Ugh, I have no idea why but I've suddenly run into a problem that really isn't as complex as it should be and I'm definitely overthinking it. I wouldn't imagine David running to Martin's rescue in his current state yet I feel that neither leaving or stepping in would lead to much that I could write... ah screw it I'll make David walk out like a coward and wing it. Post should be out today.
Done my post, if anyone wants to speak to David for god knows what reason you can go ahead and sacrifice yourself to be the person he bumped into else it'll be just some random. I'm assuming that the fire alarm is ringing from the dorms as well since it's on the campus... You guys think it's cliche for something to occur as soon as David steps out of his room?
I included a short list of whatever David has in his pockets because why the hell not?
Grand Ridge - Male Dorms - David's Room David awoke from his dream. It was unlike any he had recently, for sleep provided the only comfort from the memories that played throughout his mind. As long as he was awake he would remember. This time was different, he wasn't there - at least not as he was used to; instead of seeing from a third-person view he was within himself, observing the scenes unfold.
David stood up from his bed, slips of morning light shone into his room from the cracks in his curtain. Dust flowed through the air and glinted in the light-yellow rays. From the incident, hours began to spread into days for David. It became a chore to differentiate one day from it's prior, to live within them was a virtual impossibility. Not with what David has seen, what he had felt, what he had done... After the woman attacked him, after he had set her ablaze, how could he simply continue on as though nothing changed as those around him expected him to do? He didn't deserve to live after taking a life, so he shriveled back into the Academy day to day. He secluded himself within his room most hours - the only exceptions being to acquire food, lessons and hospital check ups.
David raised his arms to eye level, observing them in the dim-lighting of the room; Slowly turning them around to view them at different directions. Several layers of clean, white medical bandage still coated his injuries and hided them from view. Underneath them were stitchings than bound his separated skin together. The wound he received would have begun to heal and would no doubt leave a scar as a reminder. Although his shoulder was worse off. In the lowly-lit room the scar tissue lit up, the discolouration seemed more noticeable when the light didn't shine so strong. The wound itself spread like roots from the source, that further from meant the wound would be thinner.
David rests his finger on the source and then traces it downwards, careful not to inflict pressure that would causes him to stiffen or recoil. He shouldn't be doing that, the wound also had stitches although it had previously been covered by what could be thought of as a large plaster - a fabric kept in place over his shoulder with a large, transparent tape which had since peeled off. All that protected the wound from infection would be David's morning shower and the applying of clean bandages. Orange eyes appeared in David's mind. He sighed and pulled his hand back down to his side, the constant barrage of reminders that showed in his mind no longer shocked him, guilt was the only feeling it brought. Guilt he could live with, if you can call his sorry state a life.
David stepped over to his desk, to his side mirror and to examine himself. He'd gained weight for sure, if only a bit. His stomach stuck out a tad he could pinch more skin than he used to. His face had changed greatly, the lack of shaving had caused a beard to begin growing - much too long to be a stubble yet not enough to officially be a beard. David ran his fingers through it before pinching a tuff and gently pulling it, now that he knew beards could hurt he'll have to make sure to shave before he ever really gains one. His near-bald head of hair had grown out to a similar style as Bear Grylls and his eyes kept a squint, almost non-existent and unnoticeable yet it's effects could still be felt by David, feeling the slight strain on the muscles.
All in all he felt different, although not enough to get a tattoo... David looks at his left shoulder, what should be clean untouched skin lay a black smear. David didn't remember acquiring the inking, and he certainly didn't lose any money. He had attempted to scrub it off numerous times yet all it caused was red skin. It was a mystery, luckily one that could be hidden simply with a shirt - to which he put one on. Though crumpled it was relatively clean, dry and scentless. The light gray colour barely visible within the room.
As he changes into school-worthy apparel, he thinks back over the month after the incident... They were interviewed by the police and fellow students alike - those who hadn't been at the scene wouldn't stop asking the same questions over and over. Of course there were several times when one of the survivors was accused, though they never amounted to any real trial or investigation. Everyone was at ends about what occurred, nobody in power believed the story of a mutated 'Scott Reese' a name David had learnt over time. Still, everybody expected him to continue as normal - lessons and all. People questioned him after he missed the first lesson after the ordeal, David not being aware that he was expected not to pent up or mourn in school time. He kept to his schedule, though his revision fell behind what it could be. He didn't have the willpower any longer, not while he was by himself.
Shuffling on the other side of the room turned into a groan, David's roommate was still asleep at this time. God knows how that was possible, David usually woke up around seven and either waited in bed till a later time or packed and headed off to grab breakfast. Sleeping till eight was off-putting. I could do with a pack of crisps. The idea pops into David's head before receding to whatever recesses of his mind it came from. Needing not to wake up his roomate, David slips on a pair of shoes, stepping over his penny-board, grabs his satchel and steps out of the room into the hallway only to bump into the back of a passerby without looking. "Uk-" he begins whilst turning to whoever he hit, yet he didn't finish the action. The fire alarms blared out across the hallways and into the surrounding rooms. "Sorry mate, looks like we've got to go." David states before walking away from the still unidentified person - towards the exit of the building.
Little did he realise, his tattoo faded from a faint luminescent blue to the unlit black David had come to expect.
Dorm Keys,
School identification,
Notepad,
Pencil Case (With pens, pencils, a rubber, ruler and sharpener),
David's Phone,
David's Wallet (Excluding Credit Cards which he keeps in his room) - two twenties and a tenner,
Gonna roll out a bunch of PMs for potential interactions soon - I'm working on a post and I'll do it.
I've been busy writing my character as though he's been in the dorms since he's staying there currently. Perhaps Justin could visit unless he's somewhere else just before the explosion (if we notice it from the dorms).
"Phobi-abilities"? So we gain powers relating to our phobias... m'kay cool.
So for the setting we're the test subjects, we're we actual volunteers or would we be forced to partake in these tests (via kidnapping or for food to eat)?
[sub][color=yellow][h2]Damn chief this place is empty you should turn back[/h2][/color][/sub]
[sup] 22 | Englund[/sup]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><sub><font color="yellow"><div class="bb-h2">Damn chief this place is empty you should turn back</div></font></sub><br><sup>	22 | Englund</sup><br></div>