A young woman walked down the narrow streets, little light showing through the darkness. She was wearing a long traveling cloak with the hood up to hide her features and she was carrying a bag at her side. The woman approached a small alleyway and walked into it, noticing all the people laying beside the wall. Whenever she got close to one of them they whimpered and moved away from her icy cold glare. She approached a single door set into the wall and looked up to see a window above it. Smiling, she sunk her fingernails into the bricks and started to climb, oblivious to the people staring at her.
Once she got to the window she held her hand over the lock, snapping her other fingers. The lock sprung open and she stepped inside, her cloak billowing in the wind. She stepped over to the single closet and hid inside, knowing that the kid would be scared when they first saw her.
(Basing this off Cirque Du Freak, please be a kid but not too young.)
Once she got to the window she held her hand over the lock, snapping her other fingers. The lock sprung open and she stepped inside, her cloak billowing in the wind. She stepped over to the single closet and hid inside, knowing that the kid would be scared when they first saw her.
(Basing this off Cirque Du Freak, please be a kid but not too young.)
Garen silently rounded a corner that led into a corridor that passed the dresser Jade was occupying at the moment. He was fourteen, but looked thirteen, and had dark brown eyes. He wore an old torn vest thy was too small for his build, a raggedy old beret that had been patched up many times over, and pants that were old and had many stains. He walked slowly down the hallway shivering vigorously, be was obviously cold and hungry. The only way the kid was able to make money was joining fight clubs from time to time. He was a natural fighter for he could calculate almost anyway to take down his opponent.
But the trait that Garen possessed that left him an outcast was he with held magic. He had no knowledge of this until he was around the age of eleven and he was shipped off to an orphanage because of hi parents death. The headmaster there was strict and distributed daily whippings everyday even if the children didn't do anything wrong. She believed in absolute order and responsibility. But one day she had crossed the line. Jenny, his dear friend had become sick and was very ill. When the headmaster had barged into the room Jenny had sneezed, covering the front side of her dress in snot.
'You should respect your elders!' She screamed at her in furious rage. The vice still echoed in his mind. Finally after at least thirty to fourth lashings Garen had enough. The next time she tried to whip her he grabbed her hand. In utter shock of what he hand done she slicing him across the face with the whip, from his bottom lip to his right eye. Garen cried out in agony. After he shed tears he began to think of the darkest thoughts he had ever thought of. He stood and turned to face the headmaster. 'Enough!' He had yelled at her as a dark chain formed around his wrist. The old woman was petrified at the sight of the pith black chain.
With a simple flick of the wrist he hand sent his headmaster flying out the nearby window. After that he ha run away as the police had begun to look for him. As he recalls stage memories he brushed past the dresser. He stopped in his tracks as he heard the peculiar sound of breathing protruding from the dresser. "That's odd," he stepped back raring at the two wooden doors that open the dresser. His eyes narrowed at his next remark. "Dressers don't breathe."
But the trait that Garen possessed that left him an outcast was he with held magic. He had no knowledge of this until he was around the age of eleven and he was shipped off to an orphanage because of hi parents death. The headmaster there was strict and distributed daily whippings everyday even if the children didn't do anything wrong. She believed in absolute order and responsibility. But one day she had crossed the line. Jenny, his dear friend had become sick and was very ill. When the headmaster had barged into the room Jenny had sneezed, covering the front side of her dress in snot.
'You should respect your elders!' She screamed at her in furious rage. The vice still echoed in his mind. Finally after at least thirty to fourth lashings Garen had enough. The next time she tried to whip her he grabbed her hand. In utter shock of what he hand done she slicing him across the face with the whip, from his bottom lip to his right eye. Garen cried out in agony. After he shed tears he began to think of the darkest thoughts he had ever thought of. He stood and turned to face the headmaster. 'Enough!' He had yelled at her as a dark chain formed around his wrist. The old woman was petrified at the sight of the pith black chain.
With a simple flick of the wrist he hand sent his headmaster flying out the nearby window. After that he ha run away as the police had begun to look for him. As he recalls stage memories he brushed past the dresser. He stopped in his tracks as he heard the peculiar sound of breathing protruding from the dresser. "That's odd," he stepped back raring at the two wooden doors that open the dresser. His eyes narrowed at his next remark. "Dressers don't breathe."
The doors too the dresser drawer burst open and the woman stepped out, her cloak billowing around her slender figure. The cloak hid most of her facial features and her body, the only thing you could see was her black hair. He doors slammed shut behind her and she stood towering over the young teen. She leaned against the wall and propped her foot up against it, crossing her arms over her chest. "Saw you at the fight club, you have quite a knack for fighting." She said, her voice coming out beautiful and smooth.
She had followed him around last night and followed him to the fight club where he took down his opponent in thirty seconds flat. After that she had done some research and found out he was an orphan, lucky her. It was easy to find the records, all she had to do was wait for night to roll around and look into the county records. Sighing, she looked the young teen up and down, wondering what had drawn her to him.
She had followed him around last night and followed him to the fight club where he took down his opponent in thirty seconds flat. After that she had done some research and found out he was an orphan, lucky her. It was easy to find the records, all she had to do was wait for night to roll around and look into the county records. Sighing, she looked the young teen up and down, wondering what had drawn her to him.
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