i hunger...for the postings.
There's going to be a great quotient of bitching from me for there to be some input into the IC thread until this thing is done....along with some supplemental material to flesh out the bitching....i'll call this supplemental material 'snippets',
insights and unconnected scenes from mad's past, perhaps not key events, but events that go a ways to describing the character, where he's coming from.
The boy, no older than 11, crouches on the cement rooftop of the dormitory, his damp crimson hair lashing about his face in the rain, as he concentrates, smearing something on the rain soaked surface, where it miraculously stays in the shapes and patterns he makes.
Were the rain not so loud, perhaps the groans from the nearby man could be heard, but the go unheeded by the boy, the only other occupant of the roof on this stormy night, and it's doubtful the boy would care even if he did hear. After all, it was the boy that struck the man on the head from behind, cut his arm open, and began using his blood like ink, covering the center of the rooftop in a complex symbol made of smaller shapes and symbols.
The boy makes a swift, irritated motion, as swatting away something annoying at his ear as he rises from his work, surveying it with an admiring smile on his lips.
"yeah...that should do it."
The boy looks over his shoulder, grinning at the man. "Doncha think Doc? Won't it be 'interesting' to see the results of this little experiment?" The boy puts on an accent, affectating a cultured, clipped dialect, as he looks up in mock consideration. "All other methods having failed to Rehabilitate the patient, i am considering Shock Therapy treatment, hoping to affect some amount of stability in his unstable personality. i expect positive results from Thursday's session."
The boy turns back over his shoulder, a snarl distorting his face, making him look much older than his 11 years, and giving his strange yellow-in-red eyes a feral glint.
"FUCK Thursday!"
Just as the boy is about to launch into a tirade, the door to the roof is flung open, and another boy of similar age, with long, very curly, blonde hair comes out into the rain, followed by children and teens of varying age, boys and girls, some looking horrified, some obviously curious.
The blonde haired boy strides forward a few steps, looking somewhat angry, but also wary. "Mad! what the hell're you doing up here? who the fuck is....is that shueman?!" Muz's eyes dart to the prone form of the middle-aged man on the cement roof, panting shallowly.
"Yeah," Mad drawls to the blonde boy salaciously. "The Doc and i decided to perform a little midnight experiment...The physical and psychological effects of shock therapy on a human. I couldn't wait until my scheduled appointment thursday though, so i decided to take advantage of our nice spring weather."
Mad gestures to the large circular symbol The other boy had almost stepped in. The circle gains a fain red glow about it and the blonde boy steps back. Nervous muttering can be heard from the group of youths still standing at the door. "So...you're going to get yourself stuck by lightning."
The red-haired boy - mad - grins widely, insanely. "Yeah."
"Jesus. Fucking WHY?"
The boy snarls again, rage dominating his face. "BECAUSE, Muz; I've been here for five years, living in this....PRISON! While the doctors and the teahcers just kill me a little bit every day. If i'm gonna live or die, i want it to be my terms. Not these fucks!"
There is shuffling as the crowd of kids moves further back from the circle. The blonde boy, Muz, just shakes his head. "You crazy shit."
Mad jabs a thumb in the doctor's direction. "According to HIM i am, Yeah."
Muz just shakes his head, apparently fed up/ and turns to leave. "That's so fucking stupd. Fine, do it, you dumb shit, so i can go back to bed already."
Then everyone is blinded by a white flash, and deafened by a monsterous crack of sound. The group flings themselves to the ground, but the light and sound are gone as soon as they hit, leaving a bright purple afterimage, and a ringing in the ears. barely audible through this, and the rain, two things can be heard.
The first is Muz, muttering in disbelief. "You did it, you crazy fucking shit...you actually did it!"
The other is a faint, pained laughter, coming from a crumpled, badly burned form lying on the cement roof in the middle of the circle, the blood now flowing and mingling with the water.
"and you survived...you fucking lived!"
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