| Eden; Soul Taker | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 25 2011, 05:00 PM (22 Views) | |
| Elise | Jul 25 2011, 05:00 PM Post #1 |
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Co-Mod of the Chosen RP. Player of Tracker. The wealth of a soul is measured by how much it can feel; its poverty by how little. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -= Name =- Eden -= Age =- Forever Eighteen -= Height =- Five foot, three inches -= Weight =- One hundred, twelve pounds -= Type =- Grim Reaper -= Abilities =- Soul taking, empathy, telepathy, intangibility, and very limited mind control. Can half step into the spiritual plane to travel. W.I.P. Everything cycles. Through the eons, nations rise and crumble. The sun rises and sets. It's the same for people and animals. When it's an animal's time to go, they know it in their heart and seek out which is most comfortable. I suppose it's that way for humans and some non-humans too. I never thought that I'd go to my sister's murderer, or that I'd be dying that night, but I did. Wasn't even his fault, the poor bastard. Everyone has to go sometime, and they don't always get to choose. I never got to choose the first time, and the second time - the final time, I suppose I just got lucky. Ha. Yeah right. Still..my sisters murderer? It didn't make sense to me. I'm sorry for the way I had to go, but something higher up had bigger plans for me. I couldn't say no and so I didn't. I may be stubborn but there's just some things you don't fight with. Planes, trains, and automobiles. I suppose I had a fairly normal childhood. I was adopted, though I didn't know it until much later. I got good grades in school, had decent friends, even did all the things any good girl would growing up. I joined a few clubs, became a cheerleader, even kissed a boy once or twice. At age sixteen, everything changed. I was with my adoptive parents coming back from a football game, and we got in a car accident. I didn't have my seat belt on. I, like my parents, died that night..but unlike them, someone stopped the natural order of things. I don't know who brought me back, but I came back all wrong. The voices, ah the voices. I was given a year's reprieve. Told to live out my life as best as I could. I didn't understand it then, and its still hazy. I woke up in the hospital and I already knew I was different. People were talking, but they weren't saying anything. Everyone's voice was like a radio station, all different. It wasn't long before I realized those voices were thoughts, ideas, or memories. I should have died that night. To be honest, it should have freaked me out. In a way it did, but like all things I learned to cope. It didn't come easy. I took that reprieve and lived life to the fullest. I was taken to my aunts, went to high school there in Georgia, even made a few friends. I wanted to continue my life as if nothing had happened. I couldn't shut it out forever. I developed new abilities, though I tried to hide it. I wanted to be normal, but there were other plans for me. A temporary reprieve, that is all. Like all things, she had to die too. You are the Chosen. I was taken to Camp Remington, a place for people like me where we could train our abilities and work for a higher purpose. Their purpose. If I knew what I know now, I would have never stepped foot on that island. I could have lived my life in obscurity, I never would have met my sister, never saw her killed by a Beast that I neither loathed or hated. Like a puppet, people used me, used my friends. Like iron in the forge, I was molded and shaped into a weapon. I couldn't stop it. Accept your destiny. A year's reprieve is all I was given. In those last days I knew it was the end. I didn't want to go, but I started changing anyway. I helped all the people I could, did all the things I wanted to do. Got into a few fights. Even got to sleep in an alley once. It was a dream of mine, and like all dreams, I had to wake up sometime. I died in a warehouse that a Russian mob used for their pleasure. Not the way I had planned it, and it certainly wasn't his fault. Not that anyone would understand that. When its your time, you don't get to pick the time or place. You are just done. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. There were no roses, or daisies for that matter. No one cried over my body. Like all things, my body was left to return to the Earth it was born from. Fading Memories. I don't remember everything from my last life. I suppose we're not supposed to. Forged by destiny, shaped by experience, I have a higher purpose now. I am the ferryman, the gatekeeper. I don't understand everything yet. I have a different form, a different face, but my soul is the same. They say a diamond is forever..well, they have nothing on me. Welcome to Death, son. Not everyone has nine lives. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Begin to see yourself as a soul with a body rather than a body with a soul.
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8:52 PM Jul 10