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THIS IS THE LAST TIME | o, joiner - CROSSFADE - 07-12-2018

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blind the face with beauty paste
They say that when you die, a white light blinds your vision and swallows your consciousness with nostalgia from your past. Good memories: births, marriages, learning new things. Bad memories: deaths, breakups, becoming insecure. The lupine hadn't been keen to believe such things out of fear of reliving the things he'd endured as a frightened youth, but there was no shamrock or rabbit's foot to keep him from witnessing death at least once. Once he had passed away from wounds given by a group of radicals who saw his gender as a blight upon animals, another time he had been murdered by the blood-stained paws of a traitor. Recently, he had seen another flash of white and for that brief millisecond a thought had crossed his mind - am I free now? There had been no pain, no fear, but also, no flashbacks, an oddity to what he was used to with being reborn. Those brief moments of vertigo hadn't caused him to be dragged to heaven or hell or whatever was in between, but instead, a meadow.

As soon as the wolf woke up, his emerald eyes practically exploded from their sockets, a wheeze coming from a panicked exhale as the grasses teased his nose. As if he had been suffocating, the ghastly sounds traveled across the open lands, white paws shaking badly as he tried to grip onto the soft ground. He tried to lift himself up, but he was spasming so much that lanky legs could not support the weight of the tall wolf. This continued for a while, before his body eventually got used to the new environment that life had dumped him into, a timid mind not yet adjusted to the sudden change of environment. He remembered a forest, treehouses filled to the brim with life, but the names were jumbled in his mind. His own name... it began with a C he knew, but the rest of the vowels and consonants were lost to him. Amnesia? Did he really have amnesia? Was he really himself? His head quickly jerked around, catching the glimpse of pinkish scars at the top of his back, and the male felt sick to his stomach at the sight.

So his appearance was the same, but he'd have to change his name if he didn't know it, and he'd have to figure out where on earth he was. It was quite a lot to take in, and although typically very good at planning, his heart and his brain were constantly at war with one another. Heart thumping out of his chest, the wolf would slowly push himself to his paws again, though his position was still rather bowed in submission to the environment which he'd never seen. The scents were enough to tell him that he wasn't alone, and that was perhaps more terrifying than the pre-mortem visions. They were gonna be mean and angry, he could see it now, with teeth the size of his tail and a breath that stunk of decayed meat. A shudder rippled through his muscles, and not fancying turning his back on such terrifying thoughts Jayden began to walk around in a circle, watching the environment closely.

Movements were wobbly, and as if he'd seen a ghost he seemed to jump at even the faintest whistle of a summer breeze, a cat snatching his polite tongue. No words wanted to come out, even if they did, what would he say? 'Help me,I think I've been abducted?' The beings of this world would think he was crazy. Swallowing a lump in his throat, unsure which way the borders were, Jay would wait for some company so he could apologise quite profusely for his rude intrusion.
JAYDEN
#psychosocial.



Re: THIS IS THE LAST TIME | o, joiner - imperia - 07-12-2018

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Death is not the end. It is a beginning of another cycle; a wheel of life and death. Souls are placed into bodies upon birth and then they live and die, upon which the soul will find a new home in another body. Sometimes a new life is achieved through the randomness of reincarnation, other times a soul will force it's way back through possession; and then there are those who choose not to reenter the cycle, instead spending the rest of eternity with the Maker. That is what Imperia believes, anyways. Her god is less of an individual and more of omniscient, omnipresent being who exists in all forms. Good and bad, right and wrong, angels and demons--all are constructs utilized by the Maker. She takes many faces. She is all deities, and yet none at all. In a way, Imperia believes the Maker is the bang which created the universe, thereby allowing all other deities and individuals of power influence the many worlds however they saw fit. It is comforting to know that death is not the end, but a rest stop in the ever revolving cycle of life. It is comforting to know that there is an entity out therewith a plan, that any event--good or bad or something in between--is only a chapter. The story will go on, life will continue.

A slender figure of gunmetal and silver move silently through the tall grasses, blades of amber and leaves of emerald tickling luscious locks of metallic fur. "You only know what I want you to," sings Imperia in a honey sweet voice. Blue cornflower blossoms are woven into the fur on her neck, a crown of Queen Anne's lace and poppies resting atop her head. "I know everything you don't want me to." Every so often she stops to pluck a wildflower or collect some sort of herbs before carefully stowing it in the leather satchel she wears strapped across her torso. She smells of a strange natural perfume; a motley mixture of flowers and citrus and herbs. It is earthen and fresh, like summertime. "Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine. You think your dreams are the same as mine..." Lost in her own little world, the sweet creature finds herself distracted by a flock of birds soaring across the vast open skies or by a lonesome butterfly dancing from bloom to bloom. But she is not entirely unaware of her surroundings. Deep down, beneath the smiles and lighthearted giggles, there is a more primal place which developed a heightened sensitivity to noises and smells out of a need to protect herself from people she once believed she could trust. Paranoia, partnered with the all-consuming anxiety, lurks perpetually at the darkest edges of her brightest daydreams.

"Oh I don't love you but I always wil--" Imperia stops short, freezing in place much like a solitary doe in the eyes of a predator. A button-black nose twitches and she breathes in the air, attempting to pinpoint the origin of the sounds which originally captured her attention. Instincts beg her to run away, but Imperia cannot ignore her duty to investigate any possible disturbances, even at the risk of her own life. "Is someone there?" she calls, unable to discern a figure from the sea of golden grasses. Peri moves closer, sagacious argentine eyes sweeping her surroundings in search of the stranger. And then, she sees him. A white wolf. Lost, alone, and quite obviously bewildered. "Oh, hello there," the girl creatures, cautiously, but with a genuine warmth. A friendly smile dances upon her angelic visage. The petite she-wolf is always nervous around strangers, but this poor soul looks like he is in need of some assistance. "What is your name? Perhaps I could help you?" Given some of the more unfriendly individuals who lurk about, the stranger is quite lucky that it is kind Imperia who happened upon him first. She is unbothered by his presence within the territory, and is by far more concerned with his well-being. "My name is Imperia Arceneau."



Re: THIS IS THE LAST TIME | o, joiner - | AGENT WASHINGTON | - 07-12-2018

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Death was a sensitive topic for Washington. And probably for his comrade at the same time. He knew that once someone died, there was no way to get them back. He had heard stories and actually seen it himself when Suiteheart came back from the dead. He knew that there was a chance to bring someone back from the dead. Such as when someone's heart stopped being and needed to be electrocuted to get their heart beating again. During the time of the war that they were in and someone died but the majority of their body was fine, there was a chance that they could be put into a comatose state, and then be revived later on when the technology was right. He had heard rumors about the Spartan experiments that were going on and how some of them died but weren't returned to their families and instead put in cryotubes for further study as to why the person hadn't managed to survive said operations. Then there was all the death that had happened during the time he served in the Great War.

The soldiers that died under his orders to protect the aspect of the human race. They didn't have the luxury of coming back to life. Their families would be told that their son, daughter, father, wife died in the line of battle to protect the human race and that they would be honored for their services. If someone was capable of coming back to life, his father would have come back to life a long time ago when he died during the Great War. Washington didn't exactly miss his father because he had been too young to even remember when they got the news of his father's death. There were plenty of those here that talked about is Death was always going to be something that would never last for any of them. What if one them did die and they couldn't return? Would they then understand why they didn't like the concept of death? From the memories that he had been given, he was forced to run through simulations where he had to watch his family die. Not his mother and sister, no.

But instead all fo the Freelancer's, those that he had regarded as being his family. They had all deserved better instead of being constantly manipulated behind their back for something that probably wasn't even going to work at the end of it all. He wanted to get his revenge back against the Director, and he had his own plan on how exactly he was going to do that. Sure, Carolina wouldn't like something like that, but they still needed each other and there was going to have to be some sort of potential for them to work together without actually killing each other. Washington doubted that Carolina still trusted him. He didn't trust her after all. She was the Director's daughter and that she had been dealt the short straw when it came to her life, and there may be a chance that the Director could manipulate her to do what he wanted. There were too many factors for something like that. Washington had been close to death in general plenty of times. That was because his line of work didn't exactly guarantee that he was going to be physically okay during it either.

The Freelancer was going to get shot, he was going to have his bone broken, and even then he could be just injured during sparring matches. Which said sparring matches didn't have anything withheld from them either, and instead Washington remembered that they were supposed to try and hurt each other during sparring matches on the Mother of Invention. There had been a time that he had been too close to a grenade and he wasn't sure exactly how much of his side was even remotely left. He could barely remember anything. And yet when death was looking at him in the face, he couldn't remember anything. Maybe that had been because of the memory replacement during the accident that he had suffered hence why he didn't remember. The Freelancer was able to survive thanks to the technology that they did have at their disposal. Biofoam was certainly something that came in handy when it came to something like that, as it could stabilize a patient without really hurting them. The Freelancer was known for getting hurt countless times but was quick to bounce back after an injury. Was that something that he was capable of doing here?

Washington didn't exactly want to find out. The Freelancer was on his usual schedule of patrolling up and down the territory. Just because there weren't exactly anything near the border, the smilodon still needed to check the inner portions of the territory, because that's where he had ended up landing himself when he first arrived here. From the sky ironically. The armored smilodon had no reason to really feel threatened by anyone that currently lived in the outpost that he was taking refuge in. All he had to worry about was Carolina like herself, and he wasn't even sure if he could trust her just yet either. The Freelancer wore a helmet that was constantly on his face, hiding any facial expression that he was capable of feeling. Washington enjoyed having that barrier where no one could see his face because it meant that he didn't have to connect with those that he was talking to. He wasn't here to make friends after all, as he was trying to figure out a way to get back to being human. His plan already fortified of what he was going to do once he did manage to become human again, and the longer he stayed here the more likely the plan was going to end up failing if he wasn't careful.

The former human was making his way through the meadow when he could see heads poking slightly out of the tall grass. Being the size of a lion and most definitely not camouflaging with said grass, he wasn't exactly hard to spot. He noticed a familiar face. Imperia. He didn't mind the female's company, and the other may call him a friend while he thought the opposite. It was going to take a lot to get on the good side of the Freelancer where he wasn't thinking about killing someone. Washington made his way over, which probably would spook the white wolf that he didn't recognize. More wolves from the looks of it. The Freelancer didn't say anything as he approached, as the other was obviously intruding on the territory. Considering the wolf had arrived in the middle of the territory meant that the other may be someone that he actually knew. Wyoming maybe. But he wasn't sure as the other wasn't wearing any type of armor so maybe he didn't know him. The armored smilodon stopped at least five feet away from the group, sitting himself down. He needed to gather as much intel about those that lived in this place as much as possible. Part of him felt like it was a waste of time, but he and his comrades didn't know how long they were going to end up staying here either. Washington remained quiet and didn't bother to introduce him, his large size may put the other at unease if he wasn't used to larger animals, especially one that wore armor. His head would turn toward Imperia, and he would offer the other canine at least a small nod of his head. "speech"
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Tags | Updated 06/26/18:



Re: THIS IS THE LAST TIME | o, joiner - CROSSFADE - 07-13-2018

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blind the face with beauty paste
Company had been a little slow to appear, but for Jayden that was totally fine. It may have built up unwanted suspense and caused him to double take at even the slightest hint of a shadow within his forest-green visionaries, but at least he didn't have to talk after times of extended solitude. Until he saw the first glimpse of a creature heading over a hill, and he was forced to swallow all remnants of hesitance back down into a churning belly swarming to the brim with anxious butterflies. Adrenaline flooded his veins once more, a grim warning for him to leave whilst he still could, but like a deer in the headlines the lupine stayed in one place. Wide-eyed stare slowly fixated upon Imperia and his head shrunk down even lower, as if he had already consented to a death warrant. But... senses did not witness the expected response.

It was a smile instead that graced the features of a stranger, one that almost made him sick from the sweetness of it, as if his mind was exaggerating all of the emotions of those around him. Jayden couldn't look the she-wolf in the eyes, instead finding an unfocused gaze landing somewhere around the top of her legs, heartbeat roaring in neat ears. It's ok... breathe... you're gonna be fine... he told himself, as if he was a friend talking to someone else who felt as nervous as he did. Jay seemed to only be friends with himself at the moment, so perhaps there was a method to his self-induced madness. "Um..." shocked to hear that his own voice was still working even despite the intense emotions welling up inside of him, Jay paused before he caught himself rambling towards a stranger, head tucked like a turtle.

A name... she wanted to help... her own title was Imperia... it was a lot to take in and it seemed to echo over and over again within him. Why would she want to help you? She doesn't know you, she has no reason to care, just do it yourself. But he couldn't do it himself, he wasn't strong enough to figure out where he was. "Jayden... My name's J-Jayden..." he murmured quietly. It was a name that had to do, the lupine was not sure if it was an entirely appropriate fit, but it was better than being a weird anonymous beast of the wilds. "It's so... so nice to meet you... I...". An alabaster pawstep was took forwards before he caught himself, mouth in a permanent gape of surprise. No, he couldn't be so desperate. "I just don't know where I am... I... I w-w-woke up here and...". Everything I ever knew is now gone.

A quiet but high pitched whine erupted from him, gaze flickering away to try and recollect himself when something shining against the summer light caught his vision. It was massive, and though it was exaggeration on his part, Jayden swore the ground shook with every quaking pawstep it took closer to him. With a few of those horrible steps, the canine found himself taking a few back away from the two, lean belly practically touching the ground now with how close he had crouched towards it. Ears were pinned back as he stared up at the looming being, and as a nod was given to the other stranger his throat went bone dry. "I... I'm sorry for i-intruding. I-I'll leave if you want me to just please... I don't want to fight,". He was not in the right frame of mind for such a heavy commitment.
JAYDEN
#psychosocial.



Re: THIS IS THE LAST TIME | o, joiner - | AGENT WASHINGTON | - 07-13-2018

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Disorientation was a state that Washington was used to being in. There were several instances that could cause such a state, and when someone was a soldier it was easier to come across them. Being too close to an explosion was one way to get the air knocked out of them and also become unconscious at the same time. Once waking up, they could either have the memory of what they went through just moments ago or have no idea where they are at the end. Washington had been in one of those instances on a mission against what seemed to be their primary enemy at the time, other humans. Insurrectionists to be exact, those that were a danger to humans alike so that they believed that they were the good guys taking out such an enemy. Washington wasn't the greatest of the squad that had gone on a raid to acquire some important equipment. Instead, he was considered to be the worst of the group, which he was fine with because he was the worst of the best in the entire program of 49 other soldiers. Washington hadn't prepared himself for the act of a grenade being thrown at him in the middle of a firefight.

He didn't even see the one that threw it, and they had cooked the grenade before they ended up throwing it at him. He had enough time to bring up his arms to protect his head, but he was blown backward. Shrapnel impaling his body in several different places and searing his armor. Luckily, the temperature from the explosion wasn't high enough to even melt his armor, but his undersuit was also exposed meaning that the material slightly melted to his body when he was blown away. Even with his injury, the mission was a success, and the soldier was taken to medical as quick as possible. He barely remembered anything that that happened and when he woke up he thought that he was still on the battlefield, not being able to hear anything because his eardrums had been blown out during the explosion. He had immediately tried to get up from the operating table that had taken all of the shrapnel out of his body and he was quickly held down by the hands of a medic which he fought against.

They were forced to sedate the Freelancer before he could end up hurting himself or even the personnel. Once he woke up again, he was able to take in the surroundings that he was in and realized that he was back on the ship that he was given. It wasn't hard to tell that he was on the ship because he had been inside of medical time and time again. There was another moment when he had taken a huge fall after fighting hand to hand with another opponent. He thought that he was going to manage to get the better of the other, but the other caught him off guard with a couple jabs that forced his head to snap backward. Sadly for Washington during this time, he was near the edge on top of the building that they were raiding, and he was immediately kicked off the building. He didn't really have time to right himself so that he could land on his feet, and he was lucky that he was wearing armor at all. If he hadn't, it would have meant that his spine probably would have snapped on landing. Having the air knocked out of his body and also having his head collide with the ground, it was certainly a mixture of factors that meant that he wasn't capable of fighting back immediately.

Washington was more than used to having the air knocked out of his lungs considering the sparring that he had done with those that were stronger than he was anyway. However, his opponent didn't really waste any time and threw a knife down from where he was at, impaling Washington in the leg and in the side. It hurt quite a bit and it was enough time to bring him back to whatever was happening. If it hadn't been for Agent Maine, Washington probably would have died that same day. But that was the aspect of the job, and it was that there was a chance that he wouldn't be alive the next day. When he had arrived in the Ascendant's he had been nothing more than confused. The last thing he remembered was being inside of a ship as he exploded and he ended up here. Not exactly the easiest of transitions that he was used to either. The Freelancer fell from the sky and crash-landed in the area. It was there that he was approached by several different faces that were confused to see him. He had been so confused and exhausted and his mind wasn't working correctly that he didn't really have any means what to question.

Other than that he was an animal, and there were animals that were talking to him. Which didn't exactly make any sort of logical sense in the first place? Agent Washington was close to passing out before he was given a room where he could pass out for the majority of the next day before waking up and not realizing where he was or what planet he was even on. Or how anything that had happened now was even possible. Washington had difficulty figuring out what was real and what was just his mind playing tricks on him, having not had enough time to get over his trauma. The Freelancer then had gotten almost all of his questions asked and he went to work from there. He knew what it was like to be confusing, and that it just took time to get used to everything that was happening. The same happened with Carolina when she first appeared. Washington watched the others body language and knew that this situation was going to go downhill really fast. He wasn't exactly great when it came to interacted with others if they weren't soldiers that he could get to follow his orders. This was just a regular wolf, by the name of Jayden, and that meant that Washington didn't actually end up knowing him. Washington had been hoping that the other had at least been another Freelancer to some degree.

The armored smilodon kept himself calm as he sat himself down, watching the other's interaction with Imperia. It was when the canine had spotted the large form that he basically tried to make himself disappear. Great. He didn't know anything about calming others and he would probably make the situation worse than it already was by speaking. A sigh escaped his jaws as Washington shook his helmet covered face. "At ease. You aren't someone I would simply attack without reason. It's obvious that you're confused about what's happening, this outpost accepts anyone that is seeking shelter for an ungiven amount of time." The way that the smilodon talked was sophisticated. He sounded like a soldier when he talked, and addressing Jayden in a calming manner. Although what his words said probably wouldn't ease the other at least he was TRYING. He didn't exactly want to look intimidating, as he was far from intimidating when he was a human. Although armor had a different effect on others. "I'm Agent Washington." The Freelancer would introduce himself calmly and curtly. With the other remember his name? He wasn't sure, but again he didn't care as now that he knew that Jayden wasn't a simulation trooper or from Freelancer, he had no reason to bother the other canine. "speech"
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Tags | Updated 06/26/18:



Re: THIS IS THE LAST TIME | o, joiner - imperia - 07-13-2018

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Fear of rebuke is a phenomena which is all too familiar to Miss Imperia. She lived the majority of her life fearing Pierre's wrath. Did she stutter? Did she disappoint him? Was she too slow? Is his food prepared correctly? There was a mental checklist she needed to go down before she could even remotely relax. Imperia is not a physically strong creature, and she does not have much of a stomach for fighting, so she was a disappointment from the beginning; but if she could at least please her father by achieving everything else, perhaps he would not be so angry all the time. But she could never truly make him happy, so she was punished for it. Her mother tried to help as much as she could but Peri would rather take the blows herself than subject her sickly mother to even more suffering. The willingness to sacrifice oneself for the sake of another is a strength often overlooked by others. Maybe if Pierre recognized the power of Imperia's soul, he would not be so angry all the time. Unfortunately, her father and the rest of her pack only perceived strength as the ability to take a life, not save it. And Peri suffered dearly for her commitment to doing good unto others.

The first month or so after her liberation from the oppression of her natal pack was difficult. She feared the wrath of strangers; speaking quietly, stumbling over her words, too nervous to make eye contact. Thankfully the Maker found her in time, making Herself known to the timid creature before she succumbed to her personal demons. The Maker showed opened Imperia's mind to the strength of her own heart, assisting her discovery of her true purpose: to help people in need. The surest way to heal her own scars is not to cringe away in defense, but to help others heal--she knows this now. No one ever saved the world by hiding.

"It is wonderful to meet you, Jayden," replies Imperia kindly, her melodious voice ringing with the genuine warmth of a person who cares. It is not hard to overlook the alabaster wolf's stuttering words and submissive posture--she recognizes herself in him, and it warms her heart to his plight. "There is no need to be afraid, mon ami," she reassures with a smile. "As Washington said, we shall not harm you." Sterling steel eyes flicker over to observe the armored wildcat beside her and offers him a smile. She wonders, briefly, of what keeps Wash from opening up to others. Why the armor? The ranks? The secrets kept between him and the rest of the Agents? Imperia knows of no wars, no reason to resist integration into the community. It makes her a little sad that he is so resistant to her friendship. Yes, she noticed. Peri is naive and optimistic, not stupid. It is nigh impossible to miss the barrier he places between himself and others, with the exception of Carolina and his comrades. And perhaps it makes her a little envious. Withheld friendship is not new to her, however.

Ignoring her more selfish train of thought, Imperia redirects her attention to Jayden. What a beautiful name, she thinks. So, the poor soul does not know where he is or why he is here...that is horrible. Must be terribly stressful to not even know your own self. "It sounds to me that you have amnesia..." Peri thinks aloud, cocking her head thoughtfully to the side. "Does your head ache? Any dizziness or nausea?" Usually memory loss is associated to a concussion, so the she-wolf just wants to be sure that Jayden did not receive any dangerous head injuries.