[hider=Sander Lorraine - Aberration - Exsanguinate]
 [color=cyan][h3]  ℕ 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent]Sander "Sandy" Lorraine[/indent]
[color=cyan][h3]  𝔸 𝕘 𝕖 :          [/h3][/color]
[indent]17[/indent]
[color=cyan][h3]  ℍ 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent]6’1’’ [/indent]
[color=cyan][h3]  𝕎 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent]170lbs[/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  𝔸 𝕡 𝕡 𝕖 𝕒 𝕣 𝕒 𝕟 𝕔 𝕖 :          [/h3][/color]
[indent][center][url=http://eleth89.deviantart.com/][img]http://i.imgur.com/qgElxi7.png[/img][/url][/center]

[center][sub]Character illustration by [url=http://eleth89.deviantart.com/][color cyan]eleth89 on DeviantArt.[/color][/url][/sub][/center]

Tall and gangly, Sander does not seem sure of his limbs, yet his movements are hardly awkward. He moves slowly, tentatively, talks softly, and always seems like he’s trying to making himself as small as possible, though it is a little bit hard with his tall frame. In his younger years, an interest in track and field has given him some definition, but he still looks quite unhealthy with his fair complexion. On the left side of his ribs, three prominent scars dotted his skin. They are obviously gunshot wounds, with corresponding exit wounds on his back. His hair is a dark brown mess with blond strands mixed in, which he grows out. From the way it looks, it is obviously he spends far more money on hair products than he cares to admit. His eyes are blue, dull and frozen not unlike the winter sky. Other than that, his other facial features remain unremarkable, albeit a little bit sharp on the eyes. When socializing, Sander wears a plain smile, though it hardly ever reaches his eyes. 

However, there are also days when he has gone without violence for too long and his Stigma gets bad, Sander found himself in an almost homicidal mood. He retains his smiles, mostly because they have become almost second nature for him, but his eyes flickered and his limbs twitched as he reined in the violence. It is best to avoid him when he is in these sort of moods, but it is likely that he would go out of his way to avoid others as well. 

Sander’s choice of apparel can be best described as ‘casual’. He wears comfortable t shirts and jeans on each and every occasion, putting on shorts and tank tops when he’s feeling sporty, or a hoodie when the weather turns cold. Despite the informal tone of his apparel, Sander is not sloppy about his appearance. His clothes are always freshly washed and immaculate, and it is rare for him to wear the same clothes twice in one week. 
[/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  ℙ 𝕖 𝕣 𝕤 𝕠 𝕟 𝕒 𝕝 𝕚 𝕥 𝕪 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent] 
At his core, Sander is an idealist, likely due to the influence of his family. He sneers at the term ‘subnaturals’, firmly believes that his people deserved the recognition for all the sacrifices they made. This somewhat dangerous belief, combined with events of his past and his Stigma, became the fuel to his unrelenting yet directionless rage. However, with his keen sense of observation, he is no fool. He had seen how far the government was willing to go to dispose of troublesome subnaturals and what his people were capable of when left to run amok with their powers. The need for order is clear. 

So to survive, he learnt to play their games, and he played it well. To most, Sander seems even-tempered and approachable for an Aberration. He buries his emotional baggage deep, with the occasional outbursts that mostly result in the destruction of nearby furniture. Many would probably notice his compliance to most of USARILN East’s rules. Some people might perceive such obedience as weakness, to Sander, it was a way to rein his rage in. While not as moody and melancholic as many of his fellow Aberrations, Sander does have his own way of keeping people at arm’s length. For all his friendly demeanour, he remains a deeply private person and hardly ever voices his true opinions.   
[/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  ℍ 𝕚 𝕤 𝕥 𝕠 𝕣 𝕪 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent] 
There was not much to say about Sander’s early life. He grew up in a regular middle class family in North America, had brother 5 years his senior and was blissfully ignorant of his power for the first 12 years of his life. However, the tentative peace shattered once his brother’s power and involvement with a powered crime organization became known. Eventually, the government came for him; their modest family home was soon surrounded by armed men. However, Mr and Mrs Lorraine was not inclined to give up their eldest son, and his brother was not keen on surrendering either. The situation soon escalated into violence, then Sander couldn’t recall much more after that. From what people told him, he took three bullets to his side and spent the next month in the nearest hospital. However, once the staff found the large X on his throat, he never got to go home again. 

Ever since, Sander moved back and forth between facilities, undergoing various assessments and tests. His record wasn’t exactly pristine, there had been instances when his rage got the better of him, which always resulted in damages to himself and others.  As his behaviours slowly re-adjusted into the realm of the acceptable, Sander finally got transferred to USARILN East. [/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  𝕄 𝕒 𝕘 𝕚 𝕔 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent] 
[i][color=cyan][center]Exsanguinate[/center][/color][/i]
Through the consumption of blood, be it human or animal, Sander gains enhanced physical capabilities as well as heightened senses. The more he consumes, the more potent these augmentations becomes, though it takes a couple of minutes after feeding for the physical effects to fully activate. Once a limit is reached, he gained invulnerability as well as the ability to heal from any wounds he had received before hand, though this healing process is tedious and quite prolonged. However, if this limit is then ignored and overcame, Sander will enter a state of frenzy, losing his ability to reason, his invincibility as well as his sense of self-preservation. The fact that he found the crimson fluid impossible to resist does not help in the slightest. While he does not need blood to survive at all, he just feels the urge to consume it. It makes him feel strong and vibrant, not unlike the effects of some conventional drugs. When he’s on one of his blood high, his irises glow a haunting crimson.

Upgrade 1: Sander can know absorb blood through skin contact. While doing this, he will be engulfed in a crimson glow as the blood seeps into his skin. This method of absorption is faster than directly ingesting the blood, which also means it is easier for Sander to lose control.

Upgrade 2: Sander can now tag one target through physical contact to draw blood from. This method of consumption is slower than the other two, but he could better control the input. The ability has a maximum range of 100m, and once used, both him and the target will be engulfed in a red glow.  

Upgrade 3: Now he is able to share his invulnerability with one target he had drunk from in his stage 3. He didn’t have to touch the target, but they would have to stay within 2m of himself. While this ability is activated, both him and the target will glow red, however, the duration of stage 3 will be halved for Sander.  

Upgrade 4: Sander’s next upgrade unlocked. He can now convert the blood he consumed into a backup power source of sort and draw from them at will. The storage lasts up to a day. He can also select which stage he would like to be in and spend the appropriate amount of blood to stay in that stage. New infusion of blood will go into maintaining and prolonging the stage he has chosen. The maximum amount of blood he can store is equivalent to the amount he needs to reach stage 4 normally. The telegraph for this is wisps of red smoke rising from his torso.

Upgrade 5: His power is now slightly more manageable. The crash and the desire for blood haven’t changed, but in the high, he has more control now—though not complete control.

Outside of stage 3, either above or below, Sander’s power can convert consumed blood into armor as a crystallized blood layer on his skin/clothes.

Sander’s ultimate upgrade: Sander’s control over his power has vastly improved, allowing him to fully control himself even in stage 3 and mostly able to in stage 4. He can also share his invulnerability with 3 other people as long as he has drunk their blood before. He can also fly, even outside of the blood high. Even though he can fully control the directions, his flight speed is little more than a balloon floating. He can carry one person with him in his flight. His withdrawal symptoms have also drastically improved, and he can stay in within the blood high much longer now. 

[/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  𝔻 𝕣 𝕖 𝕒 𝕞 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent] 
Unlike many of his fellow mages, Sander does not find it easy to distinguish between his ‘good’ dream and the bad one. They both started with a sea of blood and the fume of scorched flesh. His eyes stung as he waded forward, but he was not alone. Allies dogged his steps, both strange and familiar faces at his side as he pushed forward. He felt their blood pulsed as clearly as his own heart beats, and he couldn’t help but smirk. 
 [i]“What will it be?”[/i]

[i] “Maestro?”[/i]
 [/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  ℕ 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 𝕞 𝕒 𝕣 𝕖 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent] 
In his nightmare, Sander did not, or rather, could not move freely in the pool of blood. Thick chains encircled his wrists, and the liquid kept rising steadily, its heat choking and curling down his throat. He struggled to no avail, staring helplessly at the single spark of light above as the blood slowly engulfed him. Its last words echoed softly, chafing his already frayed nerves:

[i] “Or Monster?”[/i]

 A snap, then metal rings came apart. He was torn asunder as he rose above the waves, white knuckles clinging to the cobble wall. 
[/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  𝔸 𝕨 𝕒 𝕜 𝕖 𝕟 𝕚 𝕟 𝕘 :          [/h3][/color] 
[indent] Aberration[/indent]

[indent][color=cyan]  𝕊 𝕥 𝕚 𝕘 𝕞 𝕒 :          [/color][/indent] 
[indent][indent] 
Sander is plagued by the memories of his family being slaughtered while he stood by and did nothing. He combated these thoughts with the rationalization, but parts of him are well-aware it wasn’t just the will to live that held him back. Furthermore, his situation since had not improved; the regulars stood above his people like dog lords, twisting and cutting the strings to their lives, while he bowed and grovelled like the rest. But what can he do? What will he do? 
[/indent][/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  𝔸 𝕣 𝕞 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕥 𝕤 :          [/h3][/color]
[indent]xxx[/indent]
[indent]You have none, yet. You will get some as the story progresses. Keep track of them here. Some of them might be really important or something, I don't know.[/indent]

[color=cyan][h3]  𝕋 𝕙 𝕖 𝕞 𝕖  𝕊 𝕠 𝕟 𝕘 𝕤 :          [/h3][/color]
[indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Ga4F0_xGQI]The Bird with a Broken Wing[/url]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSYnOeO5rdk]In My Veins[/url]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_WmSPTkmBTA]King[/url]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dziVbZmbl-E]Nothing And Everything[/url]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKlgCk3IGBg]Waves[/url]
[/indent]


[/hider]

[hider=A peak into Sander’s thinkpan] 
 [color=cyan]“You caught me at a very bad time, ma’am. Haven’t slept well lately.”

“But you’re right, I wouldn’t speak the truth otherwise. Please, let’s get this over with before… Well, we both want to go home at a decent hour tonight, don’t we?” 

“First up, [color=00ffbb]Lawrence Ellison[/color]? Everyone calls him Doc. I don’t. Why? Nicknames imply some degree familiarity, while he and I are definitely not friends. Not that he is unpleasant, quite the opposite. His power gives him that calming aura and it serves well. It takes the edge off my thoughts when he’s near. My problem is with his personality. Logic and rationalization is his wall, neutrality his pedestal. How long will he continue to hide?”

“Ah, but then saying that would make me a huge hypocrite now, wouldn’t it? Let’s move on.”

“[color=lightcoral]Lilliana Brandt[/color] is, well, capricious. I don’t know her that well, but she isn’t quite stable with her mood swings, but then, aren’t all Aberrations? We will see how it goes.”

“Next is [color=8A3DFF]Emma Halwell[/color]. Friendly, proper and peppy. But she wears a mask, and when you look closely, there are cracks. Hey, it takes one to know one. She calls me Sandy sometimes, and I let her. Not many people call me that anymore, ever since I dyed my hair brown…Makes it harder to see the blood.” 

“What about [color=0095FF]Grant Rotem[/color]? Well, hard to say, since he doesn’t do much. A self-styled slacker, I believe. I don’t blame him, since what there is to do in this so-called school? Not all of us wanted to be here, ya know?”

“[color=red]Christopher Drake Francis[/color]. Yes, I know him. The lizard boy. Call it a dragon if you’d like, I just see a huge lizard. For a supposedly cold-blooded creature, he is surprisingly hot-headed. And venomous, too, but I guess that fits. He’s not the easiest person to get along with, no, but I suppose I don’t mind his remarks. His words rang hollow, if anything.”

“Next is [color=a2d9ce]Callan Webb[/color]. She…um…likes those superheroes types, right? Tries to become them, even. Might not work out though, since they are more ideals than people, but well, live and let live. How she spends her time is not my business.”

“[color=662d91]Kusari Bloodworth[/color]…disturbs me. It’s not hard, with a name like that. She dwells too much on the dark sides of things and it feels as if she doesn’t even care anymore. Hadn’t cared for a while. It scares me. If I let go, if I…submit, will I become like her?” 

“[color=6ecff6]Padma Majumdar[/color]? Ah, the British chick. Sorry, I forgot who I am talking to. Anyway, yes, I know her. I see her sometimes when I go out for my morning jogs. Yes, I still jog sometimes, would you prefer I lock myself in a room and claw at the walls? But back to the topic, I think she is proper and organized, and quite sure of herself. Which is good. We can all use a little certainty.” 

“You want my opinion on[color=33ec06] Marcus Howell[/color]? Alright. He smiles, he jokes around, he just does whatever to fill the silence. It is as if he’s compensating for something. But overall, I think he means well.”



“The next one is [color=palevioletred]Zoe Fletcher[/color]. Huh. Isn’t she the redhead, tall with blue eyes? Yes, I know her. She doesn’t mince her words and looks you straight in the eyes, which is refreshing. But I think she needs to rein in that temper of hers. Violence is the language of the incompetent. I know, it’s rich, coming from me, but it’s not like I have any choice on that matter, alright? Then again, she might not be so different.” 

“[color=fff79a]Hazel Baker[/color]. I will give this one a pass. For the sake of my…Fine. You asked for it. Just look at her. What do you see? [i]What is left[/i]? I do not know much about psychology or whatever, but the girl looks like she could use professional help. But instead, you people collared her like a dog and put her into this glorified prison of a school...”

“Ahem. I am sorry. I was…out of line. I do not know all the facts. Can we speak about someone else?”

“[color=ff57ff]Siena Santana[/color]? What there is to say? All I see is a wealthy young girl with her head in the clouds. There is something wrong though. I’m not quite sure myself. Maybe she has been up there for too long?”


“[color=9e0039]Angélique Lachance[/color], right? Is that how you pronounce it? She’s just another Aberration with issues, if you ask me. But hey, that’s the minimum requirement for joining our club. She has good control, I will at least give her that. Listens to very loud music though, like Lincoln. I have sensitive hearings when…you know.” 

“[color=a187be]Allison Revel[/color] keeps an approachable façade, though it is not hard to see that unlike Emma, hers is far from benign. I have no love for manipulators, you of all people should know that. Not to mention the rumours about her…appetite.”

 “The amount of rage [color=crimson] Savannah Churchill[/color] manages to contain in her pint size body is staggering. It is unhealthy. She needs an outlet, but…don’t look at me. I have my own demons to fight.”

 “Who’s next? [color=8493ca]Christmas Halvost[/color]? He’s rather meek. Dude’s afraid of many things. I don’t blame him, really. I’m scared as well, but at least I have my rage to fall back on. What does he have? I pity him, if anything.” 

“Ah, [color=silver]Alexis Hunter[/color]. You must think we have a lot of in common. I’d admit, I think so too. But interactions with her only prove me wrong. I hold no illusion about myself and the world, ma’am. When I look, I see shades of grey. I believe we can do better, but the grey is still there. Alexis doesn’t see that though. It would be her downfall.” 

 “[color=gold]Aaron James Erikson[/color]. The clockwork mage. I’d admit, I hold him in high regard. He keeps his head up and forges forward. He doesn’t wallow, like many of us here, and that’s quite impressive.”

“[color=B0C4DE]Brent Roless[/color] is energetic, even when he doesn’t have a reason to be. That guy doesn’t do half measures. He always gives it all, always goes all the way. It is all or nothing for him. Sure, he has that drive going for him. What I don’t get, is his motives. What for?”

“[color=00a99d]Ernest Mars[/color] is trouble. You know I don’t enjoy violence. Yes, I really don’t, despite what it looks like on the field. The rush is…overpowering, and it prevents me from feeling much else. But this isn’t about me.”

“Ernest does not hesitate to use force to get what he wants. That spells trouble in my book.” 

“I have enough demons up here. Don’t pair me with another one.”

“[color=BD892F]Sophia Lemane[/color] is quiet. Not sure if she is shy or just dislike socialization in general. I mean, we don’t have a shortage of those types around here, do we? Still, she seems kind and mellow. Like a mother-figure kind of person, you know?”

“Finally. Are we done? I want to actually get some sleep tonight. Good. Then I will take my leave.”

 However, about the…things you promised. Can you put them in a proper container this time? Like the ones you used in the lab? Bags are messy, even when you use straw.” 

  
[/color]
 
 [/hider]


[hider=Proof that Jan is a creep]
“You are right. I do. For example, you have the lovely stench of rabbies and rotten pomegranate. Maybe consider some cologne, hmm?”

“Wouldn’t help much though.”  

“I don’t see why you need to know this. No, I don’t see why this can affect my effectiveness in field. You’re just being a creep.” 

“But if I must…Just know that I expect timely compensation.”

“It’s always something akin to food. Not exactly like food, but close. How do I put this? They smell…savoury. Bags are just desirable, like canned food. Animals smell raw and earthy. Bugs and fishes just turn my stomach.”

“I don’t know why. Maybe something up in my brain is wired wrong. Do you think I want this?  

[color=red]Christopher[/color] Tabasco. Hot sauce. Whatever you call it. Sharp, with a bite. When he is…a lizard, he is odd. Like pine needles. Not something you put in your mouth. 

[color=Crimson]Savannah[/color] If you want a name, it would be…meaty. Like processed meat. Something you have in a pinch, but not always.

[color=9e0039]Angélique[/color] She…grapes. She smells like grapes. Maybe a note of wine? 

[color=ff57ff]Siena[/color] You thought I would say book, didn’t you? Hah. No. It would be jam. Sweet. Good on bread, but little else.

[color=palevioletred]Zoe[/color] This one is…tempting. Like those mango flavoured Cruisers. Yes, I just admit she smells good, but that’s that. Don’t twist my words into something perverted.

[color=lightcoral]Lilliana[/color] Strawberries. Definitely strawberries. 

[color=gold]Aaron[/color] Chocolate. The bitter kind. 

[color=fff79a]Hazel[/color] She is an exception. Sterile. Plastic. You know that smell of pharmacists’ and labs? It is wrong. She shouldn’t…but I digress. It is not place. Nor yours. 

[color=33ec06]Marcus[/color] Herbs. Green garnish. Holiday dinners.

[color=00ffbb]Lawrence[/color] Wheat. Dry crackers. No, not the flavoured kind, the plain ones. 

[color=a2d9ce]Callan[/color] Hot summer days and fizzy drinks.

[color=6ecff6]Padma[/color] Earl Grey tea. Yes, very specific. Full-bodied with a citrus note and quite…aromatic. Ahem. Let’s move on.

[color=0095FF]Grant[/color] Plain. Very plain. Rice. That sounds about right.

[color=8493ca]Christmas[/color] Coffee. Undiluted and hearty. Promise a rush of blood to the head. Warm.

[color=a187be]Allison[/color] Cookies. Yeah, definitely cookies. The vanilla scent of baked goods. Far too sweet for my taste.

[color=8A3DFF]Emma[/color] Again, sweet. Candies, lollipops or jawbreakers. Manufactured sweetness. 

[color=662d91]Kusari[/color] Wrong.

[color=silver]Alexis[/color] I’d say…smoked salmon? Something like that. Not particularly salmon, but just smoked meat in general. 

[color=B0C4DE]Brent[/color] He has the scent of apple cider. 

[color=00a99d]Ernest[/color] He smells like that drink my mother used to make for me on Christmas. ‘Mudslide’, I think it was called. You know, add coffee liqueur, vodka and bailey. Give it a shake, then put some cream on top. I know, I shouldn’t be drink alcohol that young, but it was a festival thing, ya know. She didn’t put much vodka in mine anyway… My mother was not an alcoholic. Please, don’t talk about her like that. 


[hider=Straining The Rivets]
At first, there was the rising sun. 

[quote]He watched the red rimmed horizon with a smile on his lips and an itch in his growing limbs. 

His world was rhythm when red track flowed backward beneath him. One two, one two, rinse and repeat. It was simple. Never easy. But he enjoyed it. There was solace in its certainty. Until the track ran red, and he sank. Blue eyes and golden hair brought him back, but he knew that hand, and he knew what it had done. Would have done. He loved and feared in equal measure. 

Voices rang in his ears. They were talking, with him, to him, over him. But not about him. This was never about him. He hugged himself under the oak desk, waiting for the storm to pass. This one wouldn’t though, of that he was certain. At least, not without loss. At least, he could choose who to lose. He chose.

He was doing the right thing. 

He thought he was doing the right thing. [/quote]

He watched the rising sun, still. When the fog in his head cleared. When his chest loosened enough to breathe. 

[quote]Even against shimmering sunlight and his shaky breaths, she stood out. Still with golden hair and blue eyes, a touch softer and five years too young, but he could see the similarities. Or he was just seeing ghosts. 

She didn’t tell him why she was here. He never cared enough to ask. Theirs were quiet moments hidden in the crack of dawn, when she spoke about the white sand of her home and he listened, glassy eyed and twitchy. Then the stories would end when his fingers came away sticky and red. [i]Just the healing itch[/i], they said, [i]don’t touch it[/i]. 

He was digging the bullets out. And he was tired of finding nothing. 

He was tired of being nothing. 

He was so tired.[/quote]

Even the sun set in paradise. Even dead men dreamed. 

When it was his turn, he chose release. Ever the fool. Ever the coward. [i]When will you learn?[/i] Echoed the words of a ghost. 

[quote]He found freedom instead. 

On the tip of his tongue, he tasted life. In his hands, he clutched death. Another pair of blue eyes, another head of golden hair. Another ghost. But he was beyond grief. Beyond fear. Beyond rage. Beyond reason. 

He was free. 

He stalked the bleached halls until he was the only one left. Until thunder cracked and he lost his footing and he fell. 

He was falling. He was falling still.[/quote]

His new life is reduced to a number. They stoke his fire and torched him on a cold metal slab. The fire without, and the fire within. Just so they could find out which one burnt brighter.

[quote]There was pain. He turned it outward. 

The fire fitted him well. It lived in the meagre space of his chest, and it lived for the freedom he found. He bled hate and pain into its heat, so it would keep him warm.

He missed warmth. He couldn’t find it, so searing heat would do. That was alright. He had nothing left to lose, so he didn't care if they all burnt.

They might kill him. A part of him wished they would. The Stigma didn’t let him die, that selfish thing, but he wouldn’t let it hold him back. They were fickle and fearful; they flinched when he watched. 

He was waiting for another lapse. A breather, and he would seize it, like how he closed his jaws around that thrumming pulse. Petty retaliation for his pain, because he didn’t care. He was just so tired. 

But they didn’t kill him. Just cold room and blank walls. He counted faces to keep time, before. They took even that from him. 

It hurt, and he couldn’t take it. He just wanted everything to end.    

[/quote]

It came to an end. But not in the way he wanted. 

[quote]She walked into his life in a storm of rustling paper and clinking of heels on metal. He noticed her hair first: curled locks like spun gold and he thought of old ghosts that haunted his sleep still. 

But she was different. So vibrant. So wise. A certainty he didn’t even know he needed. A ray of light to brighten his bleak days. 

She told him the truth, of what he was and what he will become. What he could become. She promised him hope, and he ate it all up. He believed her. He tried to. 

He did everything they asked. Everything she asked. Yet her promise remained out of reach. But he kept at it, still. He wondered why, sometimes. Guilt for ghosts? 

Pointless and foolish. [i]When will you learn?[/i]

Because he knew what was behind her truth. She was artist; he her work. Nothing more and nothing less. And he couldn’t really blame her. Couldn’t really blame anyone but himself. 
[/quote]
His rage was ashen; he was holding onto ghosts. 

For how long now? How much longer?

[/hider]
[/hider]

[hider=Braver days and thoughts unmuted]
[h3][color 8493ca]Christmas[/color][/h3]
“[color=cyan]I'd kill for him. I'd die for him. And I think he would do the same for me.

I just don't understand why.

[/color]”
[h3][color a2d9ce]Callan[/color][/h3]
“[color=cyan]Callan is stronger than me. Probably braver than I can ever be. I envy her. 

But she just made the right choice, I guess.

I got what I deserve.[/color]”
[h3][color=00a99d]Ernie[/color][/h3]
“[color=cyan]Still an Aberration, but he wasn't as bad as I thought. He seemed to be more comfortable around me. Maybe that's for the best. 

What was it? Birds of a feather?[/color]”
[h3][color 33ec06]Marcus[/color][/h3]
“[color=cyan]I have only talked to him once, but he’s reasonable, I suppose.[/color]”
[h3][color 662d91]Kusari[/color][/h3]
"[color cyan]Kusari isn't an Aberration. Yet she's just like how I used to be...

I don't like her.[/color]"

[/hider]