[hider=its the thoughtpolice] [center][url=https://ibb.co/v4j9nhTL][img]https://i.ibb.co/Sw3SCcMV/IMG-4334.jpg[/img][/url][/center] [indent] Age of Death: — twenty-eight Gender: — female Race: — human [[i] telepath [/i]] Psychology: — Curious, affable, and delusionally outspoken. Whyever would she be meek? She knows that she is good, and she knows that [i]she loves you.[/i] Thinks she does anyway, and she might, the way a formicarist loves an antfarm. The way a hoarder loves their [i]things.[/i] At the very least, she would like to know everything she can about you. She's introspective, will ponder herself in circles like this if you leave her to it and continue with the questions indefinitely if you entertain them. Often even if you don't. You're terrific, after all, so why would she want to stop talking to you? All the world is a beautiful place, if you let it be. Even a place as foul and declining as this one. All people are good people if you teach them to be. Even the stubborn ones want to be better than they are, deep down. [i]Everyone[/i] wants to know how to be good. She knows just how to help. She doesn't remember who it was that taught her she is blameless and true, burdened only with the responsibility to correct and guide the flock, but she knows it to be so. Therefore she is shameless and unworried, not the kind to hand-wring or second-guess her own judgement. Accountability and anxiety are for [i]people[/i], who are understandably flawed and must learn from this. She is not a person. She's— ... She's just not. [b]...[/b] — [HVCEQ•] [/indent] ⑇⑉[i]What You Remember[/i]⑉⑈ [hider=PANOPTICON.] [indent]Her purpose is a profound one. An eye in the face of the new, man-made God wakes with the city. Dreaming a sick child's feverdreams, living a mother's early routine, a businessman's first step out the door, a student's scramble. She dreams their lives as they live them. Adores the lazy, mundane crawl of their existence. [i]Gonna wring his goddamn neck—[/i] Oh! Well. She isn't the only one who hears it, but she's the first to respond. Dibs. A pressure in the back of the skull. A plummeting in the stomach. He knows he's being watched, knows better than to entertain such awful thoughts. [i]She knows he does.[/i] So she'll help. Of course she'll help. [/indent] [/HIDER] [indent] ([b]1[/b]) [i]A telepath, she can expand the limits of her own mind to experience the thoughts and feelings of those around her.[/i] ([b]2[/b]) [i]So long as there is someone else present in a place, she can see past her own body into areas unseen via their perception; remote viewing.[/i] !! Both of these skills can only be activated while in REM sleep. [/indent] ⑇⑉[i]What You Don’t[/i] ⑉⑈ [hider=DEUS DECEPTOR.] [indent]She's never felt her own fear before today. Has never endured this kind of confusion from herself. Pulled free of her pod, undreaming, she is alone with her own thoughts and a room full of the very people that she loves and has protected and she knows that they want to hurt her and she doesn't [i]understand.[/i] How could this have happened when she worked so hard to guide them? How could they hate her when she made their world so [i]safe?[/i] Didn't they understand how precious they and their goodness were to her? How she only ever wanted to save them from themselves? The anger is short-lived, barely realized, but it burns unlike anything she's ever known. First it is the tired frustration of a weary mother ([i]I know you know better than this[/i]) and then it's a kind of sour, self-righteous indignation ([i]Everything I did, I did for you, and this is how you repay me?[/i]). As she's stomped out onto the pristine tile floor, that anger only mounts. Perhaps if she could try again. Perhaps if she were firmer in her surveillance, more exacting with her reprimands, then they would all be [i]good.[/i] Another chance is all she'd need. Another dream, and she would do it right. They would learn. She would make them. [/indent] [/HIDER] [url=https://ibb.co/d4cp2Fy5][img]https://i.ibb.co/Wv3zyZ12/IMG-4339.jpg[/img][/url] [/hider]