-Yuriah-

(Yer-ee-ah)

{Last: Wilstone}

[Age]

Twenty Seven

[Gender]

Male

[Sexuality]

Heterosexual..

[Occupation]

Jobless

[Appearance]

Attenuate, dark brown hair falls in soft waves down the sides of his face, just below his chin. Styled similar to that of curtain bangs. In the right shaft of light, his head can seem nothing but a cap of auburn flames. Yuriah has a hooded shape of the eye, an iris devoured entirely in a captivating dark green. And beneath his lower eyelids resides faint but still evident bags, an appearance which makes him seem more tired than what he actually feels. His lashes are short, but they do not fall straight. They curl delicately above and below, thin and hard to see. But at least they’re there right? With a thick, s-shaped brow to boot, the man has appreciative features, something that he can at times take for granted. He has wide ears, the tips pushing through his locks at times, well-- all the time.

Yuriah has warm beige skin, smooth but not unblemished. He has a few common moles on the left side of his neck and shoulder, like an array of dark dots. He has slightly plump, downturned lips. Inside his mouth, canines which can be deemed sharper than usual. The man doesn’t have any “pearly whites” His teeth are tinted a visible yellow, faint in appearance but over all, a natural color. Frankly, he doesn’t understand how one can have perfectly dove pale teeth-hmph. Yuriah’s head can resemble that of a rectangle; a cutting jaw which holds dark stubble, all along his chin and top lip. Its slightly faded but still present nonetheless. Some of it trails subtly down to the top of his neck, and..it's spiky, not good for cuddling.

The man had a straight nose. Emphasis on “had.” Now it's crooked, though not dramatically, it can seem noticeable when close enough to the face. The end is raised just a bit, the bridge long and firm. Yuriah has an adams apple, something that bobs softly whenever he speaks or swallows. When he smiles, a simple smile, his mouth tends to stretch particularly wide, almost in a peculiar manner. Similar to what one would wear in a moment of crazed desperation. But not to worry, it's harmless. Yuriah has a muscular physique, broad shoulders, thick thighs, an okay, four pack of abs..-Though its not all that defined, a softer version one could call it. When tense, streaks of protruding veins make a quick appearance throughout his forearm and knuckles. His chest is slightly elevated, small hairs swirled lucidly atop and above.

Yuriah has a prominent v-line, as well as a slightly curved waist, but nothing more than that. The man has a height of 6’0, nothing impressive, and nothing small. Yuriah has a relaxed, pliant gait. The type of walk where he sways his arms carelessly with each step. Long strides which are quick and smooth, but not effortless. There are more than enough times where he’s stumbled over nothing but air, clumsily lifting his feet from a puddle he’s trudged in absentmindedly.

He has nails, clipped short and polished in sleek black paint, well his index finger and thumb at least. One thing that might never change about Yuriah would probably be his scent. A refreshing smell of wintry breeze and a cordial, fragrant spray of slight blossoms. It's not sourced from any average cologne, but something homemade, a “family recipe” of sorts. And he’ll gate-keep it however long he feels. Hah. At times, Yuriah will have his hair tied in a minnie ponytail or bun, maybe even slicked back--just to appear well-kept. He most certainly cares for what he wears. One will never find the man looking like a mess. Yuriah is nearsighted, unfortunately. So whenever something from afar captures his attention, he’ll almost always have a pair of circular glasses on hand, put on briefly for the sake of his own sight; and any headaches, should they appear.

[Scars]

He has only one, a small scar behind his ear. Boring right?

[Accessories]

His left ear is pierced. The lobe and a helix piercing. A specific silver in color and rather simplistic.

[Tattoos]

Yuriah has an ass tat. An embarrassing image of kermit the frog that he had committed himself to in his idiotic youth. He wishes to rid himself of it soon.

[Voice]

His voice is sort of deep but youthful.--Could be described as boyish. It’s slightly raspy as well, like he needs to clear his throat.

[Some Attributes]

|-Humorous |-Reserved |-Distrusting |-Lively |-Chaotic |-Patient |-Witty |-Sarcastic |-Unwavering |-Blunt |-Authoritative |-Protective |-Unsympathetic |-Selfish |-Disloyal |-Understanding |-Guarded |-Fun-Loving |-Resilient |-Apathetic |-Sociable |-Materialistic |-Deceptive |-Calm |-Clear-headed |-Weak stomach |-Careless |-Ambitious |-Insatiable

[Personality]

[Attire]

Yuriah prefers baggier clothing. Graphic tees, simple jeans, ripped jeans, large puffy jackets..Thats more so his style, a factor would be the comfiness, and the main reason would be that he sweats, like a lot.

[Likes]

Tea

Good Humor

Strategy

Blankets

Cold nights

Money

A good smile

[Dislikes]

Tight clothing

Clinginess

Sheer stupidity

The dark

Contradiction

Being poor

Romance

[Kin]

His mother and father abandoned him and then died, and then abandoned him again as ghosts when he was a boy because they thought he was a cursed child. He was then passed onto his uncle who was an alcoholic and would neglect him when it came to parental duties. He had no friends and had a blue eye which would glow whenever he got mad. The rest of his family is dead including his older sister who died trying to save him from his own immense, huge, undefeatable power. He scared everyone away and is now a sad loner. His other eye gets red when he gets really sad..

Just kidding.

Mom-Eleanore Wilstone, a strict but polite woman

Dad-Kyle Wilstone, an arrogant but kind man

Sister-Naudia Wilstone, a clever, prissy brat

They all broke

[Other]

Naudia will sort of be my second character. But she’ll be described and stuff in the rp.

“So you’re up for it.” It was more of a statement than an inquiry, like the initiator was merely authentifying rather than questioning. Which was true. He was. Sat on dusty concrete, pressed comfortably against a neighboring presence, there came a soothing sort of breeze, passing by their ankles and ruffling their pants leg in a refreshing sitting. She cocked her head at him expectantly, shoving her hands in the fuzzy pockets of her jacket, all the while a graceless grin would wrinkle her rose brushed cheeks. “That way if you get picked off too easily, there’ll be another Wilstone to secure our chances. You always gotta have back up.” The soft utterance of an insult had not gone unheard, but if anything solely focused on. His ears had perked, eyes slanting into a look of ambiguity. “Dummy huh? Can you not go one day without slandering your big brother?” I shouldn’t be allowing this..Naudia thrown into this crazed loop..But, I can’t muster up the feeling to properly care. Was he a bad brother? Had he become so blinded by his desire, his hunger for riches that he’d let his sister put herself in harm's way? --A scoff that was supposed to be inward, silenced and suppressed within his mumbling thoughts, extracted itself from his lips, presented in a small puff of visible cool air.

A chilly pair of eyes locked onto his peripheral, enticing an uneasy stiffen to shape his slumped physique. But there was no contradiction. The movement helped, for his ass had begun to feel numb, pressed heavily against the hard, cold cement; on the very edge of a curb in which the dark road stretched what seemed to be infinitely past. Naudia grumbled lowly, crashing a swift fist against her palm. “Scoff at me again and I’ll jump on your back and put you in a chokehold!” He knew she was serious. Nothing that falls from that rotten mouth is a joke after all, and if so, it’d be humorless, void of any evicting laughter whatsoever. It's why he feels the need to coach her. Provide information on the funny and not funny, you know, keep her up to date.. But she’s hopeless, thus why he had long ago given up.- Devising brief lessons on humor with uncertainty, and mostly on impulse.. “And you think a weakling like you can accomplish such a feat?” Yuriah jeered, his knuckles crackling in a satisfying pop with the additional pressure of his hand. He knew how this would go, for their brawls were not few and far between.

There was a sudden, but then again not so sudden weight which slammed against his back, slender fingers hooking roughly into his wind tousled hair, and then finally, skinny legs clamped tightly around his waist. But he didn’t give her the chance to shoot her arms across his neck; standing albeit a bit wobbly with her aggressive wave of the body, but nonetheless seizing her thin elbows in his clutch, an irascible chuckle pressed ruthlessly throughout his throat. If this fight had been in the comfort of their own home, he wouldn’ve dipped his head forward and slammed her on the couch, mercilessly twisting her arm so as to keep her from diving at him again, but it wasn’t. In fact, he could almost taste the questioning looks the both of them were collecting like eager children would do on an easter morning. But he didn’t care. And by her fierce cry, neither did Naudia.

“If you get to scratch, I get to punch you in the face.” Puffed the victor, his green glazed eyes inspecting the small slicings of his arms with a wary spark. The thick fabric of his jacket had been rolled up past his elbows, and his body jostled softly with each long stride he took down the sidewalk, his sister in obvious tow. She muttered a response, coating her chapped lips in stored saliva, though it had quickly dried in the glacial air, leaving nothing but her lengthy locks to tickle her parting mouth. “I’d like to see you try.” And there, their carefree vigil would finally come to an end, for the crisp buzz which rumbled softly in the both of their pockets had decided it. The siblings cast each other a look, but only one reached in to grab the vibrating phone. And after a quick, flighty scan, Yuriah would raise his eyes, snapping the device shut concurrently to a nervous exhale blown between o shaped lips. “Let's go get ready.” And there would be a breath and a sharp inhale at the same time. Their uneasy words left unsaid..for they already knew. Oh yes they knew.

Yuriah’s hand came down hard against his left thigh, inconspicuously keeping his limbs from sloshing away like shaken jelly. His clothing was something else entirely now, a long sleeved shirt detailed in uncolored, thorny vines which wrapped meticulously across the arms. The base a milky white in color. And he wore a washed out pair of blue shorts, chunky in size. The man's hair had been curled delicately along his face, long slim bangs accompanied by the rest of his slick, slightly waved locks. Thick dark straps were pinned flatly across his chest and shoulders, the backpack which only fools would think was an accessory, had been weighted with an assortment of objects and materials he would be sure to put to good use. His feet were sheathed in tight white socks, openly visible due to the weathered down slides that were slid upon them, perhaps a poor choice in shoe wear. Why waste my sneakers? The justifications would be cut short, for the front door had swung open with a soft jingle, and from there, Naudia pranced cheerily from the glowing gas station, the building casting almost eerie shadows upon his gaunt expression. Knuckles pressed quick against his lips, pursed in the almost euphoric presence which had a body dressed in dull green sweats. “What's with the act?”

“If you're scared, just say that.” She snapped, tossing her shabby looking braid behind her inflated head. Their light brown skin was readily illuminated by the streetlamps they had passed, flickering in a manner that resembled his increasing doubt. Perhaps this was all a sham. A trick to gather all the desperate fools and have a merry laugh at their ridiculous preparation. His suggestion of retreat had almost passed his chilled lips, brows furrowing in mild contempt, but not before a shaded blue car tumbled down the street, screeching to a swift halt that had the frail wisps of his hair blowing softly against his eyes. He knew this was their ride. Either that, or he had misunderstood and was now in the process of becoming a missing persons case. They’d find out soon enough. Yuriah crawled into the backseat with a small huff, clenching his fists with rattling unease. Once Naudia’s body knocked into his and the car door slammed shut, the ride veered off. He had tried to lock eyes with their chauffeur a number of times but instead got small, unsatisfying glimpses of their pale ivory flesh which would flash at the edge of the wheel every now and then, turning sharp corners or gyrating the car in a rocking motion. Still, he eagerly digested every piece of information, memorizing every detail of the car as if it was second nature.

“Spooky, huh.” His sister brazenly commented, her voice hushed and low. He knew what she was referring to..after all, his gaze had been latched onto the person's movements for a while, occupying his aimless stare because of the night's clouding. He left his sibling unanswered, the car's headlights milking away at the obscuring darkness, gradually revealing the large warehouse that they had begun to pull into. He took the lead, hopping out of the vehicle with the rusted walls encompassing his frame, his vision blurred with the black night which had worsened when the entrance had scrolled down with a tired bang. For a moment, it was silent. And then the next, the lights shot on in each tall bulb, beaming down on his tight-lipped expression. --A soft voice would echo about the walls, almost soothing to the ears. “Please make your way to the doors.”

And as soon as they pushed through, a team of unfamiliar faces flocked their sides. Plenty hands hooked swiftly onto his left arm, and Naudia was dragged away by her right. Smoothly, they were cracked apart, but none looked too worried..If this frightened them then they’d have no place here. They both knew that. Yuriah allowed himself to his guides, his legs stretched forward in efficient strides which kept in pace with the strangers' speedy walks. His gaze had wandered though, leaking onto the cold looking floors and the rather..nice decorum which loomed delicately over each white laced table and counter which inhabited gleaming silver platters. Would those be filled soon? Once tucked securely inside of a sturdy booth, a small, gloved hand would push through the cloth screen, a sandwich of clothing in hand and something rather interesting on top, like a crown. Except it wasn’t. A mask..? As he began to unravel the freshly ironed clothing, he noticed the color scheme. He had been given a dark top, button up, and an equally dark tie, though it had flecks of brilliant orange embroidered in a serpent like design. There was a toned down blazer to match, a shaded citrus exactly like the designs on his tie, in color. It was solid and relatively long, a bit past his rear. Next was a pair of black slacks and then the dress shoes which mimicked the snake like appearance. And finally, his mask.

It could be classed as simple. Devoured in a shady black which even the night sky would grow envious of. This was all...playing out a bit differently then he had imagined, but if they insisted on dressing him up nice, who was he to object? He’d play along. But this little masquerade party, whatever it was meant to be, perhaps a welcoming of sorts, would not distract him from his goal. I’m not here to make any friends...I’m here to win

The inner frames of the mask felt almost cold against his face, bordering his eyes and singling out the color of his sharp stare. The clothes nestled comfortably beneath his arm shifted ever so slightly, his previous clothes. His comfortable clothes. While they weren’t spectacular or anything, at least they felt nice; harboring resilient strands which as a whole, made the attire perfectly durable. He hadn’t expected this. If he had only known this would be their first activity then he wouldn’t have wasted such clothing. It would’ve been wrapped nice and neat in the depths of his closet, not in the arms of these strangers. Yuriah had stepped out with dutiful eyes peering intently back at him, the pale glow of artificial light highlighting his uncomfortable smirk. With brisk movement, his backpack and previous garments were snacthed from his person, the two offenders gliding off with silent retreat simultaneous to the feel of hands pressing gently against his shoulders. The workers' costumes were simple milky white robes, thin and rough, similar to that of cardboard but loose like a fluffy blanket. He felt it with just the brief brushes against his swaying arm, legs wrapped in the formal set of black trousers shifting in a slow, curious walk.

Despite the blazer snug against his black button up shirt, Yuriah still felt the cool air pooling along his skin, gliding up his pants leg and chilling his dark socks. Irritation melted and saturated the tip of his tongue but he bit it back, deciding against a fruitless argument. Not that they would speak to him anyway. Their faces were shielded by a papery shade dark wrap but judging by the look of their hands, he was being directed by two women. --Their fingers pressed further against his cased flesh, a wordless suggestion which he had little problem completing. How much faster do I have to walk? A compressed sneer gently furled his lips, but it hadn’t been very long until he was released. It was sort of funny, experiencing the feeling of what a mere prisoner would obtain when their guards escorted them down a hall. But then again the word “escort” might be too soft of a use.

A curious hum would vibrate throughout his throat, eyes taking in the new setting while he ran an aimless thumb across the back of his left hand; a calmed fidget. It was the same space he had peeked at before, but in such a short time, the ceiling had been draped with a sparking chandelier, the simplistic tables from before capsulled in a thin but beautiful blanket of heavy black, contrasting against his orange theme. It was a fanciful atmosphere, spacious too. Immediately, he was drawn to the plates of edibles which were sprawled carefully across each top and counter. A soft creak of classical music kindled something odd inside of him, a feeling of subtle unease. But he resumed his nimble hands instead of a tentative pause, piecing a squared saltine cracker between his index and middle finger. The man would turn, nibbling and soaking his tongue in the savory taste whilst numerous footfalls reverberated about the paint peeled walls. His gaze flicked casually from figure to figure, all dressed nicely, and all briefly driven by the pale clothed people residing in their very shadows.

Huh. There's so many. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that he and his sister weren’t the only ones in a bout of struggle.--Futile enough to be driven to this position, exactly where he is now. Really, he had nothing to lose. No special possessions, no memorable relationships, no job. “Hmm” There had been a slight lift in his voice, a spontaneous incitement of failed laughter. But it was bitter. Not to be mistaken as joyous. He had no job. And because of it, here he was, partaking in this almost unbelievable experiment which he could possibly never be seen walking out of. Gradually, the empty spaces about the dining area slowly became populated, and yet the only sound thrumming throughout the building were the taps of shoes and the spectral coo of music. It was less of a party and more of a silent feast. And he almost chuckled at the compromising demeanors which sharpened everyone into quietude. Yuriah stepped away from the crowded tables, swallowing his cracker and tapping a finger against his mask in a smooth check of security.

Bzztt...bzzt..bzzzzt. The noise had not only come from his pocket, but everyone elses as well. It was a quick conclusion but the offbeat buzzes were a dead giveaway. People hesitated, others did not. Yuriah was one of them. He delved into his pants pocket, retracting his gifted phone and eagerly reading the message which had engulfed the entirety of the screen. Those who reveal their identities will be disposed of… That's pretty curt for my tastes. The man commenced in an intimate mumble, cocking a brow in small surprise. There weren't even that many participants here. Only thirty or so. Who knew these people, these puppeteers were willing to sacrifice their small numbers over something so trivial. They’d all get to know each other later on anyway. Even still, Yuriah settled his mask further over his eyes in a manner of diligence. It had begun to ride up his forehead a bit. And there was no way in hell he’d be eliminated so easily because of it.

“Yuriah.” Eeeh. His initial reaction was a spike of starlement shooting dangerously up his arms, but then his body had calmed at the familiarity, groomed over various of years to recognize such a watery voice. He’d turn on his heel, stare fastening onto Naudias slender physique; clothed in a fine gown which appeared soft in silk..Orange in color. Her mask would be a copy of his if it weren’t for the ring of carrot tainted beads outlining its frame. He shuddered. “They made you my look-alike.” Yuriah made a gentle proclamation, placing his hands on his hips with dramatized vexation. Naudia nodded, crossing her arms with realization. “Maybe they have a thing for matching siblings. Look, there's another pair over there.” He followed her intent stare, analyzing the ruby red twins with scrutiny. Both female. If what his sister said was true, then besides them and those other two over there, everyone here was an only child. Lucky bastards. Or maybe their whole family just isn’t broke

Body stiffening abruptly at the sound of a rough crash, Yuriah felt nails dig irritably into his skin, Naudias body leaping clumsily into his own. He’d began a critical stare on the unfolding scene just feet to his left, taking in the tapestries folded in a messy pile on the floor, ripped from the neighboring table by desperate, clawing hands. The man warily watched the loud spectacle, shooting his gaze between the two, quiet staff members and the shrieking man who tried his damn best to get away from them. Yuriah saw his face. His face! Immediately, he searched for the mask, only halting his speedy vision once he caught sight of its tattered remains being peeled from the spilled food and plate which lay on the floor, in the hands of a third worker who arrived on the scene. “H-he took it off himself! I would do no such thing!” A nearby voice rang through the stunned crowd, blaring over the resisting participants' accusations and pointed finger. “He did it! He did it!” It was like a broken record at this point. Although Yuriah had a sneaking suspicion that the maskless man might be a victim, he couldn’t summon up any shout of sympathy. Just an annoyed furrow of the brows and a silent wish for this...process to be quickened, however it may be. They were both fools. The man who’d been dragged from the room for letting his guard down, and the other for committing such a precarious act in the first place.. “What’d you think will happen to him?” The clutch on his arm hadn’t weakened, and he detected the slight fear in his sister's voice with shocking ease, and taking that into consideration, the man slackened his voice in a soft soothing whisper.

“He’ll be disposed of.”

“This really is crazy huh.” The clearing of a throat followed by withdrawing hands, Naudia huffed softly, cracking her knuckles in a habitual fashion. He’d take a moment to watch as the sharp indents in his skin; a replica of her long, curved nails, slowly puffed back up, leaving nothing but short thin creases as an aftermath. Ouch. His tongue would fall comfortably between his teeth, a gentle gnaw that’d have his jaw in a leisure chew. It was how he dealt with his concern, something that could be called a quirk, one of many perhaps. That man's failure seemed to have brought the both of them to reality, like a wake up call of sorts. In this place, there was no room for mistakes. If he slipped up, then it was over, all over. Still, Yuriah ironed himself out, lifting his shoulders in a casual shrug. “No turning back now.” And despite his low mutter, a residential ear perked in his direction, Naudia’s similar green eyes narrowing with what seemed like determination. For a moment, he thought she’d say something motivating with how she clenched her fists and all; resembling some type of hopeful hero, but of course, she failed his expectations. “You tryna say I’m scared or something? What's that supposed to mean big brother”

“Weren’t you just clinging to me like some type of baby sloth?” With a twitching lip; cause of supple irritation, Yuriah would pull his head away in a condescending tilt, his sleeves flexed stiff against his arms while ambling in a disgruntled cross along his chest. As his sister began a series of agitated insults, The man, by chance, focused his jaded vision onto an opposing pair of somewhat dopey eyes which seemed directed by a curious peep, staring back at him in a moment of heedlessness. His breath hitched uncomfortably in his throat, an expression of partial odiousness pulling at his face. Was he being targeted? Could it be plausible that this man, at this very moment, was concocting some sort of quick ploy?

For a couple of heartbeats, he studied the back of the man's head; jet black waves slightly ruffled by the thick strap of his mask. He’d remain tactful, taking note of the ring of vibrant blue which encompassed a dark pupil, the lean tall build and warm ivory hands, he’d make sure to engrave it all in his processing mind. Who knows, he might just be analyzing his first enemy. Once the unserious pummeling of his side had ceased, Yuriah turned to face his temperamental sibling, pushing his hands in his pockets with an unimpressed glare. While her behavior wasn’t exactly gratuitous, he knew that it’d be in their best interest to dull that fiery disposition here and now--before she got the both of them an early..retirement. “Why don’t you have some food? Shouldn’t you, of all people, be the hungriest?” He’d tuck his stubble brushed chin between his index and thumb, sticking a thoughtful expression onto his narrowed features. -Then inching his perusal stare about her angular frame, though he allowed it to linger on the arms which protruded naturally from the slick straps of her dress, a brief motion as to signify the lack of brawn.

“Don’t be such a jerk, jerk.” Emitting a small grumble in response, it would be beyond hard not to notice the extensive pout that outlined her lips, but only her brother could tell its artificial sweep. “So you don’t think it's poisoned or anything? I didn’t see you eating so I just followed your lead.” She looked almost ashamed to admit, and as close as he was to a smile of complacence, Yuriah knew better than to start something up now. “ ‘Course not. You see everybody else right? Are they falling to the floor coughing up blood?” With that water-downed heckle, Naudia would jutt out her tongue, child-ish but effective nonetheless, before skipping over towards the throng of goods, strangely on beat with the resounding tunes spitting softly from above. Turning away after a moment of observation, the man not only began an official sweep of the room, but also released the stored up tension in his limbs; a smooth stretch which shot gradually above his head. His jaw would stretch in an impertinent yawn, teeth beginning a gentle glisten in the glowering shine of light which highlighted every detail of their surroundings. “Hey man. You seem like a tough guy.”

A voice that put the phrase “smooth as honey” to shame spoke lowly into his ear. Yuriah, instinctually, he sprung back, lifting his rather flaccid hands to hover above his chest region; a guarded pose. But it didn't last very long, for his arms dropped. Well, one did, and the other flew to his ear in a protective cup; fingers curling tentatively past his pierced lobe. “What the hell..” He murmured, taking in the opposing appearance with reticence. The other man was of course, ornamentally clothed, bathed in an ocean blue suit, adorned in a dark, glowing mask which was frilled with equally colored feathers along the bottom. His hair was a rumpled dirty blond, sliding inconspicuously across his covered brows with nearly every move he made. Green met brown, their eyes locking in a momentary inspection of the other. But unlike his own, the man's gaze twinkled with charming devilry. “You seem like a tough guy.” He repeated. “Me and those others over there are thinking of taking some masks. To you know.., lessen the competition. Ya wanna join up with us? It’ll be funnn..” His voice had raised in a puerile fashion, his sharp elbow nudging playfully into Yuriahs side. Oh..

“...Alright. But the other orange is off limits..” Anyone who thought he’d be noble, all kind and overly considerate, disgusted?, well they were grossly mistaken. This proposition..it’d only be of benefit to him, nothing else. Was he really expected to muster up even a fragment of care for these strangers, these rivals? Yeah, no. He’d have no problem ridding himself of any one person who’d prove to be an obstacle. This team up would be smart. -Yes, he’d be a complete fool to pass it up. The other man almost appeared taken-aback by his lack of hesitation, but a beat later and his devious smirk would stretch his thin lips once again. “Oh-ho ho! You couldn’t wait for this opportunity could you? I knew you’d be a good pick.” Despite being on the receiving end of this stranger's jocular nudges and lively hum, Yuriah composed himself, deciding in a quick moment that voicing his dislikes would be of little use to him. He’d put up with this..buddy-buddy facade for now..just for now. He’d pass a slow hand through his wave of locks, brushing back his fluttering bangs with a sigh. A sigh of preparation. Afterwards, the man began a leisure stroll across the floor, over to the small herd of expectant men whose eyes were glued curiously on his shifting frame. Blue jacket kept pace beside him, knocking his knuckles against Yuriah’s forearm in a friendly manner. “Names’ Venn by the way.”

Not that he asked, but okay. He tilted his sparking gaze towards the shorter man, only by a couple of inches or so, and stuffed his hands into his pockets with a brusque huff. Blue jacket, er--Venn seemed to have caught on, locking his hands behind his head in an indifferent stance. “Ah, I see. You’re the guarded type. Can’t trust us bums with your name I suppose?” Yuriah could tell the difference between contempt, and just sardonicism. And even then, it was a deal more lighthearted than the original term. He’d shrug his shoulders, slowing his walk as they advanced upon the group of men with subtle ease. “You said it yourself.” Immediately, Blue jacket broke out in bellowing laughter, slapping one of his pals shoulders in just one swing. “Ha, you’re pretty funny. Look cool too.” Turning to the rest of the men, he’d then announce. “Guys, meet Orange. Orange, meet the guys.” They all took each other in, their breaths coming out in crisp spells of cold air. But before any of them could make a move, the party was over. Their vibrating pockets a mere declaration.

Previous capsuled air blew rough out of inflated cheeks, blue jacket kicking the toe of his orthodox shoe against the dust marked floor, pale, unflavorful light pooling over the gray boards and exuding an appearance of chilled condition. “Dammit” Their disappointment was evident, the others rolling their colored eyes in mild distaste. “Another time then....I’ll see you around, yea?” Beckoning his crew, or whoever those guys were to him, Venn jogged his way across the space, green, cyan, purple, and a soft lilac strolling comfortably in tow. They seemed calm. Too calm. Like they were..prepared. And Yuriah knew what that meant in this situation, --it would be a complete lie to say that his rattled core hadn’t become fogged with unease. But despite that, the man knew it’d be best to go on with this ploy. He’d disobey his earlier phrase, yeah, he’d make friends. He’d..”see them around” and exert himself into their group, use their companionship as a sweet advantage. It would be for the best, no one wants to be alone when it all starts. No one.

Except for his sister, that is. Her body collided unforgiving against his side, heels clacking irritably against the solid floor whilst her chewing jaws parted in speech; slender fingers tugging curiously at his pockets. “Who were those guys?” Naudia chirped, swallowing her food and skipping smooth along side Yuriahs jostling build. “Nobody.” And he stuck beside that term, shrugging his shoulders whenever she’d attempt another prodding. She’d meet them later on, maybe seduce one of the men and have them coiled precise around her finger. It was what she was best at. --toying with people's hearts as if it were a sparking gadget. “Get in your box.” He spoke gruff, wagging a direct finger at a row of metallic booths, shuffling bodies peeling back the various screens and tentatively stepping inside. She’d follow his gaze, eventually departing from the wrap of his arm and strolling towards the space, tongue coated with heaving remarks and her hair tossed fluffy to the side with a disgruntled whip. “Yea, yea. So much for being in this together.”

They seemed nothing but a mass of villagers, scampering back into their homes and anxiously peering from the folds of fabric as if it were a window, awaiting for their leader to inform them on what was to come, what was next. He, on the other hand, --he was happy to find his bulging bag settled neat on the bench, upon further investigation, his head would bob approvingly at the sight of his early clothes tucked secure in one of the inner casings. His booth was small, but manageable nonetheless, the man awkwardly meandering along the crowded space; the metal seating consuming the most desirable corners to slouch. He’d tug the straps of his backpack tight on his shoulders, rolling them back as to situate his limbs. Simultaneous to his settlement, there came an echo of shoes, fluttering loud in his ears until it stopped..A firm hand shot through the flimsy flaps, the ghostly curtain batting slowly at the black glove until it had calmed into a stilled silence. Yuriah swallowed, plucking the tiny item from their palm with caution. An impulsive thought would bellow about his mind, pricking his fingers to the edge of the screen with intent, curious eyes. Just do it. ..,But he didn’t. For the fear of being disposed started an echoing intrusion about his stomach. He wasn’t special. Nothing would stop these people from tossing him out like a useless rag. Especially if he were to gauge the authorities' own appearance.

“Swallow” Spoke a gentle but strict voice, the hand falling back and darkened shadow straightening from the other side of the thin curtain. He had waited but a few seconds, analyzing the near silhouette and noting its stationed presence. He felt as if the person were peering straight through the dripping silk, observing, keeping watch for the pills eventual demise. And so he tipped his head back, locks rolling down from its slicked stance and tickling his nape in gentle waves. In the pill fell, sitting on his tongue before slipping down his throat, bobbing around the extricating fluids of his mouth. And really, after he had done as ordered, dark green eyes snapped almost involuntarily up back towards the screen, though they were met with nothing but the tweaking light outside the confines of the box. The person was gone, nothing but the easing tap of shoes left as droppings for him to pick. In one sweep, the glowing warehouse had darkened, gobbled up by greedy shadows and dampening his clear vision. This was it, this would be the moment of his death. He should’ve known, it was all just some joke, a school of murderers had lured a herd of fools into their claws and now they’d come rumbling in, hatchets and knives occupying their eager palms and fingers. They’d be slaughtered in the dark, with nothing but maniacal laughs ringing blurred in their ears.

Thank fucking goodness he had begun to faint. Hopefully he’d knock his head against the jutting corner of the bench and be put to rest, relieved of the bloody experience. ..And yet he hadn’t. Well, he did black out, but before complete unconsciousness, he could feel the soft, plump, feathery feel of a pillow pressed comfy against his head, his arm slung slack against an unfamiliar neck. But that’s all he could gather. Now, Yuriah peacefully slumbered in the night, lips cracked open in a loose part. And when he had come to, it seemed a whole other world. Colossal, green hedges encompassed a mass of terrain, eaten by green and yellow tipped grasses. Subconsciously, his fingers ripped at the slender blades, tufts of pretty jade clenched tight in his palm. His fingernails had clumped with soil, ankles tickled by the weaving stems of blossoms by his feet. “What the..” The man started, but a piercing cry disturbed his speech, a bird drifted overhead, reliant wings diving expertly through the open ether. Startled, Yuriah staggered to his feet, head swinging in a multitude of directions, specifically lingering on the tall pines looming curious above, few leaves dwindling down for a meeting.

He felt unrestricted, literally. His movements felt free, no more fitted clothing sucked into every crevice of body. And at that, Yuriah glanced down at his attire, although it was not his own, he was grateful for it. Simple sweats and a baggy shirt. It's like he was...known..to a...T..

Fuck it.

Yuriah squeezed through lowered branches, wobbling a quick gait until he had dispersed from the line of trees, and like a match tainting that of a spurt of gasoline, many others pooled onto the plain, confusion dawdling on their faces and arms swinging somewhat frantically about; voices spacing out in a low murmur.. Was this it? --has it started?

The maze?