Remnants of the Earth

Anything he wanted? He would have to think about that... maybe they could make pancakes with chocolate chips and a smiley face like in restaurants... maybe they could even go out to eat like a family. Yeah. That's what he wanted, a family breakfast. Where they sat together and talked about what they were going to do for the day, and all smiled at each other. Like on TV. He kept thinking about that as he was carried off to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, half asleep already.

He thought about what he had for breakfast this morning while he was carried to the bed. An omelet the cook made for him, he ate it alone while Circiel had some coffee and watched the news. She never ate breakfast, and to be fair he often chased her off when she tried to eat lunch or dinner with him and have a conversation with him. Part of him knew she was trying, but he just wanted it to come from his mom instead. Or his dad. He had given the cook a hard time too...

They had been fighting again. That's all they ever did. They didn't eat meals together, they didn't ask how the day was, they didn't look at drawings, they didn't tuck him in at night... they didn't even notice he was gone. They didn't do any of the stuff parents on TV did. Was it cause he wasn't good enough to deserve it?

Sevrin was frowning and he didn't even realize it till he looked up at his uncle who wanted to hear about how he got here. "It wasn't that exciting. Circiel caught me sneaking out and she wanted to take me home but I didn't want to go home... so we took a cab over here." He shifted a bit closer to Glover and let his heavy eyelids close... even though he definitely wasn't sleepy. His eyes were just tired.

"Uncle Glover... can I just live with you?"

Jack met his second's gaze. It was hard to do. He felt like Jonesy's hand on his jaw would be poisoned by the truth he just spoke. He expected the other man to flinch and pull away in pain. Instead it was Jack who pulled away first.

He sniffled a bit and rubbed his eyes on the back of his arm. "No. Not on purpose. But it was still my fault he-" Jack swallowed hard. "He went into that cloud and... I never got an all clear that he was through it but. I turned the cloud to icicles anyway.

He held one side of his face with hit palm, a balled up fist wiping at his other eye. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad that Laur died. I killed him.. and Valdemar covered it up, so he could hold it over my head like a fucking sword all these years. I killed our brother. I don't deserve anyone's respect Jones. Laur should be here instead of me."

{NAME}
Cecil Aubrim

{ALIASES}
'Puppy' 'Golden boy' (sarcastically) "Goldie"

{AGE}
29

{GENDER, SEXUALITY}
Male
Hasn't really thought about it, has done it on occasion with both males and females

{SPECIES/ETHNICITY}
Born a werewolf in the Midhaven.

{HEIGHT/BUILD}
5'8, skinny- too skinny

{OCCUPATION}
Whatever the pack says to do, junkie

{RESIDENCE}
The Midhaven



{PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION}
Tawny brown shaggy, shoulder length hair with a lack of a proper hair cut, naturally wavy and always messy. Cecil has golden big doe / sad puppy eyes with perpetual dark circles under them. His face is angular, his ears slightly pointed, and his skin is mocha colored but almost constantly looks pallid. He is too skinny and looks lanky in both his 'human' appearance and his werewolf form.

Cecil has a scar along the right side of his neck that looks like it was fairly deep. His most notable feature is his lame right leg. It was crushed when he was younger and 'healed' wrong.

{PERSONALITY}

I CAN QUIT ANY TIME
Cecil became addicted to painkillers when he was young and got hurt protecting his alpha (his father was alpha of the pack back then). Since then his addiction has morphed into just about anything he can get from Haviah. He is always looking for a fix. Anything to forget. Anything to not feel.

HOWL AT THE MOON
He is a werewolf!!! This doesn't mean he is a mindless rampaging, rapid like creature when transformed however. He is more animalistic when transformed but he would not attack unless provoked or told to. Since he was born a werewolf he has more control in this state than those who are turned.

DON'T KICK THE PUPPY
More of a puppy than a wolf. Cecil is very tame and behaves for not only members of his pack but basically anyone he encounters. He is submissive and will roll over for anyone up in Haviah (especially if they will give him his next fix). He is more wary of others down in the Midhaven and will flee as best he can from strangers down there. He doesn't really hunt either, especially given his disability and instead helps the pack in other ways. Especially being the target of their aggression as the pack's omega.


Fun Facts!:
Will add later!


{SPECIAL ABILITIES}
He is a werewolf!!


{RELATIONSHIPS}
Domnall “Darlin'” Coire, Beta Wolf, his protector.

Parnell Aubrim- Father, former pack alpha, deceased


{HISTORY}
Will add later.

Hello and welcome! Please feel free to ask any questions you may have! There is a lot of great site lore to read and an awesome place to start are the links under The Universe in the header.

I do have one suggestion... Not sure if you fixed it already but the picture in your first character profile is very large and makes it difficult to read the information about your character. Also please check out our art usage policy just to make sure it follows all the rules! Hope you have lots of fun here!

Hi! Welcome to RotE! Everyone here is really nice (and if the aren't let me know lol) so feel free to ask any questions you might have! The links on the header are all really helpful and great over views to start! A lot of people also tend to make wanderers first and delve into the more extended lore later but having an overview understanding of the universe and various canon locations definitely helps!

I hope you have lots and lots of fun here! And seriously... most of us don't bite! <3

Sevrin was beaming proudly. "I drew it from memory." He said to Wil and his uncle leaned against him and praised him. They both praised him. Sevrin decided that this Wil lady (?) was nice after all.

Circiel had said she liked it too but Circiel didn't count. Uncle Glover and this stranger did though. Mostly uncle Glover. "See? That's a house for us to live in." He explained to his uncle pointing at the picture and smiling as it was put away for safe keeping. His uncle was going to frame it and hang it up! He didn't voice that he wanted to be an artist though. Because it was dumb and he was a mage so he couldn't be an artist, he had to be a mage and do some typical mage job. But uncle Glover didn't have a typical mage job, cause he was a special kind of mage too.

When his uncle mentioned it being late and Circiel looking beat, Sevrin hid his face against Glover's arm and hugged it tight, as if to say 'I'm not leaving' without saying it.

When nothing else was said by the kid Circiel paused in drinking her coffee and frowned a little looking between Glover and Wil. She sensed their visit had interrupted something happening between the two and didn't for a second believe the lamp post story like Sevrin did, but she wasn't about to pry into a the business of two detectives. As a bodyguard herself she understood. Of course part of her appeal to her employers was that she didn't look like a bodyguard despite her skill. "There were some...disturbances at the Daniel's estate tonight. He doesn't want to go home. He just wanted to come here." She explained since Sevrin wouldn't.

For the few weeks that he had been in psych they had really worked on a lot. The military personnel who worked in the department and even other Pilots who did, were much nicer and more understanding than he thought they would be. He was certain he would be told he didn't deserve to be a Pilot, or that he was a disgrace. They never treated him like that. The stigma of ending up here was so high for any military- especially Pilots, that he couldn't have known it was like this.

If you needed therapy you weren't a good soldier. It was a common thought process, one they had been disarming during his stay and replacing with 'You need help so you can be a better soldier'. That was all he wanted to be. Well that and with Chance.

Feelings were complicated. Especially for an empath. He always thought he was a failure if he didn't perfectly understand emotions, because he was supposed to. Apparently that was a false truth too. He had learned that feelings and comprehension of feelings were often at war. The very nature of his empathy should make it harder to understand various motivations of feelings and rationalize them; since he often got swept up by the emotions of others, but they said he displayed remarkable insight into them. Remarkable. No one had ever called anything to do with his work remarkable. He was a rank locked foreign born Pilot Cardinal.

He learned that psychologists within the ministry looked over all the reports of his visions and were impressed by his interpretations of them. They didn't see him as a failure. They thought he should have been coming here for regular therapy, just to decompress, since he became a Pilot. In hindsight, that sounded so smart.

He had been learning so much, about himself; about how the feelings of others, as well as his own feelings, affected him. How he suppressed his own emotions in favor of projecting an outward appearance of joy as both a defense mechanism and for the sake of others. Which was why sometimes he just didn't realize his own feelings at all. How he had post traumatic stress from his visions. How that wasn't ridiculous, because of how real they felt, even if the events didn't physically happen to him, they certainly did emotionally. And that wasn't something to dismiss.

For most of his stay though he was restricted to his room, not because he was deemed a danger to himself or others, but because the emotional states of other patients were deemed a danger to him. The past few days however, he was allowed to participate in group therapy with a few patients.

The staff here had managed to teach him techniques he never learned in the ATC. How to sort and rationalize the feelings of others as they influenced him, as opposed it in hindsight. How to better feel his own emotions simultaneously. They knew it wouldn't help with visions, two of which he had in the past few weeks, but it would help with his day to day empathy as apposed to just trying to block it all out.

He was really starting to feel better, in a way no drug or alcohol ever made him feel. In a way only Chance did. He missed Chance. He wondered if that stupid free write letter they had him write even got sent to Chance. That wasn't the point of the exercise of course but he couldn't help but think about it. Worry if he said something stupid and Chance had read it. Worry that it hadn't been sent and Chance thought Jon was ignoring him...

The most clear thing to him now after learning how to read his own emotions better, was that he had been in love with Chance for a long time, but just like his crush on Temple it took him so long to realize it. Temple was always going to be special to him. Temple was his first crush, and his friend. He never allowed himself to grieve Temple, he never allowed himself to grieve anyone, and the denial and grief triggered his downward spiral. Temple was gone. But he had actually begun moving on romantically before Temple even died. The shock of Temple's death was just... Just as shocking as learning ATOS and everyone he had known before coming to Aedolis was dead.

And that, that was something he hadn't grieved either. The loss of all his friends and family. The loss of his home. The doctors told him it did not make him less of an Aedolian, less of a patriot, or less of a Pilot to mourn such a huge loss. He had cried when he was told that, and all he wanted was Chance there to hold him.

Chance who the doctors swore was doing well. Gods he missed him. He pictured seeing him a thousand times. What would he say to him? Would Chance even want to listen? The letter Chance had sent was beautiful, and it had taken a whole therapy session for him to start believing any of those things Chance said was true, or that he was even worthy of Chance. He still felt Chance deserved better, but then his therapist said 'If that is how you feel than be better Jon. If someone loves you and you love them, you don't push them away because of your preconceived notions of what they need or what is best for them.'

How had he been so stupid? How had he not thought of it that way? He just wanted to hug Chance tight and tell him how sorry he was, how much he loved Chance and how he was going to rise to face the warm light of Chance's love, even if they would never be together again. Because Chance's feelings mattered too.

Yes. That was what he was going to tell him. They said Jon would probably be released in the next few days, he had about a dozen more free write letters for Chance, written on old fashioned paper in good old felt tip pen. Some were very repetitive, some were about them, some were just about his day and things he had learned in Psych. But they were all for Chance.

Today had been a pretty lazy start. He had more free time since they were weaning him off the constant various therapy sessions since he would hopefully be leaving soon and down to only a few a week as an outpatient. He wasn't on any 'medications' really. They had gone the more herbal rout to balance hormones and brain chemicals given his history of abusing antidepressants. He was doing better, he was starting to manage. That didn't mean he didn't want to sleep in when he could get away with it even though they were trying to re instill the sense of routine he had as a candidate and when he first became a Pilot.

Which was why he had a bed head and was just lazing about in his room when his surprise visitor appeared in his doorway after the same sort of courtesy knock the staff here might do... but in their rhythm. He almost doubted his ears when he heard it but seconds later there he was. The greatest person in Aedolis.

Even that little smile made his heart leap and his own mouth broke into a beaming one. "Chance." He couldn't help himself. He was up and over to him without realizing he had even moved, but his arms were around the Pilot Echo, hugging him close. "Gods I missed you so much." Was all he could think to say, not processing much else as he closed his eyes, freeing a few tears.

He understood that. Well on some level. There was never anyone special in Lenny's life but he figured based on the evidence, Pilot Cardinal Rheeves was special to Chance. "I have an idea. What if you use the wheel chair and then we leave it outside his room? He doesn't have to see you in it. Deal?"

He didn't want to make Pilot Echo Kiers use a wheelchair if he didn't want to, but he really didn't want to hear about it from Gerard later either.

[Open by request]

It wasn't that Rando hated Haviah. He just didn't like it. It was a very different feel in a both subtle and obvious ways. The general belief was that all Pilots were supposed to love Haviah. It was Pilot central after all.

He preferred Aurora. Even growing up on the streets afraid of getting jumped at any moment for any number of reasons couldn't take away his love for his hometown. There was no love spared for his old neighborhood, but where he lived as a gamer and now as a Pilot, it was much nicer than the dizzying heights of Haviah. Even if he did just stay in the upper levels.

He had been here a on multiple occasions since graduating but usually with the entire Cyclones squadron to do something or other for PR. Staring out one of the Citadel windows in a Ministry meeting room was a very different feeling.

He almost didn't hear what the other Pilot had said to him. Some Pilot Echo Xavijin? Was that their name? He didn't even remember. His mind had traveled out that window and was flying so far out over the city that he was actually floating off of his chair without realizing it. It didn't take a psychic to see that he was zoned out and not listening. As soon as the sentence 'So your father's parole is coming up' left the minister's lips he was gone.

"Pilot Emem? Did you hear what I asked you?" That head of sunset colored hair tilted at him from across the table and he looked over to the Pilot Echo, blinking for a moment, agitated as if he had just awoken from a nightmare.

"I'm sorry what were you saying?" Bertrando said trying not to sound annoyed, trying to be a well behaved and good respectful Pilot like he had been taught. It was hard for him not to wear his emotions on his sleeve though, it was something he was more than capable of but it took actual concentration and never came to him as easily as it did for many other Pilots.

"I asked if you were interested in submitting anything either for or against your father's parole and if you would like to view the parole hearing next month."

He stared across the table, completely dumbfounded by this. "If I want to... no. No I don't. I want nothing to do with any of this. I haven't spoken to my father in eighteen years. I never tried to visit him in jail. I never wanted to. I still don't. If this is all you wanted to see me for may I be dismissed?"

Pilot Xavijin frowned a little, opened their mouth to say something and then shut it again. "You're dismissed Pilot."

"Thank you." He said saluting before fluttering out of there, almost forgetting the helmet to his flight suit. He had come with Zirconium, as it was the fastest and most efficient way for a Pilot to travel from Aurora to Haviah and it still took a nice chunk of time. The plan was to stay over night and head back to Aurora in the morning. It seemed Zirconium was looking forward to staying in the Citadel tonight. Something about wanting to see this puppy for themselves or something.

Rando could care less. Right now he just wanted to get away from these offices. Away from the Citadel. Away from Haviah.

His cheeks felt wet as he reached the elevator and he looked up to see if a sprinkler was going off or there was a leak from the floor above him. Nothing. He wiped away the little drops that were apparently coming from his eyes. When had he started crying? He pressed the button for the elevator again hastily and pulled out his phone to text Vasili, unsure what to say but just wanting to talk to him.

Tucking his helmet under his arm he messaged his boyfriend a simple 'Hey' and when an elevator still hadn't arrived he pressed the button five more times in rapid succession.

Lennox scrolled through the file a bit more trying to get through this efficiently and quickly for both their sakes.

There was no point asking about Chance's eye today as far as he was concerned since there was a note about Gerard wanting a specialist to look at it next week, and if it was hurting Chance he would have said as much. "Alright then I just need to do a quick x-ray of your leg and write you a prescription for some light physical therapy and we are all set as long as you don't have any questions for me."

Before Chance had a chance (heh) to ask any questions he took out a long metal tube that pulled out like an old fashioned map scroll and hovered in the air above Chance's leg. It took all of 10 seconds to take the x-ray and it was automatically sent to Lenny's tablet. He put away the device and looked at the picture on his screen, adding it to Chance's medical file. "Ok looks about right. I will email you the exercises you can start doing at home, with supervision, and... done. So then. Do you want a wheel chair? Psych is a far walk from here."

He didn't intend for it to be a test but he had a feeling Chance would turn down the wheel chair offer, even though Gerard would probably be upset if Chance walked all the way down there. It was a matter of Pilot pride though too wasn't it?