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    1. Phloem 11 yrs ago

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GEEETTTTTTT DUNKED ON



[ 19 - they/them - ISTP - GMT+8 ]

this is phloem and i'm literally the worst
...forreal tho hmu if you wanna rp

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Robbie contemplated his next course of action as Thomas tried to guess his disorder. He certainly didn't want to reveal his hand this early on, but then again, it seemed like the other already knew about his psychopathy. It was likely that Thomas had the same thing as him, as well. In the end, he decided to keep it under wraps, at least for now. He casually reached into his mind for a viable excuse before opening his mouth to speak. His words were tinged with a sufficiently sullen tone to solidify his statement. "Alexithymia, actually. Not really a mental disorder. But Papa would do anything to keep his grubby hands on the company."

It wasn't a complete lie. Alexithymia was characterised by the sufferer's inability to identify their emotions. And his father had indeed wanted to send him away. He had learned what all skilled liars register if they’re ever to make a career of it: always appropriate as much of the truth as possible. And however short, his tale was laced with elegant touches: Using "Papa" when he had previously eschewed the cutesy sobriquet lent his story a cuddly, affectionate cast that fantastically belied the real story.

Meanwhile, Thomas had mentioned how he had ADD. To be honest, he didn't think it true, at all. But that was mostly because he knew the signs of psychopathy when he saw them. It was like looking into a funhouse mirror, the way Thomas' qualities seemed a distorted version of his own. But for now, he was happy to keep the rest of them in the dark, he was curious as to how things would unfold.
Robbie managed to keep his expression from going sour when his hand was snatched up in a vice-like grip. Turning to the offending party, his bright, blue eyes sparked with something akin to curiosity. Judging from how this... Thomas had been fucking with the other boy earlier, he didn't seem to have a proper grasp on his emotions. A sense of clinical intrigue stirred up in him as Robbie wondered how far he'd be able to push him before he broke. But, that was something for another time.

"No, no. It's fine, don't worry about it!" Robbie said, the very picture of benevolence. Shifting his gaze to April, he listened to what she was saying. Ah, so it was hypergraphia. It wasn't the most self-destructive disorder, but it was still something. He shifted slightly in his seat and glanced over at the stacks of paper in her bag.

"Hypergraphia, huh? You must be a pretty good writer." Robbie stated with a smile, making a vague hand gesture at the stacks of paper mentioned before.

"What about you, Jack? What's your disorder?" Robbie asked, throwing out the question like it was the most normal thing in the world to be in a school full of "crazies". "Oh, you guys can call me Robbie, by the way. Only my mum calls me Robert."
Outwardly, Robbie appeared the epitome of tepid disinterest, but things were actually starting to get interesting. Surreptitiously turning to watch the exchange between the two, the sudden mention of a slaughterhouse caught his attention. Nearly everyone in the country had heard of the Verger Meat Packing Company, in fact, how could they not? They controlled nearly the entire market, and it was only a matter of time until they took over it all. Papa always told him about how he was the heir of their meat packing dynasty, but now, it just seemed like a far off dream. Or nightmare, really. Spending the rest of his life overseeing the mass genocide of pigs and cattle? Not exactly his idea of fun.

Turning his attention back to reality, Robbie glanced over his shoulder at the people seated in the back. A delightful menagerie of disorders, for sure. He smoothly got up from his seat, making his way to the second to last row. Putting on his "friendly" face (he's practised it so many times he could do it in his sleep), he seated himself and poked his head out from behind the headrest.

"You two seem pretty normal." he started, raising an eyebrow as he briefly glanced at the piece of paper clutched in the girl's hand. Robbie couldn't quite decipher what the formless scribbles meant, but he'd managed to overhear enough of their conversation to realise it was part of her condition. Hypergraphia, wasn't it? Pushing the thought to the back of his mind for the moment, he put on his signature million watt smile. His disposition seemed naturally affable, but to someone especially observant, they might've been able to see through his act. "We should stick together."

"Robert Verger. Very nice to meet you both." He looked back and forth between Jack and April before extending his hand, smile unfaltering.
Robbie watched in mild amusement as one of the new kids fell to the ground, his body wracked with electrical convulsions. He'd learnt early on which guards were the ones you could mess with without consequences and which ones would tase you without a second though. Unfortunately, the long-haired boy currently writhing on the floor didn't quite seem to know how to pick his battles. At least the boy proved valuable entertainment for a few solid seconds, momentarily distracting him from the horrid stuffiness of the van. The dusty seat cover was bound to ruin his clothes, too. A white polo tee from Ralph Lauren, and a pair of stylish khaki slacks, didn't any of these people know any respect? Scowling at no one in particular, the rhythmic tapping of his full brogue shoes resounded through the van. To quell his rising disdain, he once again cast his gaze at the one still collapsed on the floor, and he was glad to say he felt better almost immediately. Ill-concealing a smirk, Robbie turned in his seat to scope out the rest of the passengers. He spotted some familiar faces, and some not-so familiar ones. No one terribly interesting... yet. But, he was confident that it would change soon, and he couldn't wait to start getting into people's heads.
Okay, changed it.
Ah, I see. Would it be alright if I changed it to 17 or?
WizardGirl said
Not Accepted


May I ask why though?


Appearance:

Name: Robert "Robbie" Verger

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Disorder: Psychopathy

History: As the eldest — and only — son of a successful businessman and his beautiful wife, Robert Verger seemed to have everything handed to him on a silver platter. To outsiders, his life was enviable. To insiders, his life was a horror story.

Robbie's parents were far too busy to deal with a young child, and so they tended to leave him in the care of a nanny. This detachment between parent and child, perhaps, was why Robbie's unusual and occasionally disturbing behaviour went undetected. Even as a young child, Robbie was far from normal; or, at least, as normal as his privileged life could let him be. He had a curiosity with playing with people, constantly lying and manipulating in order to get what he wanted. People never seemed to like staying around Robbie for long; his carers had a curious habit of never lasting more than a month at a time. Shrugging it off as the unreliability of the working class, Robbie's parents never even realized what he was capable of.

After the unfortunate death of his baby sister, Robbie was the sole heir to his parents' fortune. Problem was, his share of the family fortune had been locked away from him; his father had all but cut him off after an unfortunate incident with a homeless man in Central Park. Eager to get his parents out of the way, Robbie planned their murder. But he got careless when he carried out his plans, believing he'd never get caught. In the end, he only managed to stab his father once in the stomach before a few members of the household staff wrestled him to the ground.

Having been brought into custody, Robbie denied everything, leading some of the cops to believe that he was actually a good kid. But after several attempts to place what was wrong with him, they finally understood. He was a psychopath, his previous criminal record only confirmed the fact. While his parents had made good use of their money to keep him out of juvie before, they decided he was too much of a menace to keep around. Instead of getting sent to jail, however, he found himself at Wyvern.

Personality: At first glance, Robbie might seem like someone you could easily make friends with. He's usually affable and polite (sometimes to the point of overdoing it), but that's only if he wants something from you. In truth, he's cruel and mercurial. He doesn't abide by the rules, he doesn't play fairly, and he certainly doesn't let anyone think they can get one up on him. Despite that, Robbie is a natural charmer and has a knack for controlling people to get what he wants. He is charismatic and calculating, possessing the ability of talking his way into and out of every situation imaginable. But that doesn't mean that with his playful banter, witty remarks and outright infectious laugh that he isn't dangerous.

Crush/Relationship: n/a

Family/Friends:
Henry Verger - 51, father
Tina Verger (née Williams) - 48, mother
Emily Verger - 6, sister, deceased

Other: -
Emmett and followed Mako as they made their way to the huge hangar where all the Jaegers were stored through one of the many entrances. The voices of engineers, technicians and rangers alike slowly grew in volume, and soon enough, Emmett found himself in one of the largest hangars he'd ever been in. The one in Los Angeles didn't even compare, and there weren't nearly as many Jaegers there, either. It was kind of weird, but this was where he felt most at home. The sparks from welding torches against metal, and the sound of buzz saws were all too familiar to him. Now that he was a ranger, though, he would probably have to spend a bit more time brushing up on his boxing skills. Though Iris did promise to get him on the repair team when he actually became a ranger, so he's still got that, at least.

When they finally reached his Jaeger, his jaw nearly dropped. Despite his experience with Jaegers, their sheer size was always impressive. Putting a hand on the Jaeger, he thanked Mako Mori for bringing him here before turning back to the iron giant. Inspecting the blue and red painted finish, he noticed the special acid-proof coating he'd been told about just before. It was barely noticeable, but there was a slight sheen to the metal that indicated its presence. At this, Emmett briefly wondered if they'd ever let him make some modifications to Maximus. He already had a few ideas.
As the simulation flickered out, Emmett exhaled deeply, his breath fogging up the visor. Holy shit. He actually did it. He was a Ranger now. Well, technically, at least. He still needed to be assigned to a Jaeger, but that wasn't even on his mind. All he knew was that he passed the simulation. Truth be told, it was pretty surreal. He'd seen Jaeger pilots take down Kaijus against impossible odds on TV, and now, he was going to be one of them? On barely his second day here, no less. It was utterly unreal.

All of a sudden, Emmett was startled out of his daze by Mako Mori's voice echoing through from the intercom. He barely heard her, though, the adrenaline from the fight still hadn't quite worn off, and the sound of blood pounding in his ears drowned out all other noises. He did, however, catch enough of what Mako said to realise that he was going to pay a visit to his assigned Jaeger. Nodding in reply (there were cameras in here, right?), the robotic arms of the Conn-Pod started dismantling the outer shell of his Drivesuit. The high-pitched whining of pneumatics signalled the feet plates' release mechanisms activating, and Emmett soon exited the metal chamber.

Walking out, Emmett could barely keep the shit-eating grin off his face. The high from winning the simulated battle remained a buzzing sensation permeating his entire body, and he had to dig his nails into his palm to keep himself tethered to the situation at hand. He knew he couldn't let this get to his head, though. This was just a simulation, albeit a hyper-realistic one, and fighting Kaijus in the real world was ought to be a lot tougher and unpredictable.

He made his way over to where Mako was, containing his smile the best he could so he didn't look like a complete psycho. "Well, Ms. Mori? Lead the way."
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