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. r o c k e t t e .
i fear i've been laying with the devil
hold me down under holy water
[ ♕ ]
. to my biggest fan; my l o v e and a d o r a t i o n .
. A L T E R E D T U N D R A .

graphic artist digital & traditional artist passionate gamer novelist writer.

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he's fugly

I snorted.

Poor Abaddy baby.
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. . ʙ. .. .. .. .. .ɴ

- -

Few luxuries are afforded to the writhing existence of a malformed conception, the embellishments of living, breathing, and mindlessly just existing were null and void; smothered betwixt fear. It's the same process through his mind, always in a whorl, for his body may have been medicated, but his mind was not. This was repetition, as it always was.

He finds himself bound, even in complacency, and surrenders with palms thrust open and up, body lax and head bowed with wreaths of black pooling over thinly composed shoulders the moment the alarm comes blaring through. There's little ceremony and minute qualities of preparation, after all, the domicile with an eight scrawled over it's unit, is compressed in size and finance even for such a gargantuan figurine. He inhales, whistling through a cluster of flesh ringed teeth, and awaits his maker.

Abaddon - K a c e y - [he isn't sure what to call himself, as an identity crisis is afforded to his lack of personal moniker] is seldom bequeathed to individualized affairs. His designated chambers are a minute relief, given only a small nook to collect and bind his senses that comes from every test and medical appliance; routine sedation, biopsies of his eternally blemished limbs, and the venom from his barbed tongue collected in the mannerisms one would extract from a temperamental viper. He remembers, for a moment, the last time they had exhibited the rather barbaric means, and tenses within the memorial the minute his doors are risen wide.

Black eyes flicker up, through a fringe of lashes glancing against critical brows. This isn't a routine release from confinement, no tests have been scheduled, there's nothing within his daily debriefing through voice module exchanges that have fore told this immediate and rather brash awakening.

"Stand, slowly. Back facing me."

They'd rather not see his face, he knows.

Such precautions though are often unneeded for one such as he, he's never fought nor complained, he's queerly adamant and forthcoming, despite his numerical ranking, and such gives way to suspicion considering his hostile classification. The guards mutter among themselves that it's his face and rather rapt appetite, the way he's consumed corpses of Hydra to secure his body whole, the crack of his bones under every assault to solidify his calcification process. And never once does he make a sound.

"To the Auditorium, they sent out a message to all cells. Your current board has been disabled to ensure your compliance. We gotta' lead you by cable though. They're having all Children present."

Cable, huh.

A rather simplified name translated to a glorified leash, one that connected to his collar by the latch maintained at his nape where his sedatives and volatile injections were often supplied, his cable thus corded swiftly over his wrists and forearms. Not tight nor uncomfortable, just a simple precaution to new exposure, Kacey had, after all, never been privy to co-mingling with the lesser Children. His socializing allowance barely afforded times with those classified above him even, and that was best left alone.

He didn't know his way to the aforementioned Auditorium, much to his silence, thus he was led by a lax guard now that he was secured properly and directed through brief nudges and swift commands, usually by the pressure of a rather lethal machine.


There was a tingling plethora of scents beyond the doors, his tongue immediately slithering through the gaps in his teeth, coaxed from his lips and oozing black to gather the imprints of the air here and yonder. There, he thought, some he knew, some he had encountered, but the new breadths of smell were responsible for his sudden eagerness, to think that many more existed far from his knowledge led testimony to exactly how small his world really was.

"I have to keep you on cable since your sedative won't be ready until curfew hours. I'll come back for your routine medications."

Kacey inhaled, nodding only just to ensure his understanding, he didn't blame them, never did. He knew that within he must continue his patience, and he'd rather play the willing subject in this eternal match up of figured chess. Such as they are, he mused.

There were already plenty of Children and his eyes bore and relished with the sheer numbers, not to mention their magnitude and vast impressions of varied.. p r o w e s s. Kacey slowly made himself known, standing to his full height, his footfalls deliberate, swift, coming down to where he knows only few. His arms were bound by his nape, provided by the cable issued, and his muscles purposely lax to the cursory glance over. His state of dress was minuscule by an ebony clothed tank over his front and trousers shoved into specially leather crafted boots that were a customized reception, only because they gave some comfort to the pain within his stance. Kacey paused, carefully, exhaling through a whisper; issuing a courteous greeting none the less as he stepped down towards the heavily populated front row.

"Good morning."

My post for Abaddon will be coming tomorrow at the earliest; I'll be available later tonight to dabble in some ideas and such for developments later on. Till then!
Christ, you folks are busy bees.
Last night I drafted #8, unfortunately I'm here at work till close, but there's a lull in today's games to briefly check in and provide an update.

It's all worth the wait, I guarantee that.
Just got off from work, I'll compose a brief character skeleton when I'm home and relaxed.
@Bishop - cores..?

If you're referring to a former project of mine, then yes.

So, it's rapidly difficult to pass up the chance to dally in some mutations, horrors and potential experimentation. The ideas are staggering.
I'll rapidly claim #8, unless the aforementioned poster [i.e above me who asked about open spots] desires such, otherwise, I'll suffice with another ranking, #10, or #13 - mostly for shits 'n giggles because we're coming upon October - but heyy, it'll work.

honestly though, 10 sounds nice.

I'll be lurking about, hashing some ideas and all.
hey guys.
I'm coping with some recent tragedies.

Harvey hit us hard, but Irma followed right after and hit people on the eastern coast where family of mine lives. Well, lived. Last I checked, there are more hurricanes brewing out into the Atlantic, so we'll see.
Anyways, having lost everything, it's been difficult to cope for them. As you can imagine.
on top of such, we lost someone, stubbornness to evacuate combined with old age, it just happened.

so I'm in and out, I've contacted Prisk, but I know she's away for work, the beginning and all that and settling, I'm uncertain of what she'll plan, but we'll keep you guys updated.

thanks for all the support.

much love,
Rockette. ♥
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