Post by Ethan Jaeger on Jan 15, 2008 21:09:08 GMT -5
Basic Stats
Name: Ethan Jaeger
Codename: Salvo, Ares XIII
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Occupation: Student at the Xavier institute, Junior X-man
Place of Birth: New York
Place of Residence:Xavier's school for gifted youngsters
Known Relatives:
Thomas Jaeger [Father]
Mathilda Jaeger Smith [Mother]
Aaron Jaeger [Younger brother]
Alliance: X-men
Physical Stats
Height: 6' 3
Weight: Around 450 lbs, increases to almost one ton when in a full biometal state
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Avatar: Tom Welling
Abilities
Mutation: In his natural state, Ethan's body is like any other, except his molecular structure is far, far more dense, which means he weighs around three times as much as a man of his size and build should. However, Salvo's main power lies in his ability to convert his own mass into biometal, an amorphous, molecularly unstable matter that can alter it's shape, density and even atomic structure in response to Ethan's mental commands, allowing him to reform any part of his body to form machines and objects and even detach parts of his own body at will, though he's unable to reabsorb them if they're separated for more then ten minutes, and he has to have detached them willingly, so he can't reattach severed body parts or extremities.
As a result, Ethan is able to make his body morph into everything from knife blades and swords to machine guns and even advanced weaponry such as plasma launchers and microwave emitters. He is, at least in theory, able to create other things too, such as durable body armor, radio receivers and computers. Unfortunately, Ethan seems to suffer from some sort of mental block that makes it damn near impossible for him to form anything not meant to harm others or protect him, most likely as a result of his traumatic and highly violent past. When it comes to forming weapons, protection or anything else meant to be used in combat Ethan only needs to think the thought. But when trying to form other things, such as a defibrillator, he experiences searing pain and heavy mental stress. Even if he does manage to push past it, he rarely manages to form exactly what he wants.
So far, the exact properties of this biometal have been impossible to determine, since it seems to rearrange it's very structure via Ethan's subconscious commands, but it has shown itself able to mimic and mix the properties of almost any other form of metal in existence, with the noticeable exception of adamantium, which is the only known metal with a higher density. It can even generate electricity by converting it's own atoms into raw energy and form plasma by releasing ions.
However, it can't actually alter it's own coloration or texture, always remaining a silvery, smooth metal. Furthermore, Ethan can't remain in even a partial metal state for long. By converting only parts of his body, he can actively use his powers for a few hours, depending on just what he forms. But he'd be lucky if he'd last ten minutes in a fully converted state, especially if he wished to come out of it without falling unconscious from the massive system shock his body suffers from converting it's every cell and organ into solid, undifferentiated metal.
Lastly, it's worthy to note that Ethan doesn't pull his extra mass from some extradimensional source like it's theorized most shapeshifters and bodimorphs do, but rather his own body. As a result, every time Ethan uses his powers to form guns, ammo or fuel, he is literally throwing away part of his own body. Luckily, his dense form provides a reasonable large buffer zone for him, with the only side-effect being some weight loss and a ravenous appetite to restore it. But, if he was to stretch himself too far, Salvo might very well use too much mass for him to maintain his body in working order, and he might suffer everything from liver damage to cardiac arrest as a result.
A nice side-effect of his power is that Ethan is kept in peak human condition thanks to his body always reverting to the most beneficial state, which means he'll always remain fit and healthy, despite having to eat five times more then a normal human being.
Skills: As your average mutant street scum punk gone wrong, Ethan knows his way around a brawl. Though he lacks any real, formal training, Ethan knows a haphazard mix of various martial arts and fighting styles he's blended into a personal style, with a focus on devastating kicks and punches. Likewise, he knows plenty about guns, though much of it comes from bad Hong Kong action movies and NRA magazines. Even so, he knows a lot more then the average gangbanger, mutant or not.
Much of that might stem from his almost instinctive understanding of technology, though it's not sure if it has anything to do with his powers or just good genes. Either way, Ethan quickly grasps and understands engineering principles and designs, though his intelligence doesn't seem to be quite as sharp in other fields. Even so, he's already good enough to fine tune American muscle cars and he's got an almost encyclopedic knowledge of weaponry. If he puts his mind to it, Ethan might very well become a very good inventor some day.
However, there is more to Ethan then killing people and building cars, though not much. He's an avid guitar player, and not a half bad one at that, though a little out of practice.
Personality: Angry is probably the word that best sums up Ethan. Angry at the humans who threw him out, angry at the humans who shunned him, angry at pretty much everybody he perceives to have slighted him, which is pretty much... well, everybody. Over the last four or so years of his life, Ethan has grown from an average kid to a very bitter man. He's easily irritated, passive-aggressive and extremely introverted, distrusting and sometimes downright self-destructive.
Thanks to what might best be called one screwed up childhood, Ethan has trust issues that rivals even the most jaded paranoid cynic. He's damn near forgotten what friendship means, and always assumes anybody who even talks to him wants something from him, most likely without intending to return the favor, and as such he responds with a bitter, sardonic attitude.
Luckily, his time at Xavier's has done much to break down the walls Ethan's built around himself. While still highly distrustful and bitingly sarcastic, Ethan has at least begun to open up, even going so far as calling some people around him 'friends', though he's still quite uncomfortable in more active social settings, and tends to revert to his more aggressive personality when put into them, growing agitated if he can't retreat to something less crowded.
However, Ethan has his bright sides. Anybody who does break through his shells enough won't just win a friend for life, but a man who will quite literally kill for them. Having experienced so much loss in his life, Salvo is fiercely protective of the people he cares about, and is willing to do almost anything to make sure they stay safe. They'd probably also find themselves exposed to Ethan's 'softer side', so to speak. When truly comfortable around someone, he's both friendly, warm, compassionate and downright nice.
Unfortunately, a life as violent and bloody as Ethan's is sure to leave some deeply seated mental issues, and Ethan isn't particularly lucky in that regard. He has severe anger management issues and has no hesitations about lashing out against anything he perceives to threaten him either physically or socially, a behavior that is especially dangerous when your talking about a man who's a mere thought away from military grade ordinance and ammunition banned by the Hague convention.
Violence is always an easy way out, and Ethan is no stranger to the temptation. He's rash and quick to use force, and while he wrestles with a guilty conscious over killing people he has problems restraining himself when the chips are down, often resorting to simply mowing down anybody in his way when threatened or scared. One might even say he's addicted to it, as the only time he seems to find peace is when fighting. It's simply, easy. There's no ethics when he's fighting for his life, no morality in the heat of battle. But when the smoke clears, the guilt, fear and uncertainty returns in full force, and Salvo feels worse then when he started. Yet the temptation is always there, the promise of a few moments of simplicity just a gunshot away.
He struggles with questions of purpose or destiny, and often wonders if he wasn't meant to be an amoral killing machine, since he only seems to find peace while knee-deep in gore and spent casings. If pushed too far, he might very well become just that, a unquestioning machine, losing himself in the simplicity of killing, drowning his guilt and fears with violence.
History: Ethan was your average, middle-class first born. There wasn't anything especially distinctive about him, apart from an unusually good physique and a healthy appetite. Born to a very average suburban couple, his life seemed destined for mediocrity from day one.
His parents were good folk, really. They didn't hit him, or starve him or lock him into his room for days. No, if anything they were downright good, always doing the supporting, understanding thing when he wanted to join the soccer team or try his hand at guitar lessons or what not, even encouraging it.
Soon he started school, where he showed himself to be just as average, sliding past without especially high or low grades. He made friends, he made enemies and did all the other stuff regular kids did. He did, however, show himself to be a promising athlete, and would perhaps have turned into a jock if he'd ever reached high school.
Unfortunately, Ethan never did. shortly after his fourteenth birthday, Ethan's mutation emerged. Waking up one morning to find his hand shifting and morphing, seemingly of it's own accord, he rushed to his parents, terrified and confused. Yet, rather then compassion, support or even indifference all he got was hate and scorn. Neither one of his parents knew what to do or how to deal with the fact that their firstborn son was quite clearly a mutant, so they reacted like most humans do when faced with something beyond their understanding. Fear, hate and anger.
It didn't take long for his family to alienate him, making him a stranger in his own home. A few weeks later a fight broke out between him and his parents over something so trivial neither can remember, and in a fit of anger they threw him out with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Scared and confused, Ethan drifted toward the only place for mutants he knew of: District X. But District X is hardly the promised land, and a lost kid is easy pickings for any one of the predators and monsters that prowl it's alleys. "Luckily" a mutant gang calling themselves the Blood Gods found him first, though they intended only to rob him. But when Ethan reflexively transformed his arms into machine guns and turned the gang's main muscle into Swiz cheese, he managed to impress them enough that they 'offered' him the opportunity to take up his first victim's place. Having little choice in the matter, Ethan was sworn in.
Renamed Ares, like the boy he'd killed, the following four years of Ethan's life was nothing short of hell. Living out of an abandoned building among drugfiends and burnouts who'd long since given up hope, killing other gangs just to survive, threatening, extorting and abusing others for food, clothes or turf. Fighting became second nature and murder a way of life. As the most offensive member of the gang, it was his job to be at the front lines, to protect the others and kill the opposition. He had no choice in the matter. If he'd refused, his fellow gang members would have kill him, assuming his opponents didn't get to him first.
For years, he lived and breathed violence, becoming a uncaring machine just so he could live with himself. Then, the virus began spreading through the district, and Ethan had to watch his brothers and sisters in arms destroyed from within, burned from the inside by their own powers. Life went from vicious to worse. District X was destroying itself from within, fear and chaos driving it's inhabitants even more desperate then before.
Then... Ethan got infected. He recognized the symptoms well enough. The fever, the increased powers. And then the riots happened. It was war, pure and simple, no other word for it. Men and women gone mad, turned into savage beasts driven by anger and hate at the world that rejected them, called them freaks and locked them in to die.
At first, Ethan was about to join them, go on a mindless crusade, slaughter all just to numb the pain. Yet as he saw the X-men in action, watched them fight tooth and claw to protect people they didn't even know, something happened. Maybe he saw a way out, or maybe he was just so tired of living without purpose. Perhaps he's genuinely a good person. Either way, it sparked something within him, and Ethan found himself fighting by their side before he knew what happened, the virus fueling his powers to make him a veritable juggernaut.
When the riots died down, Ethan was not only offered a cure, but a helping hand and a place at Xavier's. For the first time in years, he saw a chance at an actual life, actual hope, and accepted the offer.
Sample Post:
He still couldn't understand why he was here. He still couldn't quite understand what he'd done, how he'd lived. He'd... killed. So many. God, he couldn't even remember how many. Just flashes, snapshots of it. Like something he'd seen in a newspaper about war in some country with a name he couldn't pronounce. Like a bad dream, or some show on TV.
Except it wasn't a bad dream or a show on TV. It was his life. God, that was his life! He still couldn't quite understand it. He knew it, he knew what he'd done, how he lived but he didn't Know it, couldn't grasp it. He just couldn't accept that he'd spent the last four years like some kind of monster. That his parents, who'd always been so nice and understanding, had just thrown him out. Called him a freak, condemned him to that... that... hell. They found out their genes had turned him into some kind of human machine and suddenly he wasn't good enough for them. It was their genes, Their fault! They'd drove him to it! If it wasn't for them, he wouldn't have done what he'd done. Wouldn't have stolen. Wouldn't have hurt. Wouldn't have become that monstrosity.
Wouldn't have killed. God, what had happened to his life? It felt like just yesterday his biggest worry had been about starting High school. Next thing he knows he's not even sure he'll live to see tomorrow. Killing just to stay alive and too numb to care, like some kind of nightmare that never ends. Felt like just a day. Felt like a lifetime.
One bad day and he turns into a killer. A mass murderer. He couldn't even remember their names, or why he'd done what he did to them. Just their faces, full of fear and anger, resentment in their eyes. What he'd done to deserve that? Nothing. He'd done absolutely nothing and the world still just turned it's back on him, left him to die alone. Only he hadn't. He'd lived, he'd done everything in his power, fought tooth and claw for every inch, every day. And for what? Just so he could get up the next morning and do it again? It never ended, never stopped.
Except it had. It was over. He was free, out of hell and into paradise. He had a bed now. He didn't need to worry about food anymore. He had teachers. He even had people he'd might call friends. People who seemed to actually care about him. He was studying again. God, he'd missed studying!
But.... it wasn't over. It would never be over, not really. He still had nightmares. Still felt guilt. Still wanted to scream till his lungs went raw. Sometimes, when he lay awake all night, just thinking of what he'd done, he still wanted back. It was an easy life, a simple way out.
He'd been hungry, sure. He'd been dying piece by piece every day, losing himself. But he hadn't felt anything. No guilt, no remorse, no anger, no fear. He'd been at some kind of peace. Life was hell, sure, but it was a life he knew. It made sense. It was simple, pure. Kill or be killed. He didn't have to deal with all the guilt, didn't have to live in a world he didn't understand anymore. Didn't have to listen to people complain about not having the right clothes or the right lipsticks or bitch about millions of tiny, insignificant things that didn't even matter like the world depended on it.
Didn't have to deal with people who didn't know what it was like. They lived their lives like they were so bad, never seeing just how good they had it. They'd never understand, not really. Sure, they could try, they could even read his mind. But in the end, you had to live it to really feel what it was like.
"Ethan?"
The sudden voice startled him, shook him from his thought. He turned, eyes focusing on the all too familiar face of Ororo Monroe.
"Are you alright?" she asked with that softspoken tone of hers.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll fine." he said as he stood from his seat, glancing around the classroom and noticing it was empty. "I'll be alright."
Player Information:
Name: mort. I'm back!
Age: 17
Contact Information: Pm, baby, one more time.
Other Characters: None, though Morph is on the way
Name: Ethan Jaeger
Codename
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Occupation: Student at the Xavier institute, Junior X-man
Place of Birth: New York
Place of Residence:Xavier's school for gifted youngsters
Known Relatives:
Thomas Jaeger [Father]
Mathilda Jaeger Smith [Mother]
Aaron Jaeger [Younger brother]
Alliance: X-men
Physical Stats
Height: 6' 3
Weight: Around 450 lbs, increases to almost one ton when in a full biometal state
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Avatar: Tom Welling
Abilities
Mutation: In his natural state, Ethan's body is like any other, except his molecular structure is far, far more dense, which means he weighs around three times as much as a man of his size and build should. However, Salvo's main power lies in his ability to convert his own mass into biometal, an amorphous, molecularly unstable matter that can alter it's shape, density and even atomic structure in response to Ethan's mental commands, allowing him to reform any part of his body to form machines and objects and even detach parts of his own body at will, though he's unable to reabsorb them if they're separated for more then ten minutes, and he has to have detached them willingly, so he can't reattach severed body parts or extremities.
As a result, Ethan is able to make his body morph into everything from knife blades and swords to machine guns and even advanced weaponry such as plasma launchers and microwave emitters. He is, at least in theory, able to create other things too, such as durable body armor, radio receivers and computers. Unfortunately, Ethan seems to suffer from some sort of mental block that makes it damn near impossible for him to form anything not meant to harm others or protect him, most likely as a result of his traumatic and highly violent past. When it comes to forming weapons, protection or anything else meant to be used in combat Ethan only needs to think the thought. But when trying to form other things, such as a defibrillator, he experiences searing pain and heavy mental stress. Even if he does manage to push past it, he rarely manages to form exactly what he wants.
So far, the exact properties of this biometal have been impossible to determine, since it seems to rearrange it's very structure via Ethan's subconscious commands, but it has shown itself able to mimic and mix the properties of almost any other form of metal in existence, with the noticeable exception of adamantium, which is the only known metal with a higher density. It can even generate electricity by converting it's own atoms into raw energy and form plasma by releasing ions.
However, it can't actually alter it's own coloration or texture, always remaining a silvery, smooth metal. Furthermore, Ethan can't remain in even a partial metal state for long. By converting only parts of his body, he can actively use his powers for a few hours, depending on just what he forms. But he'd be lucky if he'd last ten minutes in a fully converted state, especially if he wished to come out of it without falling unconscious from the massive system shock his body suffers from converting it's every cell and organ into solid, undifferentiated metal.
Lastly, it's worthy to note that Ethan doesn't pull his extra mass from some extradimensional source like it's theorized most shapeshifters and bodimorphs do, but rather his own body. As a result, every time Ethan uses his powers to form guns, ammo or fuel, he is literally throwing away part of his own body. Luckily, his dense form provides a reasonable large buffer zone for him, with the only side-effect being some weight loss and a ravenous appetite to restore it. But, if he was to stretch himself too far, Salvo might very well use too much mass for him to maintain his body in working order, and he might suffer everything from liver damage to cardiac arrest as a result.
A nice side-effect of his power is that Ethan is kept in peak human condition thanks to his body always reverting to the most beneficial state, which means he'll always remain fit and healthy, despite having to eat five times more then a normal human being.
Skills: As your average mutant street scum punk gone wrong, Ethan knows his way around a brawl. Though he lacks any real, formal training, Ethan knows a haphazard mix of various martial arts and fighting styles he's blended into a personal style, with a focus on devastating kicks and punches. Likewise, he knows plenty about guns, though much of it comes from bad Hong Kong action movies and NRA magazines. Even so, he knows a lot more then the average gangbanger, mutant or not.
Much of that might stem from his almost instinctive understanding of technology, though it's not sure if it has anything to do with his powers or just good genes. Either way, Ethan quickly grasps and understands engineering principles and designs, though his intelligence doesn't seem to be quite as sharp in other fields. Even so, he's already good enough to fine tune American muscle cars and he's got an almost encyclopedic knowledge of weaponry. If he puts his mind to it, Ethan might very well become a very good inventor some day.
However, there is more to Ethan then killing people and building cars, though not much. He's an avid guitar player, and not a half bad one at that, though a little out of practice.
Personality: Angry is probably the word that best sums up Ethan. Angry at the humans who threw him out, angry at the humans who shunned him, angry at pretty much everybody he perceives to have slighted him, which is pretty much... well, everybody. Over the last four or so years of his life, Ethan has grown from an average kid to a very bitter man. He's easily irritated, passive-aggressive and extremely introverted, distrusting and sometimes downright self-destructive.
Thanks to what might best be called one screwed up childhood, Ethan has trust issues that rivals even the most jaded paranoid cynic. He's damn near forgotten what friendship means, and always assumes anybody who even talks to him wants something from him, most likely without intending to return the favor, and as such he responds with a bitter, sardonic attitude.
Luckily, his time at Xavier's has done much to break down the walls Ethan's built around himself. While still highly distrustful and bitingly sarcastic, Ethan has at least begun to open up, even going so far as calling some people around him 'friends', though he's still quite uncomfortable in more active social settings, and tends to revert to his more aggressive personality when put into them, growing agitated if he can't retreat to something less crowded.
However, Ethan has his bright sides. Anybody who does break through his shells enough won't just win a friend for life, but a man who will quite literally kill for them. Having experienced so much loss in his life, Salvo is fiercely protective of the people he cares about, and is willing to do almost anything to make sure they stay safe. They'd probably also find themselves exposed to Ethan's 'softer side', so to speak. When truly comfortable around someone, he's both friendly, warm, compassionate and downright nice.
Unfortunately, a life as violent and bloody as Ethan's is sure to leave some deeply seated mental issues, and Ethan isn't particularly lucky in that regard. He has severe anger management issues and has no hesitations about lashing out against anything he perceives to threaten him either physically or socially, a behavior that is especially dangerous when your talking about a man who's a mere thought away from military grade ordinance and ammunition banned by the Hague convention.
Violence is always an easy way out, and Ethan is no stranger to the temptation. He's rash and quick to use force, and while he wrestles with a guilty conscious over killing people he has problems restraining himself when the chips are down, often resorting to simply mowing down anybody in his way when threatened or scared. One might even say he's addicted to it, as the only time he seems to find peace is when fighting. It's simply, easy. There's no ethics when he's fighting for his life, no morality in the heat of battle. But when the smoke clears, the guilt, fear and uncertainty returns in full force, and Salvo feels worse then when he started. Yet the temptation is always there, the promise of a few moments of simplicity just a gunshot away.
He struggles with questions of purpose or destiny, and often wonders if he wasn't meant to be an amoral killing machine, since he only seems to find peace while knee-deep in gore and spent casings. If pushed too far, he might very well become just that, a unquestioning machine, losing himself in the simplicity of killing, drowning his guilt and fears with violence.
History: Ethan was your average, middle-class first born. There wasn't anything especially distinctive about him, apart from an unusually good physique and a healthy appetite. Born to a very average suburban couple, his life seemed destined for mediocrity from day one.
His parents were good folk, really. They didn't hit him, or starve him or lock him into his room for days. No, if anything they were downright good, always doing the supporting, understanding thing when he wanted to join the soccer team or try his hand at guitar lessons or what not, even encouraging it.
Soon he started school, where he showed himself to be just as average, sliding past without especially high or low grades. He made friends, he made enemies and did all the other stuff regular kids did. He did, however, show himself to be a promising athlete, and would perhaps have turned into a jock if he'd ever reached high school.
Unfortunately, Ethan never did. shortly after his fourteenth birthday, Ethan's mutation emerged. Waking up one morning to find his hand shifting and morphing, seemingly of it's own accord, he rushed to his parents, terrified and confused. Yet, rather then compassion, support or even indifference all he got was hate and scorn. Neither one of his parents knew what to do or how to deal with the fact that their firstborn son was quite clearly a mutant, so they reacted like most humans do when faced with something beyond their understanding. Fear, hate and anger.
It didn't take long for his family to alienate him, making him a stranger in his own home. A few weeks later a fight broke out between him and his parents over something so trivial neither can remember, and in a fit of anger they threw him out with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Scared and confused, Ethan drifted toward the only place for mutants he knew of: District X. But District X is hardly the promised land, and a lost kid is easy pickings for any one of the predators and monsters that prowl it's alleys. "Luckily" a mutant gang calling themselves the Blood Gods found him first, though they intended only to rob him. But when Ethan reflexively transformed his arms into machine guns and turned the gang's main muscle into Swiz cheese, he managed to impress them enough that they 'offered' him the opportunity to take up his first victim's place. Having little choice in the matter, Ethan was sworn in.
Renamed Ares, like the boy he'd killed, the following four years of Ethan's life was nothing short of hell. Living out of an abandoned building among drugfiends and burnouts who'd long since given up hope, killing other gangs just to survive, threatening, extorting and abusing others for food, clothes or turf. Fighting became second nature and murder a way of life. As the most offensive member of the gang, it was his job to be at the front lines, to protect the others and kill the opposition. He had no choice in the matter. If he'd refused, his fellow gang members would have kill him, assuming his opponents didn't get to him first.
For years, he lived and breathed violence, becoming a uncaring machine just so he could live with himself. Then, the virus began spreading through the district, and Ethan had to watch his brothers and sisters in arms destroyed from within, burned from the inside by their own powers. Life went from vicious to worse. District X was destroying itself from within, fear and chaos driving it's inhabitants even more desperate then before.
Then... Ethan got infected. He recognized the symptoms well enough. The fever, the increased powers. And then the riots happened. It was war, pure and simple, no other word for it. Men and women gone mad, turned into savage beasts driven by anger and hate at the world that rejected them, called them freaks and locked them in to die.
At first, Ethan was about to join them, go on a mindless crusade, slaughter all just to numb the pain. Yet as he saw the X-men in action, watched them fight tooth and claw to protect people they didn't even know, something happened. Maybe he saw a way out, or maybe he was just so tired of living without purpose. Perhaps he's genuinely a good person. Either way, it sparked something within him, and Ethan found himself fighting by their side before he knew what happened, the virus fueling his powers to make him a veritable juggernaut.
When the riots died down, Ethan was not only offered a cure, but a helping hand and a place at Xavier's. For the first time in years, he saw a chance at an actual life, actual hope, and accepted the offer.
Sample Post:
He still couldn't understand why he was here. He still couldn't quite understand what he'd done, how he'd lived. He'd... killed. So many. God, he couldn't even remember how many. Just flashes, snapshots of it. Like something he'd seen in a newspaper about war in some country with a name he couldn't pronounce. Like a bad dream, or some show on TV.
Except it wasn't a bad dream or a show on TV. It was his life. God, that was his life! He still couldn't quite understand it. He knew it, he knew what he'd done, how he lived but he didn't Know it, couldn't grasp it. He just couldn't accept that he'd spent the last four years like some kind of monster. That his parents, who'd always been so nice and understanding, had just thrown him out. Called him a freak, condemned him to that... that... hell. They found out their genes had turned him into some kind of human machine and suddenly he wasn't good enough for them. It was their genes, Their fault! They'd drove him to it! If it wasn't for them, he wouldn't have done what he'd done. Wouldn't have stolen. Wouldn't have hurt. Wouldn't have become that monstrosity.
Wouldn't have killed. God, what had happened to his life? It felt like just yesterday his biggest worry had been about starting High school. Next thing he knows he's not even sure he'll live to see tomorrow. Killing just to stay alive and too numb to care, like some kind of nightmare that never ends. Felt like just a day. Felt like a lifetime.
One bad day and he turns into a killer. A mass murderer. He couldn't even remember their names, or why he'd done what he did to them. Just their faces, full of fear and anger, resentment in their eyes. What he'd done to deserve that? Nothing. He'd done absolutely nothing and the world still just turned it's back on him, left him to die alone. Only he hadn't. He'd lived, he'd done everything in his power, fought tooth and claw for every inch, every day. And for what? Just so he could get up the next morning and do it again? It never ended, never stopped.
Except it had. It was over. He was free, out of hell and into paradise. He had a bed now. He didn't need to worry about food anymore. He had teachers. He even had people he'd might call friends. People who seemed to actually care about him. He was studying again. God, he'd missed studying!
But.... it wasn't over. It would never be over, not really. He still had nightmares. Still felt guilt. Still wanted to scream till his lungs went raw. Sometimes, when he lay awake all night, just thinking of what he'd done, he still wanted back. It was an easy life, a simple way out.
He'd been hungry, sure. He'd been dying piece by piece every day, losing himself. But he hadn't felt anything. No guilt, no remorse, no anger, no fear. He'd been at some kind of peace. Life was hell, sure, but it was a life he knew. It made sense. It was simple, pure. Kill or be killed. He didn't have to deal with all the guilt, didn't have to live in a world he didn't understand anymore. Didn't have to listen to people complain about not having the right clothes or the right lipsticks or bitch about millions of tiny, insignificant things that didn't even matter like the world depended on it.
Didn't have to deal with people who didn't know what it was like. They lived their lives like they were so bad, never seeing just how good they had it. They'd never understand, not really. Sure, they could try, they could even read his mind. But in the end, you had to live it to really feel what it was like.
"Ethan?"
The sudden voice startled him, shook him from his thought. He turned, eyes focusing on the all too familiar face of Ororo Monroe.
"Are you alright?" she asked with that softspoken tone of hers.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll fine." he said as he stood from his seat, glancing around the classroom and noticing it was empty. "I'll be alright."
Player Information:
Name: mort. I'm back!
Age: 17
Contact Information: Pm, baby, one more time.
Other Characters: None, though Morph is on the way