Oh, you thought Yeshua would be nice now?
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Haha.
Ha.
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Haha.
Ha.
Cassowarysaur Member
The Evangelizer
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A lone boy skipped down the west wing corridor in the Solaire Facility. He had just been to the Mess Hall where his meal had consisted of a drink and two chunks of brocolli. He wasn't hungry; and he worried that he would overeat if he had anymore. Being a soldier was tough as he was told again and again, but if it made people happy, Yeshua cheered, he would do it to the best of his ability. He carried a heavy ebony duffel bag, tightly zipped and slung over his shoudler. He spun around in the empty space he found himself in, with no one around to watch him. It was liberating to be without the company of others who couldn't match his bolsteringly upbeat personality. He wasn't sure why everyone seemed so afraid of him, and it was this feeling of loneliness that had made him go through this detour. He knew he had to speak to his good friend again.
Rushing into the room, slipping back and forth on his two feet, he tripped and rolled down onto his stomach. Sliding on the metal grating, his shirt was ripped slightly. He giggled incessantly. What fun it was, Yeshua thought. The deep chasms of his mind were replaced by waterfalls and cliff faces, which he dared to climb or fall down from. The rush of air that embraced him whenever he fell was awesome to the boy.
Looking at his shirt, he pouted.
"Oh, darn my diligence, that is the fourth shirt this week! What are the fish going to think?" He laughed, hands gripping the railings as he flipped his head side to side in an attempt to ruffle his hair. It was much shorter now, but it had grown out in the last two months. He had got to know all these interesting people who he only hoped to please, but who seemed to shove him out of the way. He was an eyesore to their beautiful view. He just didn't know what they were all looking at.
"Shucks, do you think they understand me?"
The Anzu, standing tall and towering over him, responded. Its white metal shell was almost lost in the darkness. The boy was still trying to pursuade Lorenzo to turn on the lights in the cages.
"Come to me. I cannot hear you."
Yeshua leaned forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the railing. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with air, pushing his lips out.
"IS THIS BETTER?"
The Anzu's eyes darted towards him. It let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of its nose.
"Yes. They do hate you. But you have the river. You're better than them."
The boy took his feet of the bars of the railing and placed them on the floor. He got lost in the eyes of his friend, which were bigger than his face. Yet, Yeshua remarked, they had a warm, inviting glow.
"Oh, don't be such a spoil-sport! What is more to the world than a smiling grace and a warm embrace, huh?"
"You spoke to me later today. What kept you?"
Yeshua placed his right hand on his chin. He rubbed his dirty face and scrunched his eyebrows like a child would scrunch a wrapper.
"I ALMOST convinced Lorenzo to turn on the lights. Do you like it here, in the dark?" He pouted. "It's scares me."
"Do not be scared. You should come to me."
Yeshua shot a worried glance at his friend before turning his back towards him.
"You know I cannot do . . . that. I should go now. I need to breath."
The Anzu shifted in its place. Its long, coiled ears slid down and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"You always breath. Stop. Please, this is for the best."
Yeshua laughed a hearty laugh, followed by him coughing intensely. He dropped to the floor and wiped his face from the saliva that had just accumulated. He wiped it on his shirt.
"They made their choice. He broke his rib, he wanted to suffer. I don't. They won't let me."
His eyes darted back to his bag. He giggled as he unzipped it and brought out two broken ends of a pool cue. He stared at the ends; they were splintered and covered in blood.
The pool cues were thrown with extaordinary strength at the Anzu, falling into the chasm beneath its feet.
"This is my body. I give it to you, now."
The Anzu frowned, the metal contorting and its apapendages shifting.
"What are you still here for?"
Yeshua grabbed the duffel bag and became to walk away.
"Ani lo yodéʿa, monster."
The sun continued to gleam in the midday weather. Clouds had scurried away to their chambers, an old furnace keeping them warm while the air seemed to be on fire. Colour jumped at the boy as his muddy shoes found a cobbled path. He followed it, past the green bushes and yellow daffodils, by the red roses and the blue violets, past the morn of the cliff and the break of the stones. A bluff yawned and the woods, unaware of his presence by the flowing river, continued to stare at the sky. Apples and oaks, the sycamores and birches, drew their hands together as Yeshua approached the rapidly running river. Their green leaves shuffled, putting their hands in front of their mouths. Yeshua laughed as the trees blushed at his presence. He grabbed the apple of the nearest tall titan, stroking the ripe fruit. He ripped it from its hold and stared at it for a few seconds. It was shiny but he couldn't see his reflection; he couldn't see the boy on the other side of every mirror.
Finding the opening he desired, he sat down on the side of a smooth rock that the water had turned from rough to invaluablely beautiful. He stroked the smooth texture and shivered slightly. The warm air became humid as the water rushed past him at level ground, his nose a fishnet to the river, both wet and hot. There was no sound apart from the rushing water, no person here apart from the boy and the river, no emotions apart from gleefull bliss and the beauty of nature, no animal apart from the fish darting around in the pearl white water. He saw them leap like gymnasts, yet they had no training. He was kind and a God among them, yet he was not malevolent.
"Abba . . . is this what you wanted?"
A fish was grabbed by his hands from the water. He took its slippery tail and threw it into the air. It flayed like a morning star and landed back into his grip. It wanted to go back to its spawning ground, the home of its people. It had no home.
The fish was smashed repeatedly on the side of the rock, its bone cracking and flesh tearing.
"Stop! I am trying to help you! They won't let me!"
Crack. "Abba!" Crack. "Abba!" Crack. Grunt. Crack. "Abba!" Crack. "Abba!" Crack. His hands slipped and he skinned his palms. They stung as if they were dipped in fire. It had exposed, red flesh.
The fishs eye was suddenly reduced to a pulp as finally the squirming ceased, only a flimsy lump of flesh in its place. It lifted the fish up by its tail and made eye contact with whatever was left. It was like it had been put through a meat grinder. There was nothing resembling the animal it used to be. It had been contorted and misshapen by its owner, vicious and cruel. The fish also looked disgusting.Its scales glistened in the wind The body remained lifeless as it threw the flesh into the river. It looked at its bloody hands and the rose-stained rock. The fish, if it was alive, would have drowned anyway.
Its hands connected with its face. Its soft touch was absent.
The crying began once again.
Rushing into the room, slipping back and forth on his two feet, he tripped and rolled down onto his stomach. Sliding on the metal grating, his shirt was ripped slightly. He giggled incessantly. What fun it was, Yeshua thought. The deep chasms of his mind were replaced by waterfalls and cliff faces, which he dared to climb or fall down from. The rush of air that embraced him whenever he fell was awesome to the boy.
Looking at his shirt, he pouted.
"Oh, darn my diligence, that is the fourth shirt this week! What are the fish going to think?" He laughed, hands gripping the railings as he flipped his head side to side in an attempt to ruffle his hair. It was much shorter now, but it had grown out in the last two months. He had got to know all these interesting people who he only hoped to please, but who seemed to shove him out of the way. He was an eyesore to their beautiful view. He just didn't know what they were all looking at.
"Shucks, do you think they understand me?"
The Anzu, standing tall and towering over him, responded. Its white metal shell was almost lost in the darkness. The boy was still trying to pursuade Lorenzo to turn on the lights in the cages.
"Come to me. I cannot hear you."
Yeshua leaned forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the railing. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with air, pushing his lips out.
"IS THIS BETTER?"
The Anzu's eyes darted towards him. It let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of its nose.
"Yes. They do hate you. But you have the river. You're better than them."
The boy took his feet of the bars of the railing and placed them on the floor. He got lost in the eyes of his friend, which were bigger than his face. Yet, Yeshua remarked, they had a warm, inviting glow.
"Oh, don't be such a spoil-sport! What is more to the world than a smiling grace and a warm embrace, huh?"
"You spoke to me later today. What kept you?"
Yeshua placed his right hand on his chin. He rubbed his dirty face and scrunched his eyebrows like a child would scrunch a wrapper.
"I ALMOST convinced Lorenzo to turn on the lights. Do you like it here, in the dark?" He pouted. "It's scares me."
"Do not be scared. You should come to me."
Yeshua shot a worried glance at his friend before turning his back towards him.
"You know I cannot do . . . that. I should go now. I need to breath."
The Anzu shifted in its place. Its long, coiled ears slid down and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"You always breath. Stop. Please, this is for the best."
Yeshua laughed a hearty laugh, followed by him coughing intensely. He dropped to the floor and wiped his face from the saliva that had just accumulated. He wiped it on his shirt.
"They made their choice. He broke his rib, he wanted to suffer. I don't. They won't let me."
His eyes darted back to his bag. He giggled as he unzipped it and brought out two broken ends of a pool cue. He stared at the ends; they were splintered and covered in blood.
The pool cues were thrown with extaordinary strength at the Anzu, falling into the chasm beneath its feet.
"This is my body. I give it to you, now."
The Anzu frowned, the metal contorting and its apapendages shifting.
"What are you still here for?"
Yeshua grabbed the duffel bag and became to walk away.
"Ani lo yodéʿa, monster."
The sun continued to gleam in the midday weather. Clouds had scurried away to their chambers, an old furnace keeping them warm while the air seemed to be on fire. Colour jumped at the boy as his muddy shoes found a cobbled path. He followed it, past the green bushes and yellow daffodils, by the red roses and the blue violets, past the morn of the cliff and the break of the stones. A bluff yawned and the woods, unaware of his presence by the flowing river, continued to stare at the sky. Apples and oaks, the sycamores and birches, drew their hands together as Yeshua approached the rapidly running river. Their green leaves shuffled, putting their hands in front of their mouths. Yeshua laughed as the trees blushed at his presence. He grabbed the apple of the nearest tall titan, stroking the ripe fruit. He ripped it from its hold and stared at it for a few seconds. It was shiny but he couldn't see his reflection; he couldn't see the boy on the other side of every mirror.
Finding the opening he desired, he sat down on the side of a smooth rock that the water had turned from rough to invaluablely beautiful. He stroked the smooth texture and shivered slightly. The warm air became humid as the water rushed past him at level ground, his nose a fishnet to the river, both wet and hot. There was no sound apart from the rushing water, no person here apart from the boy and the river, no emotions apart from gleefull bliss and the beauty of nature, no animal apart from the fish darting around in the pearl white water. He saw them leap like gymnasts, yet they had no training. He was kind and a God among them, yet he was not malevolent.
"Abba . . . is this what you wanted?"
A fish was grabbed by his hands from the water. He took its slippery tail and threw it into the air. It flayed like a morning star and landed back into his grip. It wanted to go back to its spawning ground, the home of its people. It had no home.
The fish was smashed repeatedly on the side of the rock, its bone cracking and flesh tearing.
"Stop! I am trying to help you! They won't let me!"
Crack. "Abba!" Crack. "Abba!" Crack. Grunt. Crack. "Abba!" Crack. "Abba!" Crack. His hands slipped and he skinned his palms. They stung as if they were dipped in fire. It had exposed, red flesh.
The fishs eye was suddenly reduced to a pulp as finally the squirming ceased, only a flimsy lump of flesh in its place. It lifted the fish up by its tail and made eye contact with whatever was left. It was like it had been put through a meat grinder. There was nothing resembling the animal it used to be. It had been contorted and misshapen by its owner, vicious and cruel. The fish also looked disgusting.Its scales glistened in the wind The body remained lifeless as it threw the flesh into the river. It looked at its bloody hands and the rose-stained rock. The fish, if it was alive, would have drowned anyway.
Its hands connected with its face. Its soft touch was absent.
The crying began once again.
I've got a really interesting post in mind, coming up in the next few hours.
I see. So, here's what's gonna happen in the time-skip regarding our resident lobotomite: Yeshua will be kept in the med-bay's classified section for a week or so after the training's begun for the rest of the pilots before he's integrated back to it; people will be shocked, of course, and even after two months nobody gets used to his new behavior, not even Mai.
Suggestions can be made regarding this.
That sounds fine with me. I'll just be glad to advance the story, given how much I've already made happen on the first day.
Poetic stuff, but the end was confusing; did the bear talk in the end?
Oh, I've changed Yeshua's "colour" to pink instead of purple to represent the change. He said the last line.
I've posted Yeshua after his lobotomy. I hope you all enjoy what he's become now.
Out in the wilderness, past the tall, scaling walls of the Solaire facility, nature did not stir. It slept in the dawn, only the birds reaching the canopies of the trees and letting forth an extravagant song. It could not be translated or appreciated but simply heard. The green grass swayed like bristles on a brush, cleaning the air and sky. Trees stood tall and strong under the evening wind. A river rushed by, salmon leaping in and out of it. A hungry bear stalked them, clutching its claws and waiting at the mouth of the waterfall, half a mile away. It raised its massive snout and sniffed the air, a bothersome change in breeze interrupting him. The bear shuffled on the rocky slopes, might grey slabs much heavier than itself, to look at the Solaire Facility far away.
From the distance, it appeared like a prison, with barbed wires and sloping, impenetralble walls. The hungry bear turned back to the water, suddenly swiping forward and knocking a fish out of its territory. It lay on the ground for a second, flipping and turning incessantly, before the bear's claws dug deep into its flesh.
Blood made its way onto the green grass but the bear only seemed to care about its meal. It had eaten; as the young cubs came up behind it, dawdling and rolling in the dirt. They shared what little they could. Young bodies squirmed and giggled as they hid in the thick coat of their mother. It had children; as the helicopter flew overheard and caused the animals to skitter back into the forest. It had protection; they arrived at the dug-out, turned up logs and muddy mounds making a shelter in the cold. It had purpose; as the sun shone through the cracks and holes between the trees. The brown coat it wore allowed it to disappear into the broken world. Before retreating to its burrow, the bear looked again at the alien building, a fortress of food, safety and purpose. It wondered in this extreme circumstance, if anyone was looking back.
Yeshua was looking back.
A bandage wrapped around half of his head, covering his right eye. It was tied behind his hair; it had been cut just before the surgery. The shaggy and unkbrushed nature was gone, the hairs only slumping a few millimetres off his scarred scalp.
His white hospital gown blended into the broken world behind him. A plastered wall held his back, while a window bigger than him, starting at his toes and not even stopping at his head, shot up to the ceiling. He raised his left hand and pressed its warm skin along the glass. The sun has just escaped behind the woods, the last glimmers of sunlight still a sign of hope.
But the warm glow of the orb had faded; it was fading, Yeshua corrected himself. His right hand eventually fell upwards, grabbing onto his left wrist. His skin was smooth and far from dry. It had youth falling off it, like a burn under a cold tap. He felt numb. As the sunlight seemed to fade, another young man stared back at the boy, from behind the glass. He had a bandage on his young face. It was not sculpted correctly. A potter had just left his masterpiece waiting to fix itself on its own. A chill ran down his spine as he noticed his eyes looked not at him, but the wall behind. They were fixated with an unfamiliar emotion.
Was it sadness?
The boy drifted away, but Yeshua wanted to talk to him. He felt he knew something he didn't. A broken lock without a key. He looked down to his feet; they were bare and cold under the tough floor panels. They hadn't been cleaned for days. They scraped at his soles.
Looking back up, there was no boy. In fact, there was nothing at all. Only darkness was there.
"Cadet Horowitz, we recommend you go and get some rest. Aren't you tired?"
An older man, bespectacled and holding a clipboard in one hand, had turned off the lights. The shaders of the glass had changed to not let anylight in. A soft whirring had begun without Yeshua noticing, and as it ceased, all the light drained out of the room.
If the glass had just broke his sight of the evening world, Yeshua wondered, then why did he still want to see the bears? The river still flowed, the sun still fell, the light still faded. Now there was just a barrier between them, but he knew they were there. Who would want to shut out just a beautiful sight?
"I implore you to come with me, Mr. Horowitz. We have some clothes for you to get changed into." He stated, standing at the door. He waited for some time, but no movement was made. The doctor opened his jaw once again. The boy had not moved
"What are you looking at?"
Yeshua continued staring into the darkness. It was empty, to the Doctor at least, but he could see through their facade. His father had taught him that; how to see what you couldn't. How to build a house out of bricks you couldn't cement. How to climb a ladder with no rungs. No one knew their little secret. As he continued staring at the black pit, his eyes widened. The bear stared back!
"Tut tut, Doctor! What a time to be alive!"
From the distance, it appeared like a prison, with barbed wires and sloping, impenetralble walls. The hungry bear turned back to the water, suddenly swiping forward and knocking a fish out of its territory. It lay on the ground for a second, flipping and turning incessantly, before the bear's claws dug deep into its flesh.
Blood made its way onto the green grass but the bear only seemed to care about its meal. It had eaten; as the young cubs came up behind it, dawdling and rolling in the dirt. They shared what little they could. Young bodies squirmed and giggled as they hid in the thick coat of their mother. It had children; as the helicopter flew overheard and caused the animals to skitter back into the forest. It had protection; they arrived at the dug-out, turned up logs and muddy mounds making a shelter in the cold. It had purpose; as the sun shone through the cracks and holes between the trees. The brown coat it wore allowed it to disappear into the broken world. Before retreating to its burrow, the bear looked again at the alien building, a fortress of food, safety and purpose. It wondered in this extreme circumstance, if anyone was looking back.
Yeshua was looking back.
A bandage wrapped around half of his head, covering his right eye. It was tied behind his hair; it had been cut just before the surgery. The shaggy and unkbrushed nature was gone, the hairs only slumping a few millimetres off his scarred scalp.
His white hospital gown blended into the broken world behind him. A plastered wall held his back, while a window bigger than him, starting at his toes and not even stopping at his head, shot up to the ceiling. He raised his left hand and pressed its warm skin along the glass. The sun has just escaped behind the woods, the last glimmers of sunlight still a sign of hope.
But the warm glow of the orb had faded; it was fading, Yeshua corrected himself. His right hand eventually fell upwards, grabbing onto his left wrist. His skin was smooth and far from dry. It had youth falling off it, like a burn under a cold tap. He felt numb. As the sunlight seemed to fade, another young man stared back at the boy, from behind the glass. He had a bandage on his young face. It was not sculpted correctly. A potter had just left his masterpiece waiting to fix itself on its own. A chill ran down his spine as he noticed his eyes looked not at him, but the wall behind. They were fixated with an unfamiliar emotion.
Was it sadness?
The boy drifted away, but Yeshua wanted to talk to him. He felt he knew something he didn't. A broken lock without a key. He looked down to his feet; they were bare and cold under the tough floor panels. They hadn't been cleaned for days. They scraped at his soles.
Looking back up, there was no boy. In fact, there was nothing at all. Only darkness was there.
"Cadet Horowitz, we recommend you go and get some rest. Aren't you tired?"
An older man, bespectacled and holding a clipboard in one hand, had turned off the lights. The shaders of the glass had changed to not let anylight in. A soft whirring had begun without Yeshua noticing, and as it ceased, all the light drained out of the room.
If the glass had just broke his sight of the evening world, Yeshua wondered, then why did he still want to see the bears? The river still flowed, the sun still fell, the light still faded. Now there was just a barrier between them, but he knew they were there. Who would want to shut out just a beautiful sight?
"I implore you to come with me, Mr. Horowitz. We have some clothes for you to get changed into." He stated, standing at the door. He waited for some time, but no movement was made. The doctor opened his jaw once again. The boy had not moved
"What are you looking at?"
Yeshua continued staring into the darkness. It was empty, to the Doctor at least, but he could see through their facade. His father had taught him that; how to see what you couldn't. How to build a house out of bricks you couldn't cement. How to climb a ladder with no rungs. No one knew their little secret. As he continued staring at the black pit, his eyes widened. The bear stared back!
"Tut tut, Doctor! What a time to be alive!"
<Snipped quote by Cassowarysaur>
...sound-proofed room? Some asshole apparently didn't like hearing people play the instruments in the music room.
And to the statement in your last comment, I didn't join this RP for giggles either. I joined for some awesome mecha action and deep, dramatic character relationships. The conflict between the two of them was inevitable, but I think it would've been better if placed after the time-skip-thing...
In hindsight, and foresight, I don't think I would've minded the death so much in that case. At least then it would seem a little more spaced out from the other shit with the MIA player characters, and in theory should be more impacting to the other characters. Because to newer characters like Alyssa and Orion, and maybe even to everyone except Elora, Koehler's demise wouldn't be near as important as getting rid of Yeshua. And, ultimately, his punishment could've been death at that point.
-
Also, you did make me feel very ill, as I have somewhat of a phobia towards the mentally-challenged/ill/unhinged. I was practically burning up with a fever when I read the post, which I guess is pretty good writing to me...for my level of tolerance to the sort of thing.
I guess I did a good job then! (at making you feel ill . . . )
But this is just the end of the first (short) chapter, as the timeskip should prove. Yeshua's amazing lobotomy should herald amazing results, while Koehler's almost-dying should change him as a person! The next big hurdle for my character is going to be finding his identity; who he is, and why he's still alive. An existential problem all teenagers have to face.
@Penultimate_Pi
Idk about you, but I was starting to think my character Alyssa would be in the recreational area playing piano in the music room and just say she went there before it all happened and be there, playing in the sound-proofed room, while it happened. That way, idk, maybe Ritsu or somebody comes around to tell us after the fact? Cause I have no clue if our characters should know or not...
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Wait this is still day 1? That's already a lot of cadets to have cycled through...
You could be playing the Piano and hear a commotion outside, and go outside to see a flipped table, a smashed tray and blood on the floor. You could always talk to Lora about it and who you think could be fighting or just talk about Piloting in general. Yeshua tried to squeeze some information out of Ritsu about piloting, but it didn't work.
EDIT: Also, if I've made everyone feel ill and creeped out, I've successfully written a very creepy post. Manipulating people's emotions is the BEST!
It just feels so jarring. You'd think there would at least be a bit more escalation to the kind of behavior that showed up (and I know realistically there wouldn't be so much of that). I mean, it's still the first day, we're not even close to our first mission with the Cruzi and we're already nigh-literally killing each other.
I understand all the circumstances behind this, am I'm not trying to point fingers, it's just... ugh. I don't even know, myself. Right now, I'm just waiting for a collab that I should probably give up on at this point, but now I don't know how to respond to all this. So much has suddenly gone down that I'm having trouble playing catch up and judging where and what Lora would be in all of this. But maybe that's my fault, more than anyone else's.
Oh yeah, it's still the first day! However, I think you could tell from the few collabs I've done with the rest of the peeps that Yeshua always had a problem with contact. He was shielding himself away from the world for too long, becoming too bitter and too cold. I wouldn't just write him breaking for the sake of it; I had no need to, but it just went with the moment. At that point, Koehler had just broken him by inconsiderate violence. If I remember, he was laughing at him while his face seemed to be melting. It was humiliating (remember when he kept saying he didn't want to be "weak", just like he belittled Elora?) and he wanted to prove he was strong, which eventually ended up with him almost killing Harold. It works, trust me, even though it's dark and nasty. I didn't sign up for this RP for giggles.
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