It all started with Ahmet Benici. The World's lead scientist published his findings that the laws that govern our world would change so drastically human life would not be possible. It was his findings that urged the U.S government to begin a secret project, Project New World. The purpose of this project was to save humanity from its impending doom. So I invite you visitor, whoever you are it doesn't really matter. Come, sit down at your keyboard and tell me, what role are you going to play in this story?
Setting
There are many rumors and stories to be told about the city of Chase. Stories and tales rise from the mysterious forest that borders its northern side. There's big talk of some government project happening on the other side, but no one can know for sure. The small town has a rather sparse population of 20,000 people and is kept isolated from its neighboring town by Wyers lake.
In terms of time, this site will follow real time to accommodate for the short life expectancies of compound patients. The current month is December, the year 2062.
Note: Please note this site is rated PG-13.
Disclaimer: All pictures and images on this site belong to their rightful owners. We do not and will not claim to own them. However the site plot and idea belongs to Time Lapse, please do not steal!
Flint hadn't expected Feral to take the initiative in such a tricky situation, but he had heard things about the boy, and considering he was hiding from the White coats, it was safe to assume he was a troublemaker. So why would Flint take his advice? It would most likely bring him into the path of most conflict. But because Feral was the only one who'd kept his cool, and because the other freak must know how dire his situation was, Flint did as he said. The boy began to take slow deep breaths, but he couldn't keep the shimmering patches from reappearing on his body.
They came at first like blue patches of sunlight, illuminating whatever part of him they touched and slowly joining together. Flint fought vehemently to ward them off, force them down, but it was his own terror that had brought the fields out. In seconds he was covered from head to toe in a light shimmering substance. It had the faintest of blue hues, but the larger it became the more translucent he found it was.
Only spurred on by the fact he couldn't control himself, the boy lowered his head into his hands, gritting his teeth. His breathing became rapid and uncontrolled though he knew panicking wasn't going to help him. His collar suddenly beeped to life only to whir and crackle as it died again.
But when Feral began to speak, Flint tossed him a sharp look. It was a split-second decision he made, to trust Feral. Perhaps it was because his unsociable elder had already extended some sort of help and appeared to be doing it yet again. Flint offered a shaky nod and had only just been about to say something when Feral grabbed him by the collar.
As he was slammed down against the coffee table, the other boy cried out in pain. A mind-numbing agony tore through his body, lights flashed behind his eyes and his they began to roll to the back of his head. He had just come out of treatment! "What the hell?" He spat, looking somewhat terrorized. He had no intention of fighting anyone. He wasn't a fighter. "Let me go! I don't want to fight you." He raised his hands in a meek defense. Anyone who knew anything about Flint would know that the boy was quick to back down to conflict, willing to submit in almost any situation if it meant avoiding a fight.
Was Feral's plan really to rough him up and pretend he broke the collar? Or was the kid crazy and fully intending to carry out what he had seemingly started. Already the blue shield began to appear on his body, hopefully to protect himself from whatever Feral might do to him.
Either Flint was an excellent actor, or his agreement to trust him was extremely short lived. Smelling the fear though, he'd assume it was the later. In the boy's defense, Feral wasn't exactly the easiest person to trust, especially when he was literally tossing you around like a rag doll. But for once he was actually helping someone else, even if it didn't exactly look like it at the moment. And... Let's be honest. He was doing this for his own benefit. If he helped the Shield, it was only natural that he'd feel obligated to return the favor, right? That was his motive for this, though it'd be much easier if Flint caught up with the program.
Feral held the collar with a locked grip while his other hand had pinned one of Flint's arms down by his wrist. He snarled, baring those dangerous fangs with what could easily been mistaken as intent to tear into the boy's face. Tempting, but that would kind of go against his plans. But for the sake of making this look real, he was going to play his part and use Flint's genuine fear to convince anyone who may have doubts. "Fine!" he growls. "It'll make it much easier to kill you!" he continued, not seeming to be too swayed by Flint's pleas to stop.
Already, Flint's shield was forming across his body, prepared to fend off Feral's attacks. At least he knew where the name came from? It didn't stop him from reeling Flint back by his collar and slamming him back down into the table, even causing it to crack a bit beneath the force. Believe it or not, he was actually showing some restraint, or trying to. It might be safe to say Feral didn't quite know his own strength.
Once he was satisfied with pounding him into the poor table, he'd lift him up with ease and toss him across the room, knocking over a few bystanders who happened to be in the way. Cushioned his fall? Probably not. He wouldn't relent though, already stomping his way over to keep this going when the Calvary would finally arrive, yelling at him to stop.
Wouldn't matter if he listened, of course, as they were already storming towards him with the intent to subdue him before he could cause anymore damage. "You fucking owe me..." he snarls to Flint, once again low enough for just the two of them, before he'd turn his attention to the approaching guards.
Unsurprisingly, one had already went for a remote to shock him if need be, and though he started to reluctantly show surrender, the button was pressed anyway and he dropped to the floor where the other guards would secure him, fastening cuffs tightly to his wrists. "What the fuck happened here?!" the guard with the button had yelled, looking down to the assaulted Flint who was looking particularly more blue than usual.
Flint almost lost conscious beneath Feral's violent pounding. He had not agreed to this plan. He didn't not like this plan. If Feral didn't fuck off he was going to obliterate him. Although with his lack of experience, expanding the force field was more than likely to trap Feral inside, not fend him off. The boy moaned in pain as he was slammed yet again, feeling the table crack beneath him. He almost hoped it would crack so Feral would stop. What more could the boy already do to him? Unfortunately, Feral had the answer. When the boy threw him across the room, Flint tried to regain some sort of balance, some equilibrium in which he wouldn't be used to mop his blood off the floors. But his limbs wouldn't obey him, his body was numb and aching. When he was thrown into the poor innocent bystanders, Flint silently hoped Feral hadn't unintentionally started a riot.
But the freak wasn't done with him. Raising his head weakly, Flint saw the boy stomping over. Needless to say, a definite space cleared around the boy. No one wanted to be anywhere near him when Flint reached him, but he never did. Flint watched with bleary eyes as the guards stormed into the room. He fought to push himself to his knees but to no avail. His muscles burned and ached, his limbs shook and refused to listen to him. The glowing shield that had once coated his body now began to subside beneath his skin where it was no longer visible. The shield had done very little for him as Flint still felt every ounce of pain the other boy had inflicted. At the guards sharp voice, he once again tried to utter some response, but the only thing that came out was a pained moan, his eyelids growing heavier by the second.
He owed Feral? For what? Beating him to a pulp? Whether he thought he owed him or not, if Feral came stomping around again and asked for anything, the boy was likely to give in to avoid any more conflict between them. He was faintly aware of someone forcing him to his knees, though the gesture was done gingerly, with care. He could only assume it was the doctors or perhaps even the nurse that had brought him here. But already the boy's eyes had fluttered shut, and his consciousness began to spin wildly out of his control.
Feral's face was pressed against the floor, as for some reason they thought that was necessary. He might have laughed at the thought were he not currently in pain. That shock wasn't necessary. Leave it to him to think that for once these big headed brutes actually had a functioning brain. For once he was giving up! Then again, given he never actually gave up, they might have assumed it was a trick or failed to even notice... Still.
He might have hurt Flint a bit more than necessary. Oops? Well he still appeared to be alive so he wasn't too worried. It just made the 'fight' between them seem more realistic. Whether Flint remembered or not, the fact of the matter was he made it work. They'd have no reason to suspect Flint had broken the collar on his own, not unless four-eyes blew their cover. For now though, he didn't seem capable of speaking, so with a grunt, Feral decided to answer himself. "Fucker looked at me funny..." Hardly a good enough excuse and the twist of his arm might have made it clear as Feral snarled, wincing in pain.
"Get that mutt out of here." the main guard had ordered, the two that had subdued him roughly hoisting him to his feet and leading Feral out of the room. He wasn't sure what punishment they had in store, but he was sure he could take it... Right? Flint just better make all this shit worth it next time he saw him. He growled at the thought, lowering his head as he allowed the two to lead him.
With the threat out of the room, the nurse had tried to help Flint to his feet, only to find he was losing consciousness. "I need to get him back to the infirmary..." she addressed the remaining guard, hoping for some assistance. After literally just getting off of the operating table, he really didn't need this sort of stress and could have some internal bleeding, if not worse injuries considering who had attacked him!
Flint might be the Shield, he might be more durable than most, and he might recover more than most, but Feral's attack had done a number on him nonetheless. The boy was a limp doll in the nurse's grip and though he grumbled every second of the way, the guard helped the nurse hoist Flint back to the infirmary.
There was no doubt in the boy's mind they would replace his collar. But after what he'd heard the scientists say, about his gift meddling with the collar's functions, would they buy into Feral's act? The scientists were in fact, the world's smartest people -in some aspects. It was their job to make observations, to create theories, to figure out why things worked and how they affected others. Would they really look past this? Or would Feral's consistent aggressive nature get him off the hook?
The Shield had seen some of the other faculty, kids who were said to be from the Generation Xa. As far as he could tell, they were the ones who survived this hell hole long enough to be recruited as faculty. But what did he know about where they really came from. All he knew was that they seemed to be 'brainwashed', or at least that's what rumor said. Why else would former patients help the White coats? But if the scientists discovered his gift could not be controlled by a shock collar, would they brainwash him as well?
It was to that thought Flint lost his consciousness, sagging limply in the faculty's grip. When he woke up he'd either have reason to thank Feral, or hate him.
[O.O.C: Should we start a new thread later on with the two of them?]
