OTA

[captaine_sykes]

Where most others in camp who had inhaled the drugs pumped through the ventialtion system last night were having a less extreme reaction to the chemical compound Ethan was struggling. You see the thing is he's a man who is excellent at keeping his emotions in check and putting on that cool, calm facade to everyone else and then going to the gym and

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[mad_asahatter]

She'd been sleeping. Quite peacefully too. For some reason, things were smoothing out nicely in her mind right then, it was like a power boost only without the aggravation of too many emotions. It was almost lovely to have the order coming back to her chaotic little mind, she tended not to question these things.

But then there had been a sort of slow trickle of something disturbing; something off balance, something different than usual, something that made her eyeballs itch. She wasn't the fastest person waking up, because of the numerous emotional signatures that came to her as consciousness ebbed forward.

Then the earth shook. Only it wasn't the earth because everything else stood still. Just her; she was shaking, she was vibrating with nature and--

Was that a man below her?

Ophelia clung to a branch as the rocking continued, breaking off part of the tree to throw down, "Avast yon hulking mass of brute, it's not the tree that bears the fruit!" Apparently, over the noise of the tree breaking, the man didn't hear her and Ophelia felt the snap of the tree as her weight toppled over.

It was just as well she was used to falling out of trees really.

[captaine_sykes]

It's the snap of the branch that breaks Ethan's self-imposed mantra of hitpunchpummelsmash and he only gets a moment to glance up before he ends up with his arms full of Mayspring. Ethan staggers back as the tree creaks in response to his attack and slowly tips to one side; all the time Ethan still has Ophelia held in his arms like a bride over the threshold.

The tree, finally felled, lays on the ground whilst Ethan and Mayspring are surrounded by fallen leaves, twigs and other foliage. "What the hell were you doing in that tree!?"

Ethan berates Mayspring as he sets her down on her feet and pats his hands down across her body to check for injury. He might be on the verge of fuming but he still can't help his military ingrained response to check that she is alright and uninjured.

[mad_asahatter]

She's not sure if she's being frisked or not, but she stands there and stares. This is Ethan Sykes, her brain supplies, this is the military leader of the camp. This is a rather complex man who's jumbled mind just knocked her awake. This man just killed her tree.

"One has the right, you see, to wonder, just why you'd wake her from her slumber. It's plain to see, for those who're me, that something is not as it should really be." And she wasn't having some strange insight into the state of his mind; no. She was meaning her tree. On its side. In pieces.

Ophelia was miffed. And a miffed off empath was trouble. Raising her gauze covered hand -burnt from a kitchen incident not a few days before, Ophelia pointed an accusing finger, "You killed it dead, but it didn't bleed red. How cruel a fate for a nature mate. It's not right to rage on that one darling page. Shall rest the soul of one fine bark, forever stolen from man and park."

She'd have a burial next week if she could.

[captaine_sykes]

Staring at Ophelia like she had grown another head (or three) Ethan crossed his arms across his chest and then uncrossed them before recrossing them and glaring at the shorter, reddish-pink haired mutant as she babbled on. "I didn't kill the tree Mayspring, merely moved it from an upright position to a horizontal position."

He's not even trying to be funny, he just can't be bothered to even go down the route of working out why Mayspring would be so upset over the tree. Other than the fact being she had been sat in it at the time. Which yeah, he could normally understand why she migth be just a little bit miffed at his actions. ANYWAY!

Barely giving the tree another glance Ethan lowers his arms from across his chest and repeats the same clench and unclench action over and over as he waits for Ophelia to say something. He's trying to remind himself why killing a team mate is a really bad idea.

[mad_asahatter]

It took a few moments for Ophelia to realise who 'Mayspring' was before she remembered that it was her. The smallest scowl pulled at her face and she pouted slightly. "Trees stand up, never down, what you've done is made it frown. There's nothing right, you made it wrong, and now she'll need to find a new song."

Her poor tree, Ophelia turned to look at the tree; splintered near the base, sprawled out over the grass and felled like it was nothing. "Why the tree, why set it free? What's wrong with the day, what makes the clouds so gray?"

No one assaulted trees for no reason, no one just pummelled the trees. And Ophelia could overlook falling out of the tree since Ethan had caught her. But she would like to know why he had killed her tree anyway.

[captaine_sykes]

"Stop talking crap Mayspring! Say what you mean!" This wasn't Ethan. He was never this rude, snipey and callous with his words. Sure he said what he thought but it was always said in a professional tone, manner and way which said I'm being a bastard but I'm being polite about it at least.

Ignoring the tree - it was just a tree for goodness sakes - he continued to watch Mayspring. "Why? Why did I do that? Would you rather I did it to a person? Maybe Daken had a point when he went after Richter. I hear he is the team punching bag at times."

[mad_asahatter]

There was this cold, bitter darkness that just sort of crept through Ophelia. The outright rudeness towards her, the crack about her sense, the mild threat towards Rictor. It pushed too many buttons and snapped something.

Normally, Ophelia could brush off the disdain and the dismissal. Not many people had the patience to deal with her fractured little mind and fewer still could truly understand her, or the things she said. But she'd never been so quick to anger over the dismissal of her illness.

"Not right to fight without pure sight. You'll lose and bruise but wholly amuse. It's not with a bark, nor with a bite. But you can huff and puff with all your might." Her eyes were cold and steel grey, her face a mask of indifference while the steady build of illfeeling just sept through her.

"Mary had a little lamb, his eyes as black as coal. And if we play quietly, Mary never has to know."

[captaine_sykes]

If Ethan was even able to comprehend just what he was about to potentially unleash he would have backtracked with his comments, apologised and gone to seek help. But the chemical thrumming through his veins was clouding his vision, impairing his ability to make rationale judgements and all of this was being caught on camera for the research being conducted.

"Run along now Mayspring." Turning his back on the pretty, petite mutant he didn't perceive as a threat Ethan grabbed his gloves off of the floor and dusted them free of tree chippings before turning to assess the felled tree.

He should have caught the tendrils of illfeeling that were starting to radiate out from Ophelia but he was too blinded by the rage that thrummed through his veins.

[mad_asahatter]

Run along now, run along now. It echoed in her mind but it wasn't his voice. It was something else, something twisted and musical. Something just as insane as she was. It was like something else that twisted up inside her again, and she wasn't rightly sure what she was doing, even as he started to walk away.

Under her breath, she started to rhyme, without even knowing what she was saying, "Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, and all the heaven within declare. May set ere long in starless night or kindle with demoniac glare." As she muttered the words, her powers built up, pulling in a swirling bundle of emotions together for one almighty push. She didn't even notice the intensity; the strength of the despair, the darkness of the fear, the shaky insecurity that was purely her own, the delusions of a crazed young man from so many years ago, the paranoia, the psychosis, the twisted anguish of it all.

"The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, whose accents memory would prolong, may tell the story of distress, or warble sorrow's broken song." It wasn't hard to force it upon him, it was simple like the hiss of a fog, the rolling arch of a pure black cloud of despair and anxiety and fear.

She was smug, not noticing that she'd doubled it all back and pulled a mirror of the bundle into herself, folding it over to build inside. Her voice was louder with her borrowed satisfaction, "That heart where feeling holds its throne, which fondly beats to love and me. Cold as the unsunned marble stone, may lie in frigid apathy."

If only she'd known what she'd just triggered.

[captaine_sykes]

He should have known that agitating the likes of Ophelia Mayspring would just bite him in the ass. She was every kind of crazy and then some so, in his saner moments, Ethan had taken to avoiding her like the plague. However right now he wasn't thinking logically so pissing off Maypsring doesn't worry him like it should do.

The bombardment of emotions hits like a tidal wave, engulfing and bleeding into Ethan like it's pouring into his body like air itself. It started with the despair; failure, being pathetic, not good enough and just so fucking useless. Never good enough because he was a mutant and therefore his skills? All a fluke. The anxiety ate at his soul, toying with every little emotion. Failing the team, failing the general, failing his family, failing himself and all the disappointment he could and would cause. Finally the fear.

Gut wrenchingly sickening fear. The kind you got when you were staring down the cold steel barrel of a gun. The fear that you felt when you sent your men out to die knowing you'd live to fight another day no matter what. The kind of fear that sat in the deepest darkest part of your mind and only snuck out to poke and prod when you least expected it. Staggering backwards Ethan couldn't articulate any words, he just yelled out a animalistic cry of terror as he slumped to his knees. Head in his hands.

"No! Nononono! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!"

[mad_asahatter]

Phe just stood there, a few feet away, watching. She'd already soaked up everything that she sent out, left it festering in her gut with no way out, just like the others. Knocking loose her insecurities, her psychosis, her rage, it wasn't a good thing at all.

"Lord of all good! thy fiat spake, to birth, the blessings that I have;--" Did she ever make sense, sometimes. Was it frequent, no. Ophelia understood that Ethan most probably could not hear her, nor would he be able to decipher just what she was reciting. It didn't stop her. "Lord of all worlds! 'tis thou canst take, again, the boon that mercy gave."

Crossing the space between them, Ophelia gently petted a hand through Ethan's hair as he slumped on the grass, holding his head, "Take all, but hear my earnest prayer, 'tis breathed in tears, reject it not,--" Pulling back some of the emotions, Ophelia cast them aside, leaving him cold, almost numb, empty in a way, "Take all--but let me never share," leaning over, Ophelia's small, scarred hand stroked his cheek, her voice taking a chilling turn towards dark, "the hopeless, soulless maniac's lot."

Turning, she started to leave, ignoring the fact that she'd left him with the lingering emptiness of a sociopath. No emotions, no regrets, no needs or wants. Just nothing. It would dissipate, in time. Until then, Ethan Sykes would be a shell of coldness and numbness.