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The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13))

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1 The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Mon Nov 26, 2012 12:21 pm

((Flashback style. I added a little bit to it...))

Isabelle nervously stood waiting and waiting some more untill her name was called out. She wasn't looking forward to this power placement thing. With a hero turned villian frost mother, most people probably expected something like that from the young girl. Isabelle herself had no frost powers at all. She took after her father, who'd been a sidekick. Yet her powers were different, stronger somehow. Maybe that was all good her mother did for her in the end. Isabelle stepped on stage and stared at the coach with an expression of calmth while inside she was racing. She concentrated and activated her powers. "Can I have a car?" She kindly requested from the coach. He nodded and pressed a button. Isabelle did not move as the car fell down and she was pretty sure she heard some screams. She felt the car falling through her, which was a funny feeling. She simply walked toward the wheel and honked once before walking through it, and straight through the coach, who shivered.

She had once asked her dad what it felt like to have somebody walked through you but he'd simply said it felt like a bucket of ice had been walking through him. It had given him the shivers and Isabelle knew that it wasn't such a kind thing to do but that didn't stop her from using the trick. People who tried punching her always punched through her, but somehow they didn't feel like trying it more than once. Ah well, that's life. "So what am I? Hero or sidekick?" She asked the coach nervously, fidgetting with her sleeve.

She saw the doubt flicker in the eyes of the coach for a moment. Just a moment before he called her a hero. Isabelle smiled and her spirits were high as she rejoined the group to wait for the rest of the people to be sorted. She herself was totally at ease and feeling like she could finally let go of her past and make a nice and clean start. The feeling lingered as she watched another person get on stage. A boy this time and she could already feel trouble coming and the nerves started to show up. Isabelle patiently waited for the guy to display his power...


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2 Re: The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Mon Nov 26, 2012 12:55 pm

((Still flashback Razz))

The sweaty palms, the stuttered breathing, the awkward fidgeting; Reagan knew how nervous people reacted, what they did, and how to act like one. And even with all the knowledge he had gathered from watching, waiting, not once had he felt the emotion himself. He supposed he could imagine what it felt like, or maybe assume how those alleged 'butterflies' in peoples stomach's felt, but why bother... He wasn't afraid, and therefor his nerves wouldn't interfere with this performance. This one performance which would basically decide what his future would be, Sidekick or Hero. I'm only here to learn, not to become something I'm not. He told himself, watching with vacant blue eyes as the girl ahead of him demonstrated her powers. When she finished, he smiled sympathetically, and began to clap into the awkward silence. Apparently that was wrong.

The coach, with his baseball cap pulled suspiciously low, regarded him as an alligator might it's prey, then beckoned him forward."Are you amusing yourself?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Reagan stared at him with wide eyes, staying perfectly still where he was, hands frozen in front of him. "Oh, not a talker? That's fine. Just get up here and show me if you serve a significant purpose!" He said, and the boy got slowly to his feet, shivering ever so slightly. If there was one thing he really hated, it was adults who used their authority as an excuse to treat others like freak abominations of nature. Not that they weren't... But still. Taking stiff steps forward, he moved himself towards the center of the gym, then met the teacher's sly expression with one of indifference. "Yes, sir."

"Car." And with one word, the fun began. Reagan didn't look up, instead closed his eyes for the fraction of a second, and summoned the all too familiar energy to his body. Imagining darkness coiling itself around his arms, brushing gently against his skin like a tame animal, he opened his eyes again to see the black substance that was aphotic light. Thrusting his hands into the air, he heard rather than felt as energy connected with the automobile, and scrap parts blew into multiple directions, hitting the ground with heavy 'clunk's. Lowering his arms to his side, he stood casually where he was, letting the darkness seep from his hands up his arms until his body was covered in ever shifting black, all except for now pupil less blue eyes. The bumper of the car arched through the air, plummeting back and bearing down on his head. The second the metal came into contact with his skull, it bounced off with a hissing sound, like burning flesh, and landed harmlessly on the ground beside him.

The coach opened his mouth to say something, but Reagan cut him off, placing a finger over his lips in the universal 'hush' sign. Letting the shadows dissipate from his body, the boy let a wicked smile quirk upon the edges of his lips, and took a small step forward. "Let's just talk for a bit, coach." He said quietly, staring him down with iridescent blue eyes that lacked all sanity, before turning toward the other kids and letting the smile split into a grin. "In fact, how about we all talk? So," He said, "how does everybody feel? Nervous, like if you make a single mistake, your life will forever be ruined, I suppose. But you know what, just because this guy right here acts like he is the key to your success, he isn't. And you all know that, so why is it that you're still afraid?"

The shadows in his mind were whispering the words, feeding off the fear that was present in this single room, so strong it was like a being. "Fear- nameless, unreasoning, unjustified, terror which paralyzes the mind and wreaks havoc upon your soul." He said in a smooth, icy tone, though it was no longer his voice that spoke. It was his mind, his other voice, manipulating the thoughts of those around him. "I am fear. I am your fear. I am your darkest fear, and you will listen to me." He- it whispered, and quickly the room around him subjected and crumbled to the shadows.

Unfortunately, it included he himself. Reagan now stood, consumed by his own darkness, in front of a group of people who were either cowering in their places or screaming at invisible objects. Some would feel a surge of terrible dread, while others would perhaps see gruesome details of past traumas, but all of them would bend and break to the will of fear. Even him, though he fought to control what should have been his powers, was seeing flashes of his old life. The coach let out a low, guttural whimper. A girl screamed from somewhere behind him. And then somebody yelled out, [color=gainsboro]"STOP!"[color]

It had been his own voice, and in a matter of seconds, Reagan had regained control over his abilities. "It's okay, you're all okay, all safe! They're just illusions." He called out, but his voice was weak and limbs exhausted as he tried to move from his spot. Staggering forward, the boy channelled whatever power he had left into his voice, squeezing shut his eyes and trying to focus his groggy mind. "Fear is only in our minds. There is nothing to fear, but fear itself." He whispered between clenched teeth, and all at once a heavy weight evaporated from his mind, leaving him only with a ringing in his ears.

Panting heavily, Reagan glanced about him to see that the room was awakening from their episodes, blinking as if they had just been awakened from a day-dream. The coach regarded him with a cold expression, to which he dropped his gaze. "Umbrakinesis. The power to control darkness and create illusions based off fears." He muttered, waiting silently to be judged. His abilities could be powerful, he supposed, in the right hands, but he was just a kid who usually couldn't scare a toddler. But that's what he was here for, apparently, to train and become whatever destiny intended for him. Fun.

"... Hero." Coach said finally, though he seemed more than a little shaky, and more than a little angered. Reagan lingered for a while longer, then ducked his head, "Thanks." He replied, more to himself, then stepped off to the side.


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3 Re: The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Mon Nov 26, 2012 1:28 pm

The guy next up could do some extremely impressive things with darkness and all that mess. He even played with the audience and Isabelle couldn't help but smile. He seemed like such a nice guy, despite his strange power. She felt bad for him though, seeing as the coach had picked him for clapping at her own preformance. She wasn't much of an artist yet, although she would turn out to be one. She watched him, interested in what he'd do next for he made it obvious he was far from done. Isabelle shifted nervously and watched as the guy tried to intimidate the coach, or something.

He started talking in an ice cold voice but was Isabelle saw wasn't cold at all. Her eyes widened as fire surrounded her, the walls of her house burning. Her father was upstairs, she ran to him, dragged him down the stairs. They escaped the house. They were safe. No! The people were all there, wanting revenge for what her mother had done. They wanted her to burn. Locked between the cruel weapons and the burning house Isabelle grew more and more scared. She was only nine. She didn't even have a mother. Isabelle cried but they didn't back off. She was powerless and she had to take her father out of there before they burned to death. She could feel the heat of the flames, even when she was in her less than solid state. Powers or not, she could still burn to death, evaporate untill there was nothing left. Isabelle could feel the hot tears on her face as a man with a crude battle axe approached. She'd done nothing wrong, she didn't deserve this! She watched and begged as he came closer but he was deaf to her words. Heaving the axe, Isabelle watched and she didn't know if she had the strength to activate her powers. She watched as the axe came closer and closer.

Isabelle screamed.

At the same time, somebody yelled to stop. Isabelle fell to her knees, completely weak and gutted. She was breathing hard and while all the other people were obviously shaken, Isabelle felt like she could faint at any given moment. She heard the coach reluctantly call the boy a hero. Isabelle knew he didn't have a choice, his powers were overwhelming to say the least. She felt powerless and she looked up, straight into the eyes of the boy. They were blue, just like those of her mother, pale blue. A new fresh wave of fear washed over her and Isabelle instantly ran for the exit. She ignored the coach when he told her to stop. She ignored the swell of whispers behind her. Most people feared things they had never been through. Their minds didn't realise exactly what it was like when such things happened. Isabelle knew it, she'd been in that situation before, well, almost. She'd had to save her father from death when she was a mere nine years old. The angry mob hadn't been there, they hadn't known her powers. She'd seen their retreating backs as she'd walked through the walls of her burning house.

The house she still lived in. Every single day was a living memory of the worst moment in her life. Nobody wanted to buy the house and they didn't have enough money to move. She couldn't ever escape and she'd hoped school could be her refuge. Now this guy had both reminded her she'd never be safe and made her relive the worst moment of her life, making it even worse. She wasn't about to turn back and stay. She ran straight through the door, crying and trying to catch her breath. She sat around a corner because she no longer had the energy to run. Broken down by her fear she started crying. Heartbroken sobs made sure she didn't hear footsteps approaching. She was stuck in her own world and scared out of her sanity. Well, what a terrible day to start the new school with.


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4 Re: The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Mon Nov 26, 2012 4:35 pm

The girl that had screamed, a girl he did not reckognize, dropped to her knees like a ragdoll. With a wince, Reagan fixated blue eyes upon her face, as if trying hard to make her forget, relax, eyebrows knit together in worry. Quite the opposite. She bolted to her feet, and in a mixture of tears and fear left the room behind her. The rest of the crowd began to murmur uneasily, some staring him and others making jokes and comments about the hero who had tucked in her tail and fled. "Run, Forrest, run!" Somebody called out, followed by an assortment of snickers and giggles. He scowled at the boy who had said it, but said nothing. His mind was in other places, mainly concerned with what she had seen that had scared her so much, and briefly registered that the coach has yelled something at the crowd, probably choosing his next victim.

What had she seen? What had he made her relive? He wanted to know. And though he wasn't quite sure what else compelled him to do so, Reagan began sprinting after her. If anybody noticed his disappearance, then they said nothing, as the only thing he heard as he ran was his own heart protesting and the blood pulsing in his ears. He was exhausted from his performance, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated, but something made him continue to force himself onwards. "Wait!" He called out, though he was sure the girl couldn't hear him. Staggering to a halt, he ignored the pain in his side, forcing himself to concentrate on the noise around him.

Sounds from the gym. Some kids hanging around in the hall. And then, all of a sudden, he heard it. Somebody was crying, genuinely sobbing, tearful weeping tearing through the otherwise pleasant atmosphere. Turning around the corner, he saw the girl, though she didn't seem to notice him. Taking careful steps toward her, Reagan instantly felt guilty for what he had done, accident or not, and knelt down a few feet away. "Are you okay?" What a senseless question. She had run out of a room crying, now sitting torn up in a corner; of course she wasn't okay.

For a second he wasn't sure if she had heard him, and so he reached out to touch her shoulder with cold fingers, recoiling his hand the moment he came into slightest contact. "I'm sorry." He said in a louder voice, though for what he wasn't yet sure. He just felt as though he needed to apologize.


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5 Re: The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Mon Nov 26, 2012 7:20 pm

Isabelle held her breath, trying to stop crying but as she looked up, the guy was there, looking at her with those scary eyes. She instantly closed hers again, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth. "Why did you do that?" She mumbled as she opened her fear filled eyes, staring into the nothingness in front of her eyes. "What did you do to me?" She asked, suddenly finding the courage to look him in the eyes. "This was supposed to be a fresh start, a clean slate. I didn't want the first day to be hell on earth." Isabelle whispered softly. She wiped away the tears but still kept rocking back and forth, hugging her knees. A mental breakdown was not a good way to start the school year with. Isabelle held out her hand, reaching for the hand that had barely touched her. She closed her hand around his, only she wasn't substantial. She reached right through him like a ghost.

Instantly pulling her hand back she hugged her knees again, muttering an old rhyme while rocking back and forth. "Locked in, boxed in, full of fear. My panic grows manic 'till I can't hear. In need of reprieve so I can breathe, remove my fear. Please make it leave." She kept repeating it, faster each time she said it. At a sudden moment she just feel completely silent and motionless. She didn't move for a while, no signs of life. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" She asked, not accusing, just with a sad undertone. "Because I have no concept of the limits of my powers. I just know it hurts to use them in so many ways. I thought that I could be normal, if I left the past behind. You made it come back to haunt me. I still feel weak, I know I am weak for I can hardly stay solid. I tend to 'go ghost' when I'm scared but it feels like I'm lost between two worlds. Will you tell me your worst memory in exchange for mine?"

Isabelle took a deep breath. "If you want to, I can show you what it's like, walking through walls. Would you like that?" She asked, still feeling weak and powerless. She held out her hand, palm up so he could take it if he wanted to take a trip. Somehow dragging him into her world would make explaining easier. It would be easier to tell him about her mother, her father and the angry mob. About her worst memory and her situation. To confide in somebody despite the fact he didn't know her. He could torture her to insanity but she hoped he'd be a decent enough person to use the knowledge as a reminder why he should be careful with his powers. Her own mother had used hers against Isabelle after all. It had been a very painful moment but even now, Isabelle felt herself become a little calmer, although she couldn't help but see the flashback again. With a slightly tortured expression she looked him in the eyes. "Can I have a hug?" She asked, closing her eyes and looking down. She became slightly solid again, at least solid enough to be hugged. Isabelle was scared though, very scared and very lost and she just wanted some support. It would only be fair if that was given by the person who put her in this state to begin with.


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6 Re: The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Tue Nov 27, 2012 6:39 pm

The only sign that she had heard him was that her eyes briefly flickered open, but it was a sign no less. Before he had the chance to offer her a sympathetic smile or a high five, thumbs up or any other cliche, she squeezed them shut again. And then she began to speak, speak words that sent shivers down his spine and splinters into his consience. What did you do to me? He visibly cringed, shoving aside the faint memory of a younger him asking the same thing to his parents. And then he cringed again, this time at the translucent hand that passed through his own, solid hand. It was like a cold presence was passing through him, a feeling he knew all too well, and fought the urge to scramble backwards and away from the apparently disturbed girl. Hugging the arm close to his chest, Reagan stared at her with now wide blue eyes, breath caught in his lungs as she began to recite what he had come to know as the 'Fearless Spell'. Faster, faster, faster did she say those words. And soon his mind saying it with her, whispering the accursed spell over and over and over again until all at once everything went silent.

Shaking himself back into reality, the boy blinked the vacancy from his eyes only to look at the totally frozen, immobile girl. It was like looking at a foggy statue. Opening his mouth to say something, he was interrupted by a mild voice, though he couldn't help but feel sort of ashamed. He had no idea what he had done, no. But he knew very well about having no control of powers; it was something he struggled with everyday. Use darkness in a good way, and it could become light. Too bad it wasn't that simple. Everyday he woke up, Reagan had to walk around with a lid on what was inside, for the safety of himself and others, and sometimes he just wanted to let loose. "Will you tell me your worst memory in exchange for mine?" The girl asked in a tone that was both distant and undeniably sad. This made him shift uncomfortably in his place, as his memory had been as good as erased after the exorcism incident, but he couldn't say no to her. Not after what he had done. So instead he said nothing, just listened to her as she continued to speak in that painfully quiet voice.

She held out her hand to him, offering him a chance to be like her. Reagan dropped his gaze. He didn't know her, not even her name, but out of some strange reason of guilt that he didn't even have, he felt he should trust her. And so, even though his arm was trembling from exhaustion and cold from the lingering darkness, he placed his hand on hers. Instantly he felt the urge to recoil, get away and run from this whole situation until it was all but a fading memory. Can't run forever. He thought bitterly to himself. And then she wanted a hug, this stranger who he had unwillingly terrorized wanted a hug. What was perhaps the strangest, to him, was that he felt he wanted to do it. Needed to do it. Staring into her blue-green eyes, Reagan saw only a broken person, human-being or not, who wanted a little bit of comfort in a world where it was so hard to find. Not unlike him. After a second of hesitation he spoke, "Yeah, sure... Of course." He murmured, voice seeming unsignificant and quiet. Leaning forward, Reagan gently wrapped one arm around her smaller body, keeping respective distance in case she changed her mind. It was weird, contact after so many years of a solitary life, and he wasn't sure whether he cherished it or feared it.


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7 Re: The Fear Effect ((Reagan, PG13)) on Tue Nov 27, 2012 7:15 pm

Isabelle took a deep shaky breath and finally relaxed a little. He trusted her enough to exchange stories. Enough to be willing to walk through a solid object. Most of all, enough to give her a hug. Only one arm had he wrapped around her but Isabelle didn't care. She wrapped both her arms around him and while she pressed her cheek against his chest, she slowly started to tell her story. She simply couldn't do it while looking into his eyes. She had to constantly remind herself that he was real, solid and not just in her mind to torment her. She didn't want to face him and to tell her story, Isabelle needed physical contact. Her mother had been cold and careless, the reason for everything that was happening now. She needed to know he wasn't the same as her mother. He was warmer and his eyes held care underneath the darkness. She needed to reminder herself that he was more like her father, somebody she could trust and confide in. She wasn't sure she believed herself but she couldn't hide this from everybody. She needed somebody to run to when her past caught up with her. Strangely, it seemed like that person was the one person who brought the past to her, in a strange way.

"My name is Isabelle. I am the only daughter of the Ice Queen. She was a superhero but she became one of the worst villians out there. My dad, he tried to stop her, to keep her from going evil and to keep me safe. It worked untill I was seven. My mother locked me in my room, freezing the lock so it couldn't open. I walked out of my room when I heard my father scream. I didn't even realise it at first, that I'd discovered my power. My mom left that day. By the time I was nine, my mom had made so many enemies that both me and my father were outcasts. We live in a house near the woods. As a revenge for my mothers crimes, they tried to burn it down one night. They'd blocked all the exits so we wouldn't be able to escape. They wanted to burn us alive. I managed to get my dad out. I dragged both of us through the burning walls of the house. The pain was increadible but we survived. The firefighters extinguished it and after a while, we could move back in. The house had been solid enough to survive the fire. We never managed to get enough money to afford another house after what happened. Your powers made me remember that night, the night of the fire. I was only nine years old. Yet this time, the people who started the fire hadn't left, they stayed with weapons and they were going to kill me and my father. I was weakened by using my powers and I knew there was no where to run. We were going to die because of something my mom did. I'm scared that everybody here will feel the same as those who started the fire when they find out who my mom is. I'm scared they will wish I was dead. That is my worst memory, my darkest fear. Being hated, killed and judged on something I had no control over." Isabelle said.

She'd been crying all the time, clinging to this guy as if he could save her somehow. She took a breath and stepped back, now daring to look him in the eyes. She kept a hold on his hand though, as she still hadn't allowed him to run through a solid surface. She gave him a weak and broken smile as she walked backwards, leading him straight to the wall. Just before she moved in she gave him a warning. "This might hurt a little. It's not pleasant to move through solid things." She said. Most people puked afterwards. She walked through the concrete wall, feeling the familiar sensation of pushing herself through sand. Every single grain of it, she could feel it move through her. It didn't hurt much, it was mainly uncomfortable. When they emerged in a small storage space on the other side she loosened her grip a little, enough so he could pull away from her if he wanted. "Are you okay?" She asked sympathetically. She knew it wasn't easy to move through solid objects. It never was.


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