Rockette

The Spirits Within

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When she had arrived amoung the usual troupe [time to spare it would seem] it was riddled with tension and words, she appeared at the cusp of Olivia's agitation and her shadow pulsed abroad with it. Thus started the nervous twinge that flared constantly in her arm, nerves impulsed, causing the tendons to tighten in flexing notions and her fingers to clench inward to scrape against her scar. Freddy's usual bluster hadn't appeared to assist in any manner, his own embarrassment chaffing her shadow and the brunt of unrequited affections hung there like an awkward sign flickering oddly in broadcast. She observed the particular trio with a sort of long forgotten anguish that had reared an ugly front in her heart, they reminded her so much of her brothers; loud, mischievous, kind and bold. Every critical detail was there and she almost approached them at that moment, to bask in memory, to not feel so alone. It was a harsh reality though, with blue eyes flickering over Thael, that his light would chase away at her shadows. He was aglow in the things, so trivial to some, that she desired: those affections, the warmth of something. Everything he had, she did not. It was almost pure jealousy that scalded her inside, festering with the pool of lava banked somewhere in her that coiled like a serpent, that made her shadows thrum with the heat just as her skin almost burned.

So she had looked away, favouring Remi, Emily, Olivia — anyone else aside from them.

Magdalena loved them, there wasn't a doubt within her soul, but there was something to be desired in their adult selves when compared to their youth now long forgotten and hampered by war. She had never been one of affectionate tendencies, the only comfort she could provide was brief touches of her delicate fingers, but even those were rare. Words even more so now as her consciousness seemed to consume her as her eyes fell onto the proffered platter of famous cuisine, though she doubted hot dogs could be so labeled. But she had thought the gesture characterized only of Roy and the obvious source of Olivia's irritation, that in its self made her cerulean gaze drop on the brunette in her luscious veneer that had been warped into irritation. Well then.

But as usual she had stood silently and held together, elegant, isolated, cast off more and more but still there. Her presence was small but noted in the constant whirl of her shadow that spun at her feet in the conflict of herself. Magdalena felt a flare of something, heat maybe, that came alive only when Thael spoke to her. It was different from her own fire, his was such a burning conflagration that it gleamed white and gold and something to really behold. Her eyes flickered only for a moment, squinting maybe that could have been defined as a narrowing gesture. But her voice had been anything but, her lips tipped into a smile, a little brittle on the edges and crinkling with appreciation — he still made that obvious effort to include her, to seek her out even if they couldn't touch. It was a loss, but, there was still something to gain with her friends.

"You know, I really did, thank you."

Her words were small. and a lie, but the wealth in their spoken cadence was more than that.

---

┊»ｔｈｅ ｃｅｒｅｍｏｎｙ●

The ceremony of course passed without a hitch or hiccup in the scheduled induction; Magdalena had stood before this council before [now affirmed with the head of BATW delegated to his settee] and this was no different in the way each individual conducted themselves in person venue. The only difference was her enrollment into a official unit rather than being inquired about the perplexities and complications of that which was officially named Chaos by these very personals, her eyes slid over each one in familiarity; her spine straight, her chin up — proud.

If there was anything to Magdalena's emotions, it was her effort and back-boning strength into her military pursuits. She had been willing, from the start, to induce herself into any branch that was available; be it utilizing her spirits into a machine, or scouring the world with a dark riddled agenda, to reach out with the inky tendrils of her pulsating shadows and pooling heat to bring everything to the forefront of this war. Whatever the circumstance, she would have done it. Standing here now with her friends was only a natural circumstance, in the end, and a blessing. Her blue eyes never strayed expect to glance at the broad glass in the background, to glance over the majestic architecture that was Oak Ridge, but her admiration was cut short when Cid stood before her. In the meeting of their glances she suddenly wondered what he thought: why she was here really, what convinced them that a wild card was required amoung this excursion. Was it an underlying plan hiding in the midst of ceremony, to access her in the field and wild rather than in the lab — to witness the beast illustrating in its natural habitual rituals. Her nervous twinge repeated, her fist clenched, and the keratin of her fingers cut hungry mouth of crescent smiles into her palms as the symbol of wolf and sword was before her then, her shadow bloomed wide around her and it was with a shadow warped hand that she finally accepted it.

The smooth, cold metal and material, suddenly felt like a stone in her hands.

---

┊» ｐｏｓｔ ｃｅｒｅｍｏｎｙ●

Magdalena wasted no time in branching away from her beloveds at the awkward behest of Olivia's words, she signaled off with a mock salute and a too saccharine sweet grin that was pinched at its edges as her shadow hesitated, lingering amoung them all and even touching some before whisking off after to its loyal position. She clenched the emblem harder as she made her destination towards her room, to prepare ultimately for this sudden mission. No time to be wasted obviously, WARG was more punctual that she had anticipated. Magdalena wasn't entirely confident on what made her putter in such haste, so much that her chakri chimed with every bouncing step as her departure was brisk and rushed. Running away. But I'm not, I wouldn't. I can't.

Her shadow was quite literally shaking when she returned to the sanctuary that was her literal solitary confinement, she clenched her blue eyes shut and when her lashes swept back her room was smothered in apparitions that waved and spun, shimmering in ebony hues that was beautiful and yet eerie in their slow rotations. She shuddered, sucked in a harsh breath and panted into the air that was awash into monotonous shades of grey and black and more black. She recognized this feeling for what it was, she felt it when Chaos had been unleashed, had felt it afterwards when they told her that she was presumed dead in the way her body had lain so cold on that too white floor.

She was afraid.

Of what, she couldn't discern among herself, perhaps to fail her friends, to hurt them, harm them in anyway. She wouldn't do so intentionally, but accidents happened, she knew that all too well in her younger days when scurrying with her brothers and friends, when someone had broken their arm, when someone had fallen and banged their head a little too hard. When she had squeezed and squeezed her Mother's hand and made it bleed with her nails. Magdalena sunk against the wooden frame, glancing around at the cleanliness of her domicile, everything so neat and tucked away and her phone now aligned with her new uniform so stark and pressed that it looked cumbersome. It took much more strength now than it had this morning to get up, move, to do something. She reflected back on the ceremony, to the head of BATW staring her down, to the announcement of their sudden Captain, of which Magdalena had not been surprised. She recalled Olivia practically dragging her from her room to attend their up most ritual during the summer or when the dark haired beauty had simply asked, 'How are you?' on random intervals during their academic pursuits. She was leadership material in having kept them together, but a small twinge in her arm made her wonder, was she enough to lead her friends, now her subordinates into battle? Her responsibilities would be not only just brief concerns on their emotional or mental states, but their very lives as well. Magdalena did not envy her in the slightest and the thought made her shudder when her fingers plucked the uniform from its arranged folding.

The material was so new and tailored to her very physique, it was effortless in sliding it on, it hugged to her form much like her previous assigned attire did. Unlike her usual obsidian wears, this did not drape or appear loose on her alignment, the sleeves however were perhaps a bit more customized for her chakri as were the leggings, and the lapels and darker blues gave her more of an appeal — as typical of her, Magdalena's uniform often suited her best. There were no sheaths for her weapons, after all how would one hide such obvious arsenal, but there was a designated area for her largest circlet across her spine and a belt draped over her thin waist was delegated for the much smaller one that was capable of being disassembled. She attached chakri to both of her wrists with the bloom of scarlet always there and even fastened a pair around the ankles of her boots, these that hugged to her calves with her britches tucked within and were laced tight. Gearing up for battle was normal, despite the trembling of her gestures, despite her inner conflicts. But with this new routine, something clicked inside her.

She was still shaking as she exited from her dorm, giving a silent farewell to this moment, but the quivers were now associated with not only fear but with anticipation. To hurt, to bleed, and to fight.

---

┊» ａｔ ｔｈｅ ｇａｔｅｓ ●

Cid had said twenty minutes though she hadn't of been exactly calculating the time. Her eyes drifted down to her phone numerous times, curious about the new additions and applications, as she scrolled through it mindlessly. Her mother had still not contacted her, of that she wasn't surprised, but there was a message or two from distant family on her father's side, claiming their pride in her induction into WARG and her graduation. Magdalena was surprised they had remembered her, after all, they had drifted apart upon his death and even more so when her mother burned everything. She sighed quietly to herself as she approached those who had assembled. It appeared that Kimberly was present, along with Kat and Emily, for the moment.

The Appleberry's though had taken her off guard with their warm presence, and looking at darling Sam only reminded her of her own childhood that had been without this love in the beginning of it. Magdalena's shadow vibrated in her nervousness when they addressed her, their smiles and laughter was so out there, so unlike her mother now — this was a family, a family that he had. And hers was dead. For the second time today, in no less than maybe an hour, she had been bridled with envy. Her fingers clenched against her scar for a brief moment before she hugged each of them in return, perhaps embracing a little too awkwardly though neither seemed to mind, and then a part of her wanted to hold on just a little bit longer. Magdalena hesitated on the little girl, she was unsure with children and the darkness that poured across her skin, she bit her lip as her shadow coiled tight before releasing in a long, jagged line across the ground when Samuela grabbed at her short, blonde threads now loose and free beneath her assigned barrette. Magdalena didn't hold her long, and when she passed the little girl on she quickly broke away, hugging herself, gripping tight on her uniform as she simply stared ahead.

Waiting; her shadows long and stretching out around her, a circumference of shadow that shielded her before she schooled her features back into the infamous apathetic and somber mask, her eyes heavy as the blue within them darkened. She was a ready as she could ever be, even if she warred with herself on the inside.

The Spirits Within

I don't think I've missed my deadline just yet but an emergncy at work required my immediate attention. On a Sunday of all days! So I'll be posting tonight when I'm home. c:

The Spirits Within

Oh the one I want to do with Mags and Emily would be later on. It's an idea I have that will be some ways off when we branch out. Circumstances provided we get the opportunity of course. d:

The Spirits Within

On the topic of spirit feedback: Magdalena's spirits would be naturally drawn and comfortable with those associated with anything of fire of darkness; example beings Aaron and Emily. Whilst her spirits would have the "weird feedback" if she came into contact with Thael or even Kat because of light and ice.

In generalization of "sensing", her spirits would deliver sensations of touch, her shadows heavy and smothering and almost humid in their sheer amounts, her fire similar but hot in pure heat. They'd be able to hear the "hounds" as Mag calls them, their sounds they make in response to her emotions. They'd feel her isolation and her empathetic shadow would probably cling and merge with their own. I suspect that it would vary from person to person and their own spirits, like Oz mentioned, sheer opposites would be much different whilst some she probably wouldn't feel anything strange.

Her shadow and the heat of her skin [Empathy and Dragon Touch] would be the most obvious in the sense of reactions and feedback.

The Spirits Within

Prisk said
@EveryoneI don't know what your methods are, but I usually plan my posts by writing small notes and ideas in my phone, or whatever, of things that I want to cover in a post—makes it easier and faster to write the damn thing when I get around to it!

I should probably do that!

Adorabadass said
Just to be adorable, Freddy's going to hug Mag and have Thael hug him from behind at the same time."Jesus fuck, hug me Thael! Because I love you both, I'll be your stupid fucking hug proxy."

Freddy-sandwich. how cute. dx

The Spirits Within

Hmm.
I actually really like that idea!
Good thinking. c:

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I'm sure we could collaborate something, Ex! I have an idea already for what it could be.
And on this subject: if anyone wants to work out something's with Mags, that'd be fantastic. Otherwise I'm going to let things just happen. dx

And Prisk, my original post was so much longer! I ended up scrapping most of it to save for later purposes. I'll be able to post in a couple days. c:

The Spirits Within

There was a reason that Magdalena Abendroth did not have roommates.

Primarily because new individuals made her nervous in the initial greetings: hello's and commentary on typical weather made her fidget in subtle hints of habitual consuetudes. And secondary because of the perpetual darkness that sluiced across her pores in visible momentum, it often forced others to take cautionary greetings and to be in simple distances of her. Rumours circulated that her shadows touched people, caressed them sometimes or spun around them in oddity circles as if to beget attention, and then attached themselves to other overcasts to create strange obscurities that were beyond the typical norm. Of course only a handful of individuals could testify to those fictions, associated students only saw the original shadow of herself that didn't change in density and remained as an inky pool of her heels. But there was a maintained dignity about her, refined within silence and further polished by her academic prowess. Considered studious and perhaps bookish in her apathetic veneer.

Though all of those appellations were now tossed out the window, literally.

But waking up alone in a varied haze was nothing new in the fall of routine, lashes peeled back over azure hues and her glances were glassed over with clear indication of the previous night. She didn't move just yet, laying upon her spine in the most uncomfortable position possible upon her dormitory floor; the thin carpeting of beige threads and her were well acquainted with Magdalena's penchant of fidgeting in her sleep, often from the victimizing of nightmarish hallucinations and entities that manifested in her waking world. The shadowy apparition now in front of her, blocking all sources of light, gaped a hellish maw and grinned like an infamous Cheshire at her before convulsing and spewing a obsidian tar that sunk and was absorbed by her skin — a demon coming home. Magdalena sighed carefully into the air, panting her slight frustration and fisting her delicate hands through her sallow tresses and counted out in German through her subconscious until all of her spirits were snug within and around her, no longer fixated to their will. Though she wasn't entirely sure if they actually lived, had thoughts and dreams and desires that reflected their mortal vessels, but it was an interesting enough thought as she slowly dis-tangled herself from a discarded heap of ebony cloth.

Her wardrobe has been erratically discarded from the night before in vain attempt to procure a decent article that didn't broadcast her hellacious soul and turmoil, of course the search was for nothing as an ebony layered skirt and a slinky camisole of the same hue had been her only convivial attire. Of course now aforementioned outfit was wrinkled and smelled of booze that made her nose crinkle and immediately shed the offending stench before it clung to her pores. There was a familiar twinge across her arms and legs that told of physical strain, her hands brushed over muscles to work out the kinks that hadn't been stretched out properly, hearing a pop in her shoulder that made her wince in satisfaction at the pressure. Magdalena gathered her clothing into a dark mass before dumping the contents into a bin designated for their departure before making her own leave to the lavatory with its door askew. Flipping on the switch revealed a rather surprising sight of a shattered mirror and her toiletries haphazardly strewn about on the linoleum. She groaned inwardly.

There was also a reason Magdalena Abendroth didn't drink.

It wasn't a low tolerance towards alcohol, but rather her aptitude for it. It seemed no matter how many bottles she downed, an impressive feat given her size, and the amount of tumblers turned over in front of her, she didn't stumble, falter or slur her appointed speech. As long as she didn't stand up. However it only took one singular event to spur the complete unleashing of a rampaging, table flipping woman of Germanic phrases and swears that made the most lewd and provocative blush scarlet to their roots. The unfortunate receiver of such rampegeous vocalizations had been the primary target of thrown furniture and miscellaneous paraphernalia of common dorm facilities and their lounges, the windows however received full force of her impressive throws and slinging lamps across far metrics. Her formidable exercises did not go to waste in this dark hour of inebriated festivities. She wasn't entirely sure who, one her much bigger, stronger companions no doubt, that had swooped her up and promptly ended her sudden assaults and locked her within a wall of flesh.

Magdalena felt her cheeks heat at the hazed memory, the fact that she had lost control after being known for her indifferent mask to the public was a mockery and she was sure, by now, everyone was aware that a raging drunkard lived within Magdalena. Oh how Freddy would be proud.

"Fuck me," she groaned, merely toeing her objects aside before she bent at the waist to retrieve what remained of her brush. Grooming was usually a comforting process, and the lack of a hangover was a blessing, but her sheer embarrassment illustrated her movements as rushed and self-directed as she tore the bristles through wheat-blonde threads. She couldn't believe it, of all nights and moments to lose herself, and this time is wasn't at the painful summoning of the thing inside her. Magdalena used what remained of her shattered mirror to glare at her reflection of blue and blue. She wasn't entirely positive on the time either which made her fumbling mortification more pronounced as she stumbled back into her room and reclined to all fours to search out for her phone. She only hoped that with this being post-Graduation-drunken-ceremony that everyone would still be swept into a party fervor and simply forget. Magdalena dug under her clothing, searched through her sheets, and found the device lodged between the wall and mattress.

Her fingers tapped idly against the back, thumbs hesitating as the screen indicated blank activity - no one had called her, no messages or indications of a congratulatory image. Just nothing.

"Figures," she breathed and tossed the mobile away back onto her mattress, her eyes darkening and her shadow expanding into a pool that slid and formed over her thin carpeting. Alone in her room, embarrassed, perhaps a little angry, her spirits hummed and droned in a ominous howl that crested into a soft cry of a wounded hound. It really shouldn't have bothered her, but in this circumstance it did, for when she lost her father and brothers it seemed that she lost her mother as well. The elder Abendroth had secluded herself to her home, living off of the credits supplied to her father's widow and the supplied sub-credits from her brothers' demise; since neither of them had wills or heirs, everything was proffered to the mother to shelter and shoulder with what strength she had left. Magdalena was grateful enough to keepsake their photos and memories, all mortal possessions had been burned during her mother's last fit of anguish when she just wanted to forget, and that was the last phone call she had ever received from that woman. It didn't bother her so much now that she had other objectives and goals to pursue in her Academic career, but moments of clarity were harsh in reflection when she bothered to compare herself against others in startling contrasts.

But now isn't the time, she thought, peeling off her negligee with delicacy as she puttered on back to her decimated shower. Now she had options, choices, things to accomplish and decisions to be theorized upon if she wanted to continue to prove herself. Magdalena contemplated under the hot spray, water in its cleansing properties sliding across her skin in familiar sensations. She tipped her face into the torrent, lifted her hands as if in penance to peel away the film of last nights' occurrences and the neglect of her mother's sorrow, to once again shelter the woe in her heart and allow her spirits to absorb such extremities. When she finally opened her eyes, darkness met them and she allowed it to be, because at least in the dark she was blind, and sometimes not seeing was better than witnessing the ugliness of her actual world.

---

It didn't take her long to properly access herself, she had done this nearly everyday since she came here, but now today was met with a new sense of excitement though it was subdued in her eyes as usual, her shadow however vibrated with the intensity of her withheld emotion. Now garnered in black that hung off her shoulders and her short locks pulled back lazily in a clip centred on her scalp, Magdalena could only hope that she wouldn't be signaled out or recognized by her rather impressive performance under that alcoholic haze. She sighed around the heaviness of her tongue as she shucked on boots and laced them tight to her ankles before daring the excavation from her dorm's security. The door creaked under the poor pressure of once-upon-a-time busted hinges and she swiftly locked it with a flick of her wrist that chimed with the familiarity of chakri that she donned with her thick, signature scarlet band. She pondered on where her friends were, having disbanded from the group as the night partied on until its peak of absolution and fulfillment, each of them seemed to gravitate to their own wants and agenda laid out for the evening and Magdalena had been no different. While remaining with them was natural and normal as the rising sun now blinding her cerulean oculus, she knew that each was unique in their individuality and that sometimes one had to embark from their closest friends in order to truly find themselves.

She figured that was how it had to be now, her eyes deciding to contemplate her ebony laces, graduation had come and gone. She had been offered, or rather it had been heavily suggested she invest towards the biological and technological weapon infrastructure now receiving lead way into development so as to combat the Xenomorph more effectively. These individuals wanted to utilize Guardians are pure weaponized units of harsh military, to not only train them in their usual exercises for The Cause, but to harness the most destructive means of their spirits into an actual mechanized machine. Magdalena wasn't entirely confident about the potential they advertised, after all she had been under their mercy once before when demonstrating Chaos for the first, and she hoped last, time. Her eyes flickered towards her palm, the scar that was a reminder constantly for when she impaled herself at their behest, she could have it removed completely and healed by her Light wielding companion, or her own natural healing abilities. But she had been adamant that it remain there, for her own masochistic means perhaps, though Magdalena had never given an out spoken reason for it.

She clenched her fingers until her knuckles bloomed white and she picked up her pace down the board walk, admiring the decorum of her school and the impressive oak tree where students were gathered around, nursing their own hang overs. Magdalena offered them mock salutes as she passed, her trajectory and mission was to gather some much needed food and avoid being seen before she committed herself entirely to the experimentation that was laid out before her. She wondered if maybe she should have discussed it with her friends, to gain advice from them; all of their harsh honesty's and opinions, their wills to speak out for themselves that she sometimes envied. She sighed quietly to herself and rubbed her fingers across the nape of her neck where some of her most tension gathered when she thought too much, over thinking about it wouldn't do her any good. So she attempted to banish the thoughts until a firm hand clapped over her thin shoulder.

"What in the hell —" she sputtered, spinning on her heel and facing her — oh.

The boy in front of her held up his hands in defense, his grin sheepish, embarrassed, perhaps a little devious in the way his shoulders bunched too.
"Look before you punch me, again, I just wanted to apologize. I had no idea you were so," he struggled for the word. "Violent." He shoved his hands through his brunette locks and whistled out a sigh, awkward in his stance. "I just thought, well, you were all over me—"

"I was not, I tripped. The fact that your lap was... there, is entirely irrelevant."
"That's not how I remembered it, err."

She folded her arms around her middle in agitation, her shadow pooling around her before shrinking and clamouring over her body, as if to embrace her as well. The male individual's eyes widened at witnessing it and his sneaker clad foot took a step back when he saw she didn't cast a normal shadow.

"What?" Her voice was neutral, monotone, her eyes darkened onto his visage when he continued to gape at the ground beneath her feet.
"Nothing, I just, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to grab you, like that. I didn't know..." His baritone faded out with the sharp summoning of the PA system, both of their eyes casting up as if to see the person whose voice was blaring through the speakers. Each name called out made her skin tingle, nerves firing in excitement until they flared out completely when her name was also tacked on to the list. Oh this was purely a blessing to save her from this awkward moment.

"Look, if you ever want to, you know?"

Her response was a solitary punch to his shoulder, spinning him out of the way as she promptly made headway towards the administration office, almost breaking into a jog as she sought to separate herself from the reminder of her embarrassment. But last night seemed far away and didn't matter, she had contemplated SWARG before they head of BATW sought her out once again, so to now be summoned for it and to be united with those she cherished most was another moment to savoir in their lives together. A small smile graced her features and her shadow spun in a wide circle before settling once again at her heels, a constant companion as always.

"I know," she spoke to it, reaching out her arm as it coiled across her hand and shoulder. "I'm happy it turned out this way as well."

The Spirits Within

I'll be posting today finally, no matter what, just some things came up yesterday that I needed to take care of. Just typical distractions!

The Spirits Within

I'll post by morning, which it technically is, but I'm exhausted from work and pulling an all-nighter of other work.
See you in a couple hours after I sleep.