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Post by Duske, Claudio on Aug 9, 2011 7:37:12 GMT -6
 THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )Claudio.[/font][/size] Jeremiah.[/size][/font] Duske.[/font][/size][/center] My.Scars.Are.Merely.A.Witness.
Oh, let the memories fade. Let's play a game full of melancholy. Each morning, Jeremiah awakes with less rest than before he went to bed. He felt as if he were the only one who understood wounds as big as his. Though, he'd never tell anyone of his troubles. Memories of his father abandoning him haunted him in his wake, let alone his unconscious realms. Jeremiah shook the feelings away, tucking them deep within his heart. Hidden. He would find his sister one day, and soon thereafter, his father would pay. Besides, being in the Brotherhood wasn't so bad.
They were like family, only with more backstabbing and less board game. But truly, how long before these mutants fade from his life as well? Contemplation was always an issue for Omen. But seeing what the future held was not. Though, seeing what one's not supposed to know is not a painless process. If one could imagine a quake of agony, a searing blaze running straight through the brain; that would be the consequences of seeing the future. They warned him of unfortunate dangers. Though, his ability is slightly different than that of other seers. He sees only decisions made. If a mind is changed, the future will change as well. It's a complicated process.
It's humorous to be so miserable a soul when you can see the future. You'd think that life made you happier, given that you can avoid such dangerous situations. But this seemed hardly the case. Jeremiah tugged at his coat. He looked around, there was no one in the common room. Not that there were many members of the Brotherhood, but there's usually at least one person here. He frowned.
This day is going by so slowly. [/blockquote][/blockquote] THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • ) W O R D S • 630
T A G G E D • The Brotherhood
O U T F I T •click!
[/color] L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION[/color] N O T E S • Tag.You're.It.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Terri 'Tribal' Valiant on Aug 9, 2011 22:02:34 GMT -6
 
How long had she slept? Probably a lot longer then she had planned. Terri rolled over, leaving the blankets on her bed in a tangle. She had the strangest dreams - Roland was in them, with Wolverine and Charles Xavier, and she couldn't clearly remember them. Trying to made her head hurt. In fact, her pounded - like some very tiny man with a very large drum had taken up residence behind her eyes.
Swallowing hard, Terri wiggled her feet into her slippers and stretched. Fishing up her robe and dropping it over her PJs as well as her wings, she made a face at the flavor in her mouth. Thankfully, the rooms had bathrooms - she took a moment to brush her teeth and run a brush threw her hair. She considered putting on real clothing, the picked against it. Real clothing would mean she was awake enough to face training or practice - either was a good idea with her stomach.
Sadly, she wanted something to drink. Coffee, or tea. Reminding herself she needed to blow a little money on a coffeemaker for her room (and maybe a mini-fridge) she fumbled the lock open to her door and all but stumbled into the common room. She blinked around at how bright it seemed and gave a sigh. Pulling the door shut, she noticed the other in the room. She managed a sleepy smile. "Morning..."
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Post by Duske, Claudio on Aug 11, 2011 3:29:04 GMT -6
THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )Claudio. [/font][/size] Jeremiah.[/size][/font] Duske.[/font][/size][/center] Veins. Filled. With. Venom.
You can't play the victim if there's no crime. Omen took a seat on the large couch, continuing in his thoughts. It seemed that there was nothing here to tear him from such a thing, so he pursued what he did do well: Over analyze. Soon, however, the lids of his eyes would flutter. They seemed so heavy. Perhaps they have twenty-five pound weights on them. He was slowly drifting into sleep.
Next stop, unconscious. He dreamed of his sister, and how his family might get in the way of their bond. However, there was nothing like a twin's bond. He could smell her, sense her, see her from vast distances. Though, he'd not sensed her in a very long time. It saddened him, though you'd never be able to tell it. Omen was a shell, hardly ever revealing emotions to anyone, let alone the brotherhood, those to which may use his emotions against him. That was something, by all costs, that would never happen to him.
He jolted awake. How long had he been out? An hour, two? He looked at his watch, silver with an aqua crystalline background. "Only fifteen minutes? Shit." He said with distaste. The least he could do was get some rest, right? Wrong. He couldn't rest. Memories clouded his mind like the plague. He was a magnet for bad news. Hence the code-name, "Omen." Granted, that could be perceived as a name for a seer. Having a third eye definitely had it's benefits. "Morning..."
He eyed the girl carefully. It wasn't lack of trust that made him skeptical. Well, yes it was. He just couldn't trust himself. Let alone another mutant. And, the brotherhood members screwed one another over so many times, who knew that one could trust any of them?
"Hi." He responded, a little more chipper than he had intended." Nice going, genius. He said grinning. He couldn't help but find humor in the small things. It was a massive part of who he was. Sarcasm, too. "I'm Omen, by the way." He said, darkly. He didn't intend on scaring her off, but, well, he didn't know her. He waited for her move. He'd known her name already, however. But he'd let her respond in her own manner. Seeing the future had it's perks, no? What?? Did you think that Omen was a stalker. No, no. He's not that kinda man. Usually, he was the one watching his own back, ensuring that someone wasn't making chase of him.
He could tell that she was still drowsy. You didn't have to be a psychic to know that. Her eyes were still a little puffy, though she did take the time to clean herself up a little before entering the common area. He noticed her voice was very tender. He wondered if he could mimic it. Thus far, he'd learned to mimic Xavier's, Wolverine's, and Storm's. It was a unique gift of his. He hummed to himself, falling into the rhythm of a song favorite of his, still waiting on a response. He wondered if he should expect one or not. Shrugging the thought off, he went back into his temporary state of humming.[/blockquote][/blockquote] THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • ) W O R D S • ^.^
T A G G E D •the tooth fairy, oh and tribal.
O U T F I T •Jeans - shirt - Jacket
L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido
T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION
[/color] N O T E S •he thinks a lot zzzZZZZzzzzzZZ[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Terri 'Tribal' Valiant on Aug 11, 2011 13:55:17 GMT -6
The man was silent for a long time, watching her. She kept her stance relaxed, sleep receding slowly from her brain as she waited for him to respond. She had learned a long time ago that not all their 'family' was quick to speak or trust, so she flashed him a brighter smile when he did speak. Sort of like coaxing a shy person out of their shell.
"Good to meet you, Omen. I'm Tribal." The way he watched her, expecting something, was a little unnerving. Or would have been, if she wasn't used to Roland looking at her the exact same way - always expecting her to know what he would say before he said it. She tried to remember who he was but her brain wasn't working like it should. "Sorry, not totally awake yet. Heading to Mess for some coffee - wanna come? Or you rather stay here?"
She was trying to be nice; she couldn't just walk out on the guy, right? Besides - he looked like he hadn't gotten any more sleep then she had. Maybe he could use some coffee too? At least she could ask.
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Post by Duske, Claudio on Aug 15, 2011 10:52:19 GMT -6
THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )Claudio. [/font][/size] Jeremiah.[/size][/font] Duske.[/font][/size][/center] Begging. for. forgiveness.
"Good to meet you, Omen. I'm Tribal." He smiled. She was, for lack of a better term, flirty. Her voice had an illusionistic ring to it. It sang out like a rhythmic bell, in all its elegant beauty. "And you as well." He said, standing up and wiping his eyes, groggily.
"Sorry, not totally awake yet. Heading to Mess for some coffee - wanna come? Or you rather stay here?" Oh, coffee. Jeremiah hadn't thought of that. "That sounds wonderful.." He said in retort. Perhaps coffee would soften his trite mood.
[/blockquote][/blockquote] THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • ) W O R D S • how many?
T A G G E D • for who?
O U T F I T •click!
[/color] L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION[/color] N O T E S • these are notes. aren't they pretty?[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Terri 'Tribal' Valiant on Aug 17, 2011 13:15:40 GMT -6
She wasn't sure he would accept the offer; when he did though, she managed a brighter smile for him. She couldn't remember if she had met him or not before, or if she was even here when he had joined up with the Brotherhood, but it didn't matter. He was here, thats really all it came down to.
"Cool." Pulling the robe a little tighter so that it didn't flap around her as she moved, she stepped off in the lead toward the Mess hall. She should have eaten something - but right now, she felt as if she put food in her stomach at this moment, she'd get to see it again very quickly.
She glanced back, to see perhaps if Omen was really coming with her or not, the crossed the open space to the Mess Hall doors.
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Post by Duske, Claudio on Aug 18, 2011 14:41:03 GMT -6
THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )Claudio. [/font][/size] Jeremiah.[/size][/font] Duske.[/font][/size][/center] IGNORANCE+ME=BLISS
Omen eyed her carefully, as she did him. Perhaps it was just the nature of the Brotherhood, to not be capable of trusting one of them. Is that what made them so strong? Or did it make them weaker, still? Pondering is such a weakness of mine. However, it was quite nice of her to invite him to have coffee with her. He'd not really been the open-invitation type in the past. But the times were changing, and whether he liked it or not, so was he.
"Cool." She replied in his accepting her offer. "Sure, sure." He said, feeling a mild array of happiness flowing over him. Maybe these were the first steps in his making a friend. Only time would tell. He stood, zipping down a couple inches of his hoodie. "So, Tribal, how long have you been in The Brotherhood?" He said, making light conversation. She had already eyed him a couple of times, as if he were not coming. There were so few words that came to his mind, however. Thoughts and dreams of his sister, those were the kind of things that clouded his mind as of late. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for having left her with such a horrible father. Though, he wasn't really left with much of a choice.
It's not like he wanted to leave.
He was forced to do so.
LET.ME.CATCH.YOU.
There wasn't much joy in his life lately. Losing your twin was nearly like losing a part of oneself. Without the two at least being nearby, neither felt whole. He was sure that she had felt it, too. But, if that were the case, why hadn't she communicated? He'd tried a couple of times, but she ignored it. It was possible that she blamed him for leaving, being that she was probably unaware of their father's cruel ways. But, how could she not know? They had a divine sixth sense about one another.
He shrugged the thoughts away, slipping his hands into his warm pockets. The archway to the kitchen was nearby, and he looked forward to getting to know one of the team members. It was true, he had a quiet nature about him, and that he found it nearly impossible to trust. But, he did find a birthing friendship to be quite tasteful. [/blockquote][/blockquote] THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • ) W O R D S • COFFEE!
T A G G E D •Lil Miss Tribal
O U T F I T •click!
[/color] L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION[/color] N O T E S •erm.... ta da! (egad. o.o)[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Flame on Aug 25, 2011 6:54:41 GMT -6
   Roland had just gotten up, his long legs a bit stiff. Obviously he hadn’t stretched enough. Not that it mattered. Coffee time. He nodded to the receptionist as he walked past his own office. He entered the Dining hall, and smiled to see Tribal. Then he noticed Omen. One of the new kids. Or well… people, but they LOOKED like kids. He expecially. He was just a kid. So was Tribal for that matter… He grabbed his coffee, and with a shielded mind, and quiet feet, came up behind them.
”Good Morning Terri, Omen.” he kept his face deadpan. He was a physic. He was smart, quick, and even if his gray hair seemed to make him an old man he wasn’t. Not that anyone who actually worked closely with the Admin office, or worked closely with him, believed he was old. They’d get glared at and then head slapped. He was NOT old. He moved past the young man, and stopped next to Terri, nodding to the green reptilian woman behind the counter. ”Did you actually sleep?” some would just say he was checking up on his people, though his tone was a tad off. A bit to worried to just be checking on a friend. He was great at hiding every emotion but caring. For some reason it always came through. 
``statsdone
``tagging Tribal, Omen
``word count 223
``clothes click
``listening to None
``notes Hope you don’t mind me jumping in. Felt Like I had to. xD Roland’s amusing though.
``lyrics: hello brooklyn by all time low
made by megaru . don't steal. it's so not cool. she will sick ninjas on your butt if you steal.[/center] |
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Post by Terri 'Tribal' Valiant on Aug 30, 2011 2:37:04 GMT -6
"Um.. not too long. Just about a year now."
[/b]She had been asked that alot; it didn't bother her like it used to. The smell of bacon and coffee filled her senses as soon as the pair pushed their way thru the door into the mess all. She led the wait to the coffee pots, happy to see that it looked to be a fresh batch. Fresh Coffee. Yummy. She really hadn't liked the stuff until she had gotten here. More then once she had balked at the thought, but now she had come to a point she had at least one cup in the morning or she couldn't function. For that, she blamed Roland. She'd never been a morning person - addicting her to coffee had only made it worse. Though Roland said she ruined it; two sugars and a dash of milk was enough to soften the edge of the vile black brew. She took a few swallows, then looked at Omen. "How about you? How long you been here?"[/color] Tilting her head slightly, she wondered absently if she should get something to eat... and if she should invite Omen to join her. Roland always said she needed to try to make friends- And as if summoned by the fact Tribal had thought about him, the senior member of the Brotherhood startled her out of her fog. She gave him a smile, nodding gently. "Good Morning to you, Roland. Yes - I slept. Didn't the PJs give it away?" She gave him a face and playfully stuck her tongue out at the man before being more serious. "I've only been up about a hour, if that... though I'm not sure how good the sleep was. I had nothing but nightmares, and for the life of me I can't remember them clearly."[/blockquote][/blockquote] [/size][/font][/left] |
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