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Thank you both! (not cara, because she didn't even say hello- harrumph!)
“Open cell block 17C” The officer maintained a tight grip on Deidre’s arm, though the younger woman had no intention of pulling away. Where would she go? There was a loud buzzing sound as someone else pressed a button, and the door opened. Though Deidre had jumped the first time, she wasn’t quite as skittish anymore, not to these sounds. The officer released her arm and Deidre walked into the small cell, then turned around briskly to place her hands in the larger gap in the bars as it closed once more. The officer placed a key in the slot, turned it, and then pressed her thumb print on the scanner to tell the chip inside of the cuffs that it was, in fact, an officer removing them.

The officer walked away, and Deidre watched her for a few feet before she turned to face her roommate. They were dressed alike in white clothing, a color reserved for punitive purposes like this. Color was a part of freedom, the color of one’s clothing helping to distinguish their social class. Children wore the colors of their parents, unless they were unaffiliated with a social tier, like Deidre. Adults wore colors and patterns determined by their role in society, and their station within that role. For example, a new teacher might wear a suit with a blue streak down the side, the blue indicative of education, but as they grew in experience, their clothing could have more stripes.

Members of the prison system were stripped of their colors, stripped of the status in the outside world. It was also a place where prisoners, among each other, were equal. The woman with whom Deidre shared this cell had bashed someone’s knee-caps before her incarceration. Her reason? A man grabbed her ass in a bar while she was playing pool. So she smashed the pool cue into his legs repeatedly. Deidre didn’t think it was the worst cell-mate to have. At least this woman had been provoked. And she fully admitted that she had issues with anger.

“How did it go, Deedee?” Another reason Deidre liked her roommate, Rhonda, was that the woman was actually polite to Deidre. Both of them were probably just glad the other wasn’t completely insane—nor a loud snorer.

“It was fine.” Deidre answered, moving over towards the mirror on their wall and looking at her reflection. Her gaze flickered to Rhonda, who had raised her razor thin eyebrows as if she was waiting for more information than that. “The public defender will probably be here tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Officer Bradley said that they tend to stay for a certain duration, and speak to who they can while they are here.” She explained.

“Pft.” Rhonda snorted and shook her head. “That’s the problem with those public defense guys. They don’t really care about you or I. They just work their 9 to 5 and then they go home.” She complained.

Deidre gave a small shrug, and began to pull her hair back into a ponytail, using her fingers to clear it all of knots. That was just the way things were, and there wasn’t any use on dwelling on the things she couldn’t change.

“Do you know when the trial will be?” Rhonda asked.

“No.”

“Shame. You’re too cute for prison.” The older woman grinned cheekily. “Those girls will eat you up.”

Deidre looked over at her roommate once more, chuckling lightly. She finished securing her hair and her lighter smile faded as she looked at her lightly freckled face in the mirror. Am I? She ran her fingers down the side of her cheek lightly. Perhaps she would need to fix that before the next stages of processing. She didn’t want to stand out when she went to the permanent penitentiary. Her current appearance had fared her well over the last few years. Being cute made her life a bit easier. But here, she might get the wrong sort of attention.

Coming out of her thoughts, Deedee heard that her roommate was still, in fact, talking about what would happen to the younger woman in prison. “…Then again, perhaps that will help you loosen up.” Rhonda laughed. Deidre shook her head lightly and turned away from the mirror, the sight altogether a bit depressing. Moving over to the bunk bed, she put her foot on the edge and hoisted herself easily onto the top bunk, the old metal bed-frame only groaning mildly in protest.
I hope I am not terribly late to things...

I spoke with Specter and Cara about my character concepts before I posted one, and Spec went ahead and okayed me posting in the IC. I didn't want to surprise anyone with it, so I am just sending a quick note here to say hello, and I shall start an IC post shortly.
Here is my application for Archon of Ice. :)

Name: Deidre (Deedee) Marquez
Age: 25
Archon of: Ice





Physical Attributes
[b]Appearance:[b] Deidre is average. She has long brown hair, and wears reading glasses occasionally that she doesn’t really need. Her complexion is almost olive, and her skin is generally flawless. However, Deidre works hard to maintain this appearance. Naturally, she has pure white hair, solid black eyes, and skin that almost looks gray in the night. Her nose is very flat, with small openings and almost no shape. Deidre covers her skin, just in case, and likes to wear layers.

Physical Weaknesses: Her body will change to its natural form if she is injured. She isn’t terribly strong, and if she changes forms to a burlier one, she still has to build the muscle mass if she wants to do more than intimidate.

Physical Strengths: She heals quickly (in her natural form), and can reset her own broken bones. She is good at running, both short and long distances. She took a taekwondo class after school for years and can defend herself in a physical fight.

Mental Attributes
Personality: Deidre is a secretive person, but she likes the idea of being outgoing. As such, she tries quite hard to be sociable and friendly, and is easy to follow other people’s leads. People think that she always keeps her cool, but it is really that she doesn’t wear her pain or heart on her sleeve. Guys tend to think that she is distant, which is true. Deidre doesn’t like how she pushes people away, but had a hard time doing anything else. She doesn’t know why she was born a freak, but she is grateful that she can make herself normal.

Likes:music, documentaries, card/board games
Dislikes: chick flicks, art museums, dating
Phobias: Being seen as herself, and called a freak. Singing in public (and having her voice change)

Background
Biography: Deidre didn’t know her parents. She grew up in a group home for children, in a world filled with only humans. She had asked a few times what happened to her parents, if they had left her, or been killed in an accident, but she received different answers every time. When she learned what was wrong with her, she was terrified, and did her best to hide it. That meant making sure she looked enough like the other kids to pass off as normal, as human. She tended to have problems throughout her life with maintaining this façade. When the other kids gradually aged, she didn’t. She had no idea how to control that aspect of her appearance, and so she tended to look younger than the other children who were meant to be her age.

Deidre tried to stay out of trouble, and out of fights as a child. She learned quickly that if she were injured, her skin would begin to change, and she was terrified of it coming out as to what she was. When she was old enough to look it up at a library, she found only myths and legends of monsters. She didn’t feel like a monster, and she didn’t want to be treated like one, so she did her best to become invisible, in a figurative sense of the word.

As she became a teenager, and other children from the home began to stay out late and break rules, she had to as well—to keep from standing out. She was still polite and generally timid, but when the other children told her to walk down the street and distract a man so they could steal his wallet, she didn’t feel as if she could refuse. When they told her to wait with a friend’s car for them to arrive and then drive them to another friend’s house, Diedre of course obliged. She didn’t know that the car was stolen, and so was the contents of their bags…well, a part of her did know, but she chose to ignore that information. These were her friends, and she supported them. That’s what friends did…right?

Combat Information
Typical form of combat:taekwondo- a bit rusty, but knows how to not get assaulted by creepy guys, loved archery when it was done in school
Preferred Team Role:Field medic (couldn’t afford to send kids to the hospital every time they fell off something), distractions through shapeshifting, or voice changing.
Weapon:nunchucks
Unique Equipment:possessions are like people, disappointing when we expect much out of them.
Genkai, I am so sorry. Things with me lately just...haven't been very good. I would love to give our game another shot, but I understand if you aren't willing. I was sort of brain-dead, and by the time I felt like I could write again, I felt like it had been too long and would just be stupid to respond to our game.

I have a bunch of really important work stuff this week, but I hope to have my head on straight by the weekend. If you are willing to give me another shot, I would still need to ask for a bit of patience as I try to catch up on life first.
No worries-- I am really patient, and still really sorry about my own delay. Take care of yourself first!
”Bring her back here. I will call 911.” A tall, dark-haired man said, gesturing to Jamie, and another man, who was blonde. They were both holding the arms of an unconscious woman, who was bleeding from multiple injuries. Jamie seemed to trust the man, and he lifted the brunt of the weight as the other man unlocked the door and pushed it open. They brought the woman inside and rested her on the table. “No, you are not calling anyone.” The blonde said, a bit threatening in his tone. The man that Jamie arrived with seemed hesitant about trusting some stranger, but Jamie was insistent. Even the dark-haired man seemed surprised by Jamie’s trust. “He’s a stitcher!” She claimed. The man’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about… I am not—“ He was cut off as the man bluntly argued. “Shut up. Can’t you see she’s dying?!” He asked, gesturing to the darker skinned woman once more. The man looked between the group, and then groaned, turning his attention to the woman, tending to her wounds in moments.

Jamie was jolted awake by the usual, culprit, electric shocks to her system. Her eyes snapped open as her muscles tensed and tightened. She let out a scream, but stifled it after a few moments on her own. She knew that it only made her situation harder when they made her suffer the consequences. The Division had their labs set up very well. They knew what Jamie was, and they wanted to know what she saw. She had thus far resisted for the most part, but she was losing her will. Every morning she was woken with shocks, and then a vice came over the speaker, demanding to know what she saw. She usually gave BS responses, things that she thought they might want to hear, but they didn’t mean anything, and they sure as hell weren’t the things she actually saw.

“I see myself frolicking in a freaking field.” She said, spitting. A few more shocks jolted her, and made her feel ill. They liked to get her drunk, which made her visions stronger, and lowered her inhibitions. As a result, she woke to shocks, in addition to a hangover…every, single, morning.

“You are never leaving this place.” The voice said, and then it cut off. Jamie took a few deep breaths, trying to center herself, without going back into the visions. That was the hardest part. She wanted to escape, but if she hid in her visions, if she continued to watch, then they would drag her out and demand answers. Jamie must have fallen asleep at some point, and she woke when people were unstrapping her from the chair and dragging her down a hallway. She pulled her arms, but the grip tightened. Those in the Division made sure to limit abilities, but there were some areas where they wanted the supernaturals to still have their abilities. The walk was long, as they were bringing Jamie to a building where she couldn’t have her visions. Her powers were blocked here, and she could feel the weight on her as they entered the area.

They brought her to a room with another man, which surprised her greatly. Before, she had shared a room with a woman. It hadn’t gone very well, though. To begin with, the girl was incredibly weak, and because she was weak, Jamie had tried to harden. They didn’t want Jamie to harden. They wanted her to feel as if it was hopeless, like she was never going to get anywhere. Further, she started to have visions about the girl, and they wanted her to have visions about some other people… like the son of a pair that they had disposed of quite a few years before. The man, Samson, was strong, and could certainly pose a threat, given the right circumstances.

Being around someone who still remembered the feeling of sunlight on their skin might make her feel even worse, and since it was an apparently stubborn and obnoxious man, she might just give up and give in. What the Division had not realized, however, was that their watcher already had a vision of the man who would become her roommate, she just had to pull the pieces back together. Jamie fell to the ground when they tossed her in the room, and was slow to get up, still obviously a little drunk. When she saw the man, her eyes widened, but she kept quiet. She wasn’t going to tell them that this was the man she saw. Instead, she backed against the wall and sat down, pulling her legs up against her. She needed to rest, and the less she talked, the better it was for everyone.
So, this is an awful time to ask, but I thought that when you suggested they were in the labs and going to escape, that they had been there a while. Is it alright if my character has been in the labs a while, and is maybe transferring rooms to room with one of yours?

Huge apologies for the delay. Work got hectic and my brain had a hard time functioning very much.

~~

Edit- I got a post up! I didn't put Mason in too much, because he wouldn't be involved in this, really, and depending on how long they are in the labs, I didn't want to have to write a ton of posts about him working at a coffee shop. Let me know if there is anything I need to do/change!
The swim wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t the most difficult thing, either. The man passed her, and sat on the shore, once again clearing his boots of water as she was still getting carried down the current. When she finally reached the other side, she was a hundred yards downstream from him, and she was exhausted. She climbed to a dry area and simply lay there for a few minutes, concentrating on her breathing. Fortunately, it was still morning, so it wasn’t terribly cold out, but the sky was still overcast, so she wasn’t going to be able to just lay there for a while and dry off easily.

Her stomach began to rumble, and she knew that she needed to get up and actually wring her clothing out, as well as get her back so that she could eat something before they continued. Hopefully the man at least kept her bag out of the water, as he had promised. She took a few minutes to get up and meet him partway, beginning to get grumpy from the time that they were spending traveling. As usual, the man didn’t say much, and she was honestly beginning to miss the yelling and screaming that went on in her own home. She took the bag when it was offered, laying it over her shoulder, and took another drink of water. She would have to move a bit slower, because of the thick fabric of the dress, and the way it threatened to cling to her legs, but she didn’t really have a better option.

Hopefully there were no thieves about because she was certainly not being stealthy as her feet made wet squish sounds with every step that she took. The next few hours, once again, passed in silence. She ate an apple as they walked, growing hungry for more but not adventurous enough to just try something random that she saw growing. She dried, for the most part, but the sky never really did clear up. She made him stop again so that she could excuse herself and relieve herself in the woods another time, feeling like it was only her who had to do other things while they walked. This man was apparently content with walking until the season changed.

“How much further is it till we reach a proper town?” Rhys asked upon returning to him. She was getting really tired, and she wasn’t sure how many more days of walking she could manage. Her body was not built for this sort of thing, and she knew she would be absolutely horrid company by the morning.
When the man actually spoke to her, using more than a simple sentence, Rhys was shocked. He said that they needed to cross the river, but he didn’t want to force her to cross when she wasn’t comfortable. Rhys looked at the water’s speed, and though it wasn’t like the lake they had fallen into outside of town, it didn’t look like too brisk of a current. She opened her mouth to respond when he sighed and spoke again, admitting that he was being a jerk.

At least now he told her why he was being a jerk. She began to secure her bag as she thought about her own response, knowing that she had to handle this carefully, since he was a temperamental individual. “I understand that you want to keep me out of whatever it is that makes the guard search for you...and I won't press for information. But if they decide that I am involved, and that I do know things, it won’t matter that it isn’t true.” It did not matter if she knew nothing about the stranger, because the guard would never believe that he had never told her a name, or indicated where he was going. If they found her, she was in trouble no matter how much she knew. In some ways, she agreed that it was better not to know, because then she couldn’t give them honest answers when they tortured her for information. But then again… she might see where he was going even if he didn’t tell her, one of these nights.

Changing the subject a bit, Rhys walked up to the river beside him. “Do you think there is a chance of not soaking my clothing through?” She asked, hoping that the superficial question would help break any of the tension from their very brief earlier conversation. The river was deeper than she thought, even near the shore, though, and she really didn’t have a chance. With a resigned sigh, Rhys decided it would be better to cross now. She took her leather satchel and handed it to the stranger. “If you could keep this out of the water as much as you can…There are things in there I would like to not get wet.” She admitted, knowing he had seen her book at some point—whether or not he had noticed it was another matter.

When he was ready as well, she lowered herself into the water, picking out a spot on the opposite shore and describing it. If she kept that spot in mind, then at least she could aim for it. Foolishly, though, the spot she picked was directly ahead of them, rather than acknowledging that she was going to end up moving with the current quite a bit as she tried to make her way across.
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