Deathmyster

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Grant cast his gaze up to the flying Metalworks that focused in on another entity, which turned out to be a dragon. That’s them out of the way, hopefully. Just as he began to ready another chunk of earth to deal with more of the grounded Metalworks, at the corner of his eye, he saw it.

That was a laser.

Indeed, a laser was just shot out from the Metalwork snake, piercing the helicopter that held the Striker team. Immediately after the attack of the laser, the helicopter fell. And fell. Metal on earth clashing together in the near distance. ”Holy shit.” Grant let out after his brief moment of speechlessness. His hand moved toward his phone but Angel’s voice stopped him. A glance toward her, and he remembered that they all were still in the midst of danger. Metalworks were already up and running toward his team, and he couldn’t let this distract him.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his nerves before focusing back on the battlefield, missing the confirmation of Striker team’s safety. Screams and thuds against the ground rang across the battlefield, though the screams were easy to explain where from. Grant took a few steps to steady himself before scooping another pile of earth from the ground next to him.

His teammates were already attempting dispatch on a few of the charging Metalworks, so logically, he’d go for the Metalworks that were uninjured. Taking a few moments to mold his projectile, spreading it in hopes of it hitting more enemies, Grant focused. Deep breaths, deep breaths. His eyes narrowed before he reeled the projectile back and let loose another chunk toward the enemy.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Rain and thunder. Grant was never too good with this kind of weather. Always interrupted his favorite pastime, sleep. So he laid awake, staring up at the bottom of the top bunk as the rain tapped tapped away at the window, never ceasing its endless downpour. Was it raining that night? That night when his life had changed to the way it was now? Wouldn’t that be funny. Rain and thunder to go with the feeling of utter...

There was a harsh knocking at the door that snapped him out of his thoughts, and his head rolled for his vision to meet with the door. Knock knock knock. He sighed. If he couldn’t sleep, at least there was something to keep him preoccupied, so he pulled himself together to greet the, most likely, soldier waiting at his door.

Sure enough, a ‘generous’ guard was waiting for him, offering an umbrella to the tired boy. How kind. He took the already wet umbrella and stuffed a hand down his pocket. He could only guess where this guard was going to lead him. “...Well go ahead and lead on.” He mumbled and with that, the guard began his escort. He stepped out, looking back to steal a final glance at the knife that laid on the table before he closed the door, following the view of the back of the guard.

---

Grant sat back in his seat as the briefing went by, listening to the key information he had to know.

His team, the plan, the time, and the enemy. He barely recognized many of the names on his team, one being completely unknown to him, but the biggest thing of the briefing that stuck out to him was their current target. A subnatural. His kind. A human. A homo-sapien. Call it whatever, it was still what he currently was at this existing moment. And now his mission was to kill that very thing. He wondered what he would feel at the very moment this was done. Guilt? Shame? Anything at all? He knew it wouldn’t matter for so long. He had to do this.

He had to survive. Whatever it took. If it meant taking another life. If it meant anything. He couldn’t just let his life end. Alone, he resolved himself. Alone, he ate his meal. Alone, he made a trip back to his dorm. Almost forgot the knife.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Not even too long after the match had started between the two teams on screen, Grant had slumped back against his chair, asleep with the only sound coming from him being calm, light snores. Luckily for him, he wouldn’t be awake to watch the events of the match unfold live. The absolute carnage and merciless fight between the two groups of classmates. It had to be some kind of miracle that Grant hadn’t been woken up for most of the fight, and only when it was mostly over did consciousness finally return to him.

With a small groan escaping his mouth, Grant’s eyes blinked open to the sight of the replays playing over and over on the screens. He blinked and blinked while his mind continued to chug along from the lingering sleepiness. He only saw the leftovers of what was the brutalities that had occurred amongst his fellow Subnaturals. He felt... he didn’t know what he felt. Sickened? Shocked? He had just woken up and was greeted with the reality of his classmates. And even his new roommate. Even then, only tiredness graced his face. He looked down at the blank evaluation sheet that laid in front of him. Right. He still had to write.

A yawn left him after a few moments of staring at the paper before he picked up the pencil loosely in his hand and brought it down, pressing the tip to the sheet lazily.

General Thoughts:

Fell asleep. Seemed violent. Really violent. Not really a good thing when up against each other. Seemed unnecessary against each other. Up against monsters, maybe justified, but these are our own classmates.

Suggested Improvements:

Try not to kill each other next time when it’s just a game.

Considering all that Grant saw was the violence after, he couldn’t really give any good advice about how to do better. Not like he would have much advice in the first place. Another yawn left before a chain emerged from behind him and made contact with the paper and he let his chain bring the paper over to Frederic for him as he just slumped back against his seat, dropping the pencil back where it was, letting it roll for a bit.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Oh. They won. That was surprisingly easy. Was easy the right word? It was fast either way. Grant looked around at the soldiers who came into the field, one group of which taking Siena from his arms, and he returned his hands into his pockets. Looking around now, it seems as if Grant was spared from the injuries that might have befallen him, but his teammates weren’t given the same treatment as him. Color him lucky. Or just smart. Soldier surrounded him, but they already seemed to know he posed no real threat to them. He just let himself be led to the outpost.

In the safety of the outpost, away from the eventual battle between teams 3 and 4, Grant watched as everyone was healed from their injuries, with the help of another Subnatural. The healer of the other team, to be exact. His eyes flickered toward the screens, showing key moments that had occurred within the battle. He moved to take a random seat at the desks as Fredric explained what they were to do. Grant let out a long yawn. Looks like he still had to stay awake to watch this match. Or not. Either way, he sat back in his seat and watched the screens with tired eyes, ready to shut at any moment.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Knock knock.

What was the time? Eh, Grant just slept as usual, so it didn’t really matter. He turned back on his side and tried to ignore the disturbance.

Knock knock knock.

God, who was out there? Maybe they’ll go away if he just ignored them. Sounds like a plan. He didn’t want to deal with anyone this early... Or... late. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t open his eyes enough to actually see the time of day.

KNOCK KNOCK KNO- Grant groaned in annoyance, moving onto his back and sitting up.. “Alright, alright!” He’d say loudly in his annoyance, getting up from his bed. Days spent sleeping... to be interrupted by this? He picked the mess that was himself up, and he wiped off the drool off his mouth as he swung open the door. A guard stood there, appearing ready to just burst into his room at any second now if necessary. He seemed to look Grant up and down before shaking their head, gesturing with their gun.
“Get out here already.” He’d command, and Grant had no choice but to agree. The place that he was lead to, alongside a group of students whose faces were familiar, and others extremely familiar, was a lecture building. Great. He filed into the classroom, deciding to let everyone else pick their seats... and after that was done, he took the seat which was mostly on its lonesome. Announcements, a great thing to be woken up for. Thanks, anonymous guard. Grant spent his time sitting, between the realms of sleep and awakeness as he laid his cheek against his fist. Bursts of information from the teachers came through, a schedule, something about presents that were handed out. He saw a couple things, and obviously none of them were heading his way. He never filled the form out, nor did he sign the requisition sheet.

After everything was said and done, the teacher that was left was the seemingly shy math teacher. Classes. Great. Grant let out a yawn and let the classes pass on by him, and at the end of it all, he blinked his eyes open enough at the sound of a snap. Lunch had just arrived. Finally. His head felt like it was just going to fall over any second now, but the day was still not done. So in the meantime, Grant decided to just get something to eat, maybe sleep a bit. Maybe a lot. Either way, his course was set toward the cafeteria and for once, not to a bed.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Grant’s eyes snapped up as the explosion went off. Panic, worry, and fear were dulled from the exhaustion that he felt. The nausea had finally left, but that tiredness was not leaving so easily. His eyes widened just a bit when he saw the crystal come down into the trench with him, his hand only tightening more around the hilt of the knife. Surprise filled his mind as he found himself within a sphere. He looked around, finally standing straight... at least he thought he was. The sphere lifted him up, into the air, out of the trench that he had made in the thick of battle. In the air. He pressed his free hand against the sphere as he looked on at the battlefield. Had they won? Was this victory?

His eyes caught the sight of the monsters that had been left on the field be trapped within a similar sphere as he and the remaining others were in. No- not just the remaining students... he even saw multiple bodies, spheres carrying them. Did that mean- no. Don’t think about it, Focus. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, missing the sight of the remaining monsters being obliterated in their respective spheres. All he knew was that, somehow. Within a miracle, luck, or whatever god up there’s blessing, he was still alive. He survived. That’s what he wanted, his ultimate goal. So why? Why, as his feet touched down on the battlefield of this cruel assessment... Why did he feel empty? No satisfaction, no light-heartedness. Just nothing. He scanned around him, for some kind of answer. His classmates, his teammates, alive and-

Padma. He looked at his former roommate’s body on the ground, in the near distance, where it had landed. Nothing prepared him for her death. It was so quick. His feet began to carry him, onwards toward her body, paying no attention to his comrades that accompanied him in battle. Not letting go of that knife.

OOC

Continued in Blue Team Collab.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Pound after pound, Grant stared at the practically nonexistent corpse of the baby squirrel that was in the now ditch in front of him. He didn’t care, he didn’t want to see the damn thing again. Just a splash of red. Red. Red. Die, die, die, die, die...

"Grant? Grant, it's dead! We should h-help the others."

Grant snapped back to reality. The ensuing battle around him coming back to him. He looked around, his chains retracting from the club shaped earth and it fell into the ditch that once laid a corpse of a dead squirrel, now buried in rubble. Confusion shot through his mind. What was he doing? There wasn’t any time for this. He turned his head to see Siena running away for cover. Right. If he was going to get through this, he needed to ensure that his team... the rest of his team survived this. For... his own survival. But first, he stepped toward... her body. He didn’t look. He didn’t want to. He knew that if he did... no, he didn’t look. For his mental state’s sake. He noticed the knife that had clattered to the floor, moment before her demise. He didn’t even give a thought to the pillar of light. It just seemed important to pick it up, but his attention was drawn away from the knife in his hand.

Gunshots. Or more accurately, a gunshot. If he remembered right, one of his team mates had retrieved a gun, and said team mate was shooting at running fish. His eyes lead from the fish that had been shot, the fish still up, to the armored man, who was just getting out of his earthen prison, roaring. That was a problem. ”Okay… just gotta throw another..” He mumbled to himself, lowering his chains to the earth, but his plans soon changed after he saw the remaining fishman begin running at his two other team mates, seeming to... fire at them? As strange and weird it was, it was happening, and he was closing in on them. ”Gotta help them.. But I need to keep the armored man down…” He muttered to himself, conflicted. He knew he needed to act fast. He glanced around in a panicked manner, before he noticed the somewhat perfect square hole in the ground from the earth that he had initially thrown from before. Something clicked in his mind, as if someone slapped him and told him off for being so stupid.

He took action, beginning to rush toward the two who were being shot at. He felt sluggish, but he wasn’t collapsing. Must be the adrenaline pumping through his body. Once he was close enough to them, not right next to them, but close enough for them to at least hear him, he called out to them. ”Hey! Over here!” He shot his chains down into the earth. He focused. He took a deep breath in and pulled a large amount of the earth from the ground, leaving a large, rectangular shape in the ground. His feet felt unsteady, and his heart was pounding. Nevertheless, he managed to chuck the rubble in the direction of the large, armored man that was just recovering. After he let go, he let out that breath. He felt lightheaded... and his feet were right next to the edge of the trench he had just made. In his daze, his foot slipped and he ended up falling into the ditch with a thud, for better or worse. He laid against his back in the trench, the breath taken out of him as he breathed heavily. A thought crossed his mind. This... Sucks…

Interaction Tags

@Chasers115 and @Kyrisse: A trench has been made for ya. An out of shape skinny, lazy boy awaits in there, exhausted on the floor.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Grant flinched. The only response that came from him as he watched the squirrel’s head and skull caved in at the moment of impact from his club. Just a flinch. He paid no heed to the remaining squirrel as it backed away, and he just continued to step to the body of the obviously dead squirrel. Each step was heavy. With effort. His heavy breaths shook, seeming to rattle his lungs as they did. He looked on at the dead squirrel with empty eyes. His club raised, unaware of anything else around him, not even the squirrel that squealed nearby. He raised his club, and...

A feeling. Some... kind of feeling. An unexplainable feeling. As if.. He had no words for it. Or as if.. there just weren’t any words at all for it. Everything. Yet nothing. Flowing on and on without stop. No. Not just everything. Maybe even something beyond everything. Further. Further from him. Something he couldn’t dare to reach. Yet it reached him. A small piece. A small piece for him. A small piece... of that thing beyond everything. For him... for him. He reached out and grabbed it, knowing, that piece was made just for him. He felt that piece become one with who he was.

Even without him knowing... out of his back, a second chain sprung out, and it shot straight to the club above him, making contact with it. That heavy weight lightened up, and his legs had an easier time holding him up. He stood straighter than before, yet his hands still shook. He felt pain in his palms as his nails proceeded to dig their way deeper into them. He stared down at the still body of the squirrel, and brought the club down. An impact followed. Grant raised it once more, watching the blood almost stick to his earthen club. He brought it down again. Then again. And again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. The earth receded more and more with each impact. Flattening the squirrel more and more against the ground. Pulverizing the son of a bitch until it became no more. He refused to stop. Grant didn’t flinch.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

Grant watched as the grand man that wore armor was hit with his attack. Well.. more like, blocked, but even so, after the deformed man had blocked, he came towering down and was pinned to the ground by the rubble. A feeling of relief spread through his mind, though he did not bother emoting it, as he put his focus on trying to prepare himself for the next rock. It all seemed to be going pretty well. But he underestimated one thing. He massively underestimated how fast the squirrels had closed in on him and the others. He let out a swear, “Shit!..” before stumbling back as he saw a squirrel bounding toward him. He shut his eyes tightly as he fell back, literally onto his ass... But no harm came to him. Instead something different came.

A scream. A shout. A yell. Whatever you would call it. He knew whose voice that scream belonged to. “Pad...” He opened his eyes, watching her knife clatter to the ground, and he looked up at the bearer of the knife, whose blood flew. Her screams. Grant watched with wide eyes as Padma dropped to the ground in front of him, his mouth agape with shock. Just as suddenly it had started, her screams ceased, but the squirrels that maimed her blood-spewing body continued. His mouth was open, but there were no words. No sound. Silently, he got up from the ground. He stepped closer to the squirrels, no thoughts. No definite plan. He didn’t even notice the strange black thread that tied itself around one of the squirrel’s wrists. He just walked until those damn squirrels were in range.

Once they were, he pulled the earth at his side out from below with a touch of his chain, and after it slid out from the earth, it steadily formed into a kind of weapon. A club. He could feel his nails digging into his palm from how hard he was clenching his fists. Not only that, his body lowered a bit, feeling that same exact heavy feeling against him... His breaths turned heavy, as if he were panting. He struggled to keep his footing, and yet, he reeled his chain back and swung the club quickly, low and horizontally, at the squirrels.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

/Grant Rotem\

After Padma left, he was thinking about doing the exams. Just get up, sit down, and do them... Theeeen again, he also thought of just sleeping. And once that thought entered his mind, that’s exactly what he did, quickly drifting asleep. Wonderfully sound asleep, Grant laid, no bother in his mind, no bother around him. Just the peaceful rest as he laid in bed. He dreamed of... nothing. Just darkness. A peaceful dark sleep with nothing to- alarms. Sirens, blaring alarms. That was what he heard when he was blasted out of his sleep from the very thing. Grant had been asleep for hours, and to add to his rude awakening, not only was he awakened by the loud alarms, he also ended up on the floor with a thud. At that, he opened his eyes in shock, staring up at the ceiling of his dorm. He laid, dazed and confused on the floor, tangled up in his blanket. If that didn’t pull him from his sleepy state, the voice that spoke out from his cuff did. He only began focusing on what it was saying when it explained about the Threat level of... something. He wasn’t sure. The fact that he was JUST awakened by this wasn’t helping either.

The cuff went silent, leaving Grant some time to regain his bearings. He unravelled himself from the blanket wrapped around him, tossing it back up onto the bed, which he used to pull himself up. He stumbled, trying to regain his balance.
”The hell’s going on?” He’d mutter out, moving a hair out of his eyes lazily, not bothering with his bedhead, since by the time he did, his ankle cuff sounded once more. It first stated how the hostile target was unknown, yet the next second, it said how the target was Menagerie. ”Make up your mind...” He’d say out loud, wiping some drool that was trailing from his mouth. He yawned, trudging to the bathroom, wondering who were the unlucky saps who had to deal with the threat approaching. He turned the sink on, the water running, yet it was drowned out by the sound of the alarms blaring. As he began to splash water into his face, he once again heard a voice come from the cuff. The only thing was, it was Director Zhang’s voice instead of the mechanical voice from before. He raised an eyebrow on his dripping face as he listened to her announcement, though only parts of it stuck out to him. What he bothered to acknowledge from her announcement was that this was the combat assessment for the new students, as well as catching word of what color team he was on. Blue. There was only one name out of the 6 that he recognized aside from his own. Padma, his roommate.

He turned the sink off, using his white shirt to dry his face, leaving an obvious wet stain on it. He grumbled out as he remembered the words said by his roommate.
”’In a few days’ she says… Damn it…” When he lowered his shirt from his face, he noticed the color of the light on his cuff, which he let out an unamused chuckle at. ”Cute…” Came out of his mouth in a sarcastic tone. Nothing in this situation was remotely cute. He dragged himself to his bed, sitting down on its edge, waiting. He knew almost nothing could prepare him for what was coming up. Flung into combat on his first day here. This was too much, but it's not like he had much of a choice either way. After minutes of Grant sitting, looking down at his unprepared self, a guard came, bursting through the door.
”Out. You’re coming with me.” They’d declare, forcefully, almost a yell or shout. Grant just sighed, standing up from his bed.
”Yeah, yeah… just lead the way.” Was what he said before he walked up to them. There was no point in making a fuss of trying to resist going, so he just went along with it. The guard grabbed him by the arm, pulling him out of his room before pushing him ahead, pointing their gun at his back. Grant held the arm that the guard grabbed for a moment before looking ahead, beginning to step in the direction they wanted him to go. His steps were tired and sluggish, yet pokes at his back from the guard’s gun kept his steps from getting any slower than they already were. Eventually, at this pace, he made it to the trucks that all the teams were riding in. The guard grabbed his arm again, obviously annoyed by how slow he had been going for the whole walk, and pulled him over to his team's truck, shoving him into it.