. Don't ask her to reach out to those you've lost. She's not going to try.

Contortionist: A former performing acrobat and contortionist, Joan still possesses the ability to bend herself into a pretzel or tiny spaces. She is very flexible and strong and will use that to her advantage.

Relationships

Parents: Deceased? Not quite so dead after all -.-

Nonna Anna: Joan's deceased grandmother. Nonna raised her in her early days and Joan feels her spirit with her always. There are times where Joan is almost positive she's getting one of her grandmother's warm hugs.

The Ringmaster: Upon her grandmother's death, Joan became a ward of the leader of the acrobatic circus troupe that she had been training and performing with. In public he was the ultimate charmer: a kind soul taking in talented orphans and giving them the chance to become something so much more than they ever could. But, out of the limelight he was a cruel and abusive individual. Joan has made her peace with her past and with him. But, heavens help the fools that ever decide The Ringmaster should be released from jail for good behavior. Joan will fight tooth and nail to ensure he stays there for the rest of his miserable life.

Little Bats: The other performers that Joan learned and grew up with. She loves them all as her siblings. She's kept in contact with them as best as she could through ATC and plans to go to every one of their shows as she is able.

Gosht: A serpentine and squat dragon with very short legs. He is completely white save for three pairs of metal wings that have since replaced his original ones.

History

Joan was predominantly raised by her paternal grandmother, Nonna Anna in Adstreia. She has no memories of her mother and very few of her father. Her Nonna told her he died when she was six though Joan suspects he's still alive and off making her a million and one half-siblings while melting his brain on drugs. When she was younger he called her Jo and his Lil Sting. He would treat her to ice cream and sports events those few times he was ever around. She had loved those special moments though they were few and far between and always ended the same with Nonna chasing him off and telling him to never come back. Eventually he never did.

In the meantime, Nonna Anna enrolled gymnastics classes after school. It was then that Joan's talent for acrobatics and contortions became clear to all. It was not long before a local acrobatic troupe for youth took notice of her and began to offer her additional lessons and attentions for free. Joan loved it. She loved her friends and felt the sense of family with the other "Little Bats" that she had been missing outside of her Nonna.

Quickly became their prized performer for her enthusiasm, passion, and determination made her an inspiration to them all. In truth though, their joy was what brought Joan her own joy. She did not know it then that she was an empath and it would be years before she realized she was.

At 10 the unfortunate happened; Nonna Anna passed away and Joan was left an orphan. Lucky for her though her little troupe and The Ringmaster himself were more than happy to take her in and call her family. The paperwork was quickly signed over and she was adopted in without a blink of an eye. Despite the grief of loss, Joan could not have hoped for a better family to support her.

Without the protection of going home to Nonna at the end of the day though Joan soon learned how quickly things changed once doors were closed and darkness set in. The "kind soul" that had taken the place of parental figure was anything but. He was a cruel men that would use whatever performance money the children earned to feed his own addictions. If the girls didn't work hard enough or push themselves to the limits that he found acceptable they would be punished. Meals were a privilege to be earned instead of an expected and necessary commodity in their lives. There were even times they were pitted against each other with the one to perform better being rewarded with a reprieve from The Ringmaster's wrath.

He was emotionally manipulative and physically abusive to them all. Though he was wise and careful enough to never leave lasting marks. The girls were all well-trained too to believe this was all for their betterment, to thank him for his time and considerations because who else would help them to be so happy and successful if not him?

Joan was smart though. Unlike many of the others, she had had the love of a true parent. Nonna had taught her well and so Joan did what she could to help the other children. When they were supposed to be sleeping she would tell them happy little stories, unconsciously in those moments pulling the pain and despair from them as she left behind only joy and peace. Everything she did was to encourage them and keep them safe as best as she could.

She was 16 when she was old enough to finally go head to head with him. Up until that point Joan had kept a record of every infraction. As the oldest of the children she was given the ultimatum to either "graduate" into a new business venture as the girls before her had and unknowingly be sucked into a life of sexual acrobatic performances or to remain behind and assist in keeping the other children in line. Joan pretend to be enamored with her current lifestyle and desiring not to leave it, begged to stay.

The price to pay was she did become The Ringmaster's partner in more ways than one. It was worth it though as she gained the freedom to run errands for him. It was nearly a year but the first chance she got, she reported him to the authorities and begged for help. It would be the last time she saw her Little Bats for a long time though.

She was heavily interrogated, made to tell her story over and over again. Each reiteration caused her more and more stress as the time passed too. Joan stayed firm though. It was the right thing to do. But, as the hours ticked by she broke over her worry for her friends. They brought in a psychoanalyst as she became hysterical and that was when it became evident that Joan was more than just a hysterical young woman, she was an empath and a telepath and she had most certainly had enough of the "humor her" games.

Joan was assured things would be taken care of even as she was put through a series of tests to assess her own strengths. From there it was a whirlwind of people and places and things until finally she was dropped off and enrolled at the ATC. Candidate Joan Archer had gone to report a crime and had her life changed completely different from how she had expected.

Those first nights were hell. She was scared and alone feeling with no idea if the girls she claimed as her sisters were alright or had even been punished by the man meant to protect them all because she had disappeared. Had she sentenced them all to a living hell with her actions meant to help them? no one knew or even seemed to care as she pleased with them to tell her or find out for her. She was informed she was a Candidate and had bigger things to focus on and that it would be best if she fell in line or risk worse.

Two months into Stage 1 and Joan ended up cutting herself from wrist to inside elbow on both arms in an attempt to take her own life. She felt such overwhelming despair between the stress of not knowing, the oppressing environment, and the emotions she was constantly being bombarded with from her fellow Candidates.

Her attempt failed and she lived. Joan ended up healing and after some serious reassessment was determined to still be a viable Candidate, if a heavily monitored one. Determined, to get out as soon as she could to get back to her girls who she had been informed were indeed alright, Joan threw herself into Candidate life. Stage 2 was a little bit of a struggle though it was Stage 4 she suffered the most with.

Joan was a natural healer and as her gifts expanded and developed this became more and more evident. However her mentor wanted to hone her gift of healing and helping into a weapon to attack and hurt. Instead of absorbing negative emotions she was pushed to take away positive ones and send her victims into a state of despair and fear. It was very upsetting for her and difficult to wrap her mind around until she started imagining doing it to people like The Ringmaster. That turned out to be the breakthrough that got her through Stage 4 and well into Stage 5. Eventually she was chosen by a dragon and the rest as they say is history. She wanted to be a healer but the dragons had different plans for her. Instead she was sent off to serve as a combat operative, a job that she has thrown herself into doing to the best of her ability. It may not be what she wanted but she will make the best of it.

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• One Hell of a Welcome

Jesse,

I miss you.

I know you'll never see this and it's all for me but I miss you so much. I can't help but think it's my fault, that I could have done something, that I should have done something more. Cabe says otherwise but I was a terrible friend to you, to both of you. I'm working on that though. Too little, too late but maybe I can be better for him the way I should have been for you. I'm sorry. I hope that if there is something beyond this physical shell of existence that I'll get a chance to tell you that in person, that one day I'll get to hug you again and beg your forgiveness as I should have done in life. One days and somedays, right? Ha.

The mice are doing well. The cage was a bitch though you beautiful bastard. Ren had to help me with it. You would have liked him. I'm sure if all three of you boys got together not even the rains of Samariel could have saved this dome from your chaos. He's been good to Cabe and I though I think. Perhaps he's the angel you've sent to us in your absence, or whatever spiritual hullabaloo exists. I don't know anymore. We never really talked about faith. What's the point in this world of flashing lights, pounding music, and buzzing technology, right? I just know I feel so adrift these days. Cabe's gone and now so are you. Why am I always the one left behind, Jesse? Why am I cursed to always remember while others forget?

Goddess above how I miss you right now. You always knew what silly thing to say or do to have me rolling my eyes. Did you know I secretly loved it? I hope you did. I hope you knew how much I cared for you, how blessed I felt to have you in my life. I shouldn't have taken that for granted. I should have taken the time to tell you more. We know better than anyone how fleeting the time we have is.

I was talking about the mice though hahaha. I named them. Mitra and Amice. I thought you would get a kick out of the second one. The names mean friend or so I'm meant to believe. Perhaps it's fitting that my only friends now will be these sweet, precious babies. I promise I won't fail them or you this time. They will be the most spoiled babies ever now. And you were right, they are the most snuggly little balls of fluff ever. They love to curl up in the hood of my jacket and sleep against the back of my neck. I bought them each a ball to play in too but they tend to just follow me about as I clean when I'm home. Thank you for them. I don't think I deserve them, but I am grateful for your trust in me.

Not just your trust either, I'm grateful for all that you were in my life, colleague, friend, family. I'm glad I made your life meaningful and I hope that you understand how much you mean to me, how important you were and still are to me. I will never forget you. You have my word on that, Jesse River. No matter who they make me or what I do, I will never forget all you've done for me and all you are to me. Be at peace my dear friend. I've lit some incense for you, peppermint. It's the closest I could get to those awful menthols you always smoked. I hope it's enough.

I love you, Jesse. <3 Goodbye for now.

Your favorite mouse-girl,
Jain

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Odetta Dreishi
Alias Various; Nightingale
Age 1465
DOB February 22nd
Gender Genderfluid; Accepts any and all pronouns
Sexuality Demisexual bordering on asexual
Species Starstrider Elf
Ethnicity ?
Height 5'10"
Occupation Whatever they can find for work
Residence Somewhere Safe
Voice Claim Liv Tyler as Arwen


__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description

Tall, gangly, and almost brittle looking, Odetta looks like the gentlest of winds would knock them clean over. They are always freezing and their hands often ache from being so numb and chilled all the time. Their skin is ashen and their hair a silvery, white that reaches down to midback in choppy waves. Their face has a gaunt, haunted appearance with their pale silvery blue eyes set rather sunken into their face. Deep bruising beneath speaks of all their sleepless nights.

For anyone that can catch a true glimpse of their face it is telling that they have seen better days. The right side of their neck and throat bears extensive scarring. Matching scar marks run vertically over their right eye, starting above their brow and then arcing down and outward across their cheek. These are not their only scars though, just the most visible. Odetta also has a long scar across their abdomen and a huge Y-shaped one across their chest. Finally over their upper heart is a bloodport that many of their kind use during nursing.

Their attire consists of whatever they can get their hands on that will allow them to best blend in with the strangers around them. They will be whoever and whatever they need to be in order to survive

Personality

Odetta is a quiet and hardworking individual. They keep their head down and go about their business without bothering others. Confrontation and physical contact make them very skittish and wary. Too many questions or too much interest and they will disappear faster than snow in summer. There is always a tenseness about them as if they are constantly looking over their shoulder expecting to see the devil himself standing there, but then again perhaps they are.

There was a light in them somewhere long, long ago but it is very possible that died along with part of their soul once upon a time. Today they are unpredictable and easily spooked. Handle with care because you never know how long it'll be before they're gone.

There is also at times a great deal of innocence in Odetta. They are not nearly as naive and trusting as they once were but there are still things in this world that they've missed out on and references they don't always get.

Things

• Suffers from depression and as a result never seems to have much of an appetite.
• Really loves children and is always willing to give some advice to a new or worried parent.
• Works the night-shift and so keeps very odd hours.

Magic/Abilities

Resonance-Be-Gone: Due to severe trauma and a magical procedure done against their will, Odetta is unable to "hear" the souls of their people. They have no way of knowing either if they are still resonating or if that had been taken from them as well.

Relationships

Family: Status Unknown

Babies: Odetta has had several out of resonance babies over the years though they have no idea if any of them are alive or what happened to them as they were taken from them at some point after birth. They try not to think about them as the pain of loss sits very strongly with them.

Resonance: Someone out there in the universe is supposed to be Odetta's one and only forever. They have no way of knowing if they're even still alive. Due to their past, they aren't sure whoever it is would even want them anyway. Resonancy is the last thing on their mind these days though. They have long since given up hoping for that fairy-tale. Their luck their resonance is either long dead or someone other than a Starstrider. There is no hope for them finding each other in Odetta’s mind.

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing: A creature of cruel and dark intentions that preyed on their fears and desire to get what they wanted; part of Odetta’s soul. They are constantly on the run for fear of them finding Odetta and finishing the job. They were never meant to get away after all.

History

Odetta was born to House Procyon to a happily resonated couple a very long time ago. Those early days are a far and near forgotten memory though. A century or so after reaching the age of Resonance and still very much alone, they found themself becoming distressed and desperate. It was at this time that a so-called Good Samaritan came to their aid. The being promised Odetta that they could find their Resonance for them. All they needed from them was time and some of their blood.

Naive and foolish child that they were, they readily agreed. Odetta was never the same again after that day. They were far from the first person to be sucked into the monster's web nor were they likely to be the last. They made Odetta their puppet. Odetta was forced to breed and have children, an act that drained them physically and kept them relatively complacent outside of the influence of the drugs constantly pumped into their system.

The true horror though was that instead of making good on their promise, the creature was instead feeding on Odetta's soul. They were sucking the life energy right out of them with each passing day. The process was slow though and for centuries Odetta was left adrift, never really knowing if they lived or died or how the time passed. Lucidity was near non-existent but as long as Odetta could still hear the faint whispers of their soul echoing back to them, there was hope.

The day there was nothing to hear but silence is when they startled back into conscious existence. It was like coming up for air after drowning beneath the crashing waves. Their entire being shrieked with pain like they had never felt before. The creature having grown used to their comatose compliance, had long since forgone the restraints and therefore was caught rather off-guard by the sudden fire displayed in their aperitif.

To this day, they still aren't sure how they managed to overpower the monster and make their escape. There are bits and pieces of memory, though they do their best not to dwell on them. The first memory they have now of their new lease on life is of their hands covered in a dark sludge as they cowered behind several crates on a freighter ship. Ever since Odetta has been bouncing around from place to place, never staying too long and always doing whatever jobs they could find that would leave them inconspicuous.

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A sharp knock at the door had Jain scuttling to answer it. The handled turned and she smiled warmly in greeting. "You're early!" she exclaimed before pausing and blinking in surprise. A mail courier smiled sheepishly in return, looking very much not who she was expecting. Jain quickly apologized, exchanging bland pleasantries as she scanned her chip over the monitor and collected her packages from him.

"Someone must really love you," he chirped at her with a knowing wink. "That small one has the cutest little noses that kept poking out at me. You should probably open it first," he continued with a laugh before waving goodbye.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she shut the door and set the larger of the two packages along with the thick envelope on the table. The smaller one indeed had something living in it for she could feel and hear the poor dear scurrying about inside. Carefully, Jain popped the lid open and peered inside. Four beady little eyes stared back up at her from the furthest corner of the box. She smiled fondly at them and whispered a soft greeting before carefully closing the lid again.

"I'll be right with you little ones."

A quick glance at the time revealed she still had a good fifteen minutes or so before Cabe and Ren were due to arrive. That would be more than enough time to find out what the box and cute little furballs were all about. She tore into the letter quickly, her brows knitting further and further in confusion with each line she read.

"Pilot Echo Dau," she read aloud in a hurried murmur. "Please find enclosed the following items, bequeathed to you following the death of Pilot Echo Jesse River, pursuant to the instructions left in his Last Will and Testament. WHAT?" she shouted in confusion. "Jesse what kind of fool game are you playing with me this time?"

Her eyes skimmed almost unseeingly over the inventory before she was flipping the page to read the attached letter. Jain would recognize that handwriting anywhere. It really was Jesse. With each word she read, her eyes began to prickle and her throat tighten. Several places her voice cracked as she choked back ears but still continued to the end. Even in death he had still made her laugh and shake her head at him. She had had to take a moment and roll her eyes at whether fish had heartbeats or not.

"I love you too," Jain choked out, clutching the pages close to her chest. "Oh, Jeese-" no further words passed her lips as her legs turned to water forcing her to sink to the carpet in the middle of her living room. For several long minutes, Jain found herself fighting back the tears as she stared blindly at the ceiling. She needed to pull herself together. But, oh how her heart continued to shred and shatter with every breath.

Another look over the attorney's letter confirmed what Jesse had stated in his own letter regarding the contents of the larger box. With shaking hands and unfeeling determination she quietly worked at opening it and pulling out the metal walls of the disassembled cage. It seemed she had two more visitors to house than she had previously intended. The least she could do was to ensure they had a safe haven to run and play in rather than the small cardboard box with holes meant for temporary animal transport.

Tears blinded her quickly as she fought to lock the metal sides together and into the plastic base. Jain sniffled and gulped down the pain as best as she could but it was no use. With cage pieces scattered around her on the floor she broke down fully and completely. Her hands covered her face as she rocked back and forth on her knees, softly wailing now that the initial shock wore off and the truth sunk in.

Alcohol poisoning the paperwork had said. Jesse had died alone and been left to be discovered days later. What kind of friend was she to not have noticed, to not have reached out to him sooner, to have let his silence mean he was unwilling to forgive her? Had she driven him to this? Was she such a horrible monster that he had had to drink himself to death to escape the guilt she had made him feel for their last quarrel?

Jain's mind raced ahead without her as she desperately tried to process how this could have even happened. Of all the people she had lost, she had never dreamed that Jesse would be next and so soon. It was one thing to die in the field; there were so many risks that came with their job. But, Jesse had not died as he had hoped in some sting gone wrong or some shoot 'em up like in the movies. He had died alone when all it would have taken for the story to be changed was her showing up at his door and refusing to leave. Instead of making him those stupid cupcakes she should have tried to talk to him. She should have done something. Anything would have done to make sure he was okay. Why hadn't she done something?

In the space of five minutes her world had come crashing down around her and everything else was forgotten. Nothing else mattered when Jain felt so incredibly small and alone in the world again. How could it when she had lost a dear loved one? Each breath was a struggle as her heart hammered against her ribs, feeling as if it would tear right out of her chest. Jain almost wanted it to if it meant the end of her pain, the end of her grief and sorrow.

"Jesse, I'm so sorry. Please don't be gone. Please I'm sorry. I'll be a better friend just don't leave me. Oh goddess, why? Why Jesse? Why did it have to be him? Why like this? No, no, no, no," she murmured through the heavy sobs, not even realizing how she begged and cried aloud as she was deaf to everything save the unending beat of her own heart.

KNOCK KNOCK

Dear Mr. D. Feldspar,

We are writing to you on behalf of our client, Mx. Reese Plantina. Please find enclosed their items bequeathed to you as per their last will and testament. Should you have any questions or concerns, our offices can be found in corridor 258A.

Our sincerest condolences regarding your loss,
Leafster, Leafster, & Branch