[center][h1]Somewhere in Seattle[/h1][/center]

He woke to the chill of unfamiliar air, jumping with a start under a strange tree. Looking down at himself, he saw himself wrapped in a forest green jacket, underneath that bring a turtleneck sweater of similar coloration. He was also wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, and some boots as well. As he worked to stand, he notice something hanging around his neck, a piece of shell that naturally curled into a spiral. It was tied by a thick leather strap, and as it hung around his neck he could swear he could hear it whisper to him, with voices as gentle as the breeze. 

[i]Where am I . . . Who am I . . . and why do I feel do cold?[/i]

The man hugged himself as he felt anothe wind pass through him, and while it didn't fill him with the same level of chill, it still felt colder than he was used to. Or at least, that's what he felt like. His mind told him nothing about his past, nothing except for two names: Quetzalcoatl and Damien. Neither name held any more information than that, but he felt more of a draw towards the first one. He focused on trying to squeeze some knowledge from the thought, but alas, his amnesia held firm.

Finding no point in just sitting here, Quetzal rise from his seat, noticing a green bag not far away from him. There was no one else around so it must've been his. Picking it up on his way towards . . . where ever his current path led him. As he made his way through the corpse of the city, he felt a tickling sensation spark in his mind. [i]Seattle, that was what this place used to be called. So many lives used to be here, so many hopes and dreams . . . and now all that's left is an empty shell.[/i]

Quetzal sighed, unsure why these thoughts came to him, or why he felt such pain at the desolation around him. These feelings were soon swept aside by the sound of a scream tearing through the night, and before he even knew what he had heard, his body was already rushing towards the sound, his previous depression giving way to a sense if worry for the safety of the person he had heard. Soon, as he made his way through desolate city streets, he finds a group of men surrounding a single woman, the glinting of their blades visible even from this distance. 

The sight brought a white hot rage to ignite in his stomach, though it was tempered by the cascades of disappointment and shame that accompanied it. [i]The world is falling down around you, yet you choose to act like animals in the face of the end. This . . . this is not what humanity is supposed to be. You're better than this savagery.[/i] Quetzal walked forward, announcing his presence with a loud shout of "Hey!", causing the men to turn around to see who had come to interrupt their fun. 

Standing alone was a tall, lanky looking man, with a myriad of brought colors to make up his coarse hair, which stuck up like spikes from his headin a backwards sweeping fashion. His eyes shone an intense jade green, seeming to radiate with a hidden energy. Alas, a single man was far less intimidating to a group, especially when that man was sorting rainbow colored locks like Quetzal.

"Can you believe this clown, fucking idiot wants to play hero?" 

"Ha, he doesn't look like he could take on one of us." 

"I say we show him exactly how much of an idiot he is. Who knows, might make a fun pet to kick around every now and then."

The bandits grunted and muttered in agreement to the idea as they approached Quetzal, who stood there, unfair aid if the men before him. His eyes locked in the leader, a savage looking man who had made the suggestion of making him their pet. Without any hesitation, he went right up to the man, looking him square in the eye.

"Look here, my friend, this is wrong and everything about is sinful, disgraceful, and below you. You, all of you, are better than your base instincts to kill, steal, and-" Quetzal's speech wa cut short as one of the men kicked him in his stomach, knocking the breath right out off him. This set off a chain reaction as the rest of the group start to take their turn kicking and punching the man as he lay there, until the leader held his hand up, signaling them to cease. Without a word he pointed to where the woman was, only for the rest of his gang to see that she had fled.

"Looks like you played the hero pretty good after all, Mr. Self-righteous," The leader said as he put his foot in the back of Quetzal's head, pressing his head deeper into the dirt. "Meh, not as much use for you, but we needed a pack mule anyway. Got a name, you little shit?"

Quetzal looked up at the man, his head ringing from the multiple blows yet still he held defiance in his eyes as he said not a word. The leader shrugged, brining his foot up or one more stomp. As time seem to slow down, he felt a surge of energy push through, a vitality that rushed through his body like a raging gale. Suddenly, all the bandit's for pushed back aways, one even knocking into the inside of a building, causing it to destabilize and fall right on top of him. The rest would turn to see Quetzal rise from the ground, his eyes flowing as he subconsciously gripped his Pendant. Blood began to flow from his hand, sliding out of his skin and converging on the spiral, traveling down to the center to make a small ball. After that was done, a wave of exhaustion hit, causing him to falter slightly. The pain he felt right now was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to his anger and rage. As the bandits rose up, looking to seek vengeance upon him, he simply swiped his hands in an X-pattern.  

Suddenly, they all fell to the ground with a pained shout as a pressurized blast of air smacked into their ears, rattling their brain and possibly rupturing their inner ears, but they'd live. He could've easily focused the blast and killed them, though how he knew that he was unsure, but then he'd be little better than them. Looking down at the bandits, Quetzal began to walk away from the square, only to fall to the ground, no longer being able to support his own weight. His vision was going in and out and blackness creeped along the edge of his vision. With the last of his strength, he gathered his energy to send out an intense burst of white light, one that could easily be seen by anybody in the area. And then he thought no more, joining the bandits in unconsciousness.