The Forgotten Zodiac

((Poor duck with no memory space who hasn't had waffles. You live a sad existence. I only know two other male roleplayers, one of which who always wrote in past tence, which was really, really, really annoying.))

Michael nodded knowledgibly. "I told you, waffles are amazing." Michael finished the rest of the waffle and pulled himself up onto the counter, where he could steal waffles as Sylas made them.

Tyler took the waffle from Sylas and bit into it, dripping onto Werr's sleeve. "Thank you, Sylas." He said, through a mouthful of waffle. That seemed to be a habit in his family.

Timothy woke up in a panic, nightmares of Lotis, James, and agents running through his head. He bolted into the kitchen, practically on all fours and cowered  between Sylas and the counter, whimpering.

((It's not THAT sad. I have the internet. He always wrote in the past tence? Odd.))

Werr looked down at his sleeve, fighting the urge to shove Tyler off. He instead clenched his fist; two small rocks fell out of his pocket, flying over to the counter and grabbing a napkin before zipping back and holding it under Tyler's waffle to catch the drippings. Werr looked up in time to see Tyler darting towards Sylas.

"Oh, Tyler. Good morining! Would you like a waffle?" Sylas asked, smiling happily.

SAGE SAYS:

((It was Tyler both times. Yes, that's how he wrote. It's really annoying.))

Timothy shook his head, clinging to Sylas' leg and refusing to look up. "Don't... D-D-Don't let him. P-Please don't l-l-let him!" Tears streamed down his cheeks, dripping down his face and onto the leg of Sylas' pants. "I'll be g-good, please don't l-l-let him."

((Oops. My bad. They both start with T. And that definitely sounds annoying. I don't even know how I could accomplish something like that. ._.))

"Do not let who do what?" Sylas blinked, opening the waffle maker as it dinged again. He pulled out the fresh waffle, holding it out to Timothy. "You should eat your breakfast. Do not worry, no one will hurt you." He smiled.

((Ask Hannah, she knows him on dA. I think he goes by Diamand Latias on there.))

Timothy refused to even look at the waffle, face still buried in Sylas' leg. "N-No." It wasn't a refusal, more of a plea not to force him to eat. "I'm n-n-not h-hungry. Don't- D-d-don't let h-him."

((Hurr, I don't want to talk to him if it'll annoy me, haw.))

Sylas blinked and handed the waffle to Quinn, who was waiting for hers. Sylas then reached down and picked up Timothy, hugging him tightly. "There, there. Who is going to do what? I am not able to stop something if I do not know what that something is."

((But you could read his stories and see how strange it is.))

Timothy wrapped his arms around Sylas' neck, sniffling to keep from rubbing snot all over his neck. "It's h-h-him. The-the one in my h-h-head. He h-hurt you!"

((That's okay. xDD))

"He hurt me...?" Sylas blinked. "Werr?" He looked over at Werr.

"I control rocks, not thoughts." Werr said calmly, shaking his head. "Perhaps he's talking about Lotis?"

"...Lotis?" Sylas frowned. "That...would probably make sense...Timothy, do ou know who gets into your head?"

((That and I don't like his style at all.))

Timothy shook his head when Sylas mentioned Werr, but whimpered and squeezed Sylas tighter when Lotis was mentioned. "D-Don't say it! Don't t-t-talk about h-him, he'll h-h-hurt you!"

((Well okay then? xD))

"Okay, okay," Sylas said gently, hugging Timothy still. "We will not talk about him no longer. Would you like a waffle?" He asked, smiling.

((So really I don't like any of his stuff at all. You are much more fun.

Also, Timothy's age is officially moving from ten to seven. Just 'cause he should be younger.))

Timothy nodded, but didn't let go of Sylas. "I'm s-staying right h-h-here, ok-kay? I don't w-w-wanna leave." He looked up at Sylas nervously. "That's okay, r-right?"

((Okay then. This post is long because I'm sort-of introducing another character.))

"Yes, that is fine." Sylas smiled, nodding. He somehow managed to work while holding Timothy, pouring batter on the iron and closing it so it could cook.

Quinn, in the meantime, was flipping through news channels on the television. She stopped on a local news channel. "A string of unusual occurances have been happening throughout the city," The newscaster was saying. "Areas splattered with blood have been found all over the city, although the police report that there are no signs of any corpses." Quinn got up at this point and moved over to the fridge, pouring herself a glass of juice and going back to the television.

"To find us more details, we go live to the scene, with my coanchor, Bryce." The newscaster was saying. "Bryce, what do you have for us?"

"Well, I--" The man didn't even get three words in before the camera apparently fell over. There was a bit of shouting, then quiet again. Quinn watched, confused.

The camera was picked up again and turned around to show the young boy who had apparently knocked the camera over. The cameraman and coanchor were on the ground behind him, clearly unconscious. "Look," The kid said, speaking very quickly. He looked to be about 16 or so, older than Michael. "I'm not sure how many of you are watching this right now, but this is a message to my fellow escapees. It goes something like this; SOS. Why do you want to save me? Because I have an amplifier. Ah, well, to be more specific, I am an amplifier. Half the energy used, thrice the bang, as I put it. Help me out, and we can drive off this murderous Iyoui together, yes? I know it sounds a bit like a pitiful plea, but...yeah, I'm desperate. I--" The broadcast was cut off and the screen went back to the anchor back at the station.

"Uh...well...we apologize for that, uh...technical bug," He stammered.

Quinn muted the TV. "Hey, Michael...?" She said, looking at the boy. "You think he's telling the truth?" The energy used in their attacks was a horribly large amount, and it only got bigger the more attacks they used and the more powerful ones they attacked with. Halving that and increasing the power would be...insane, in truth.

Michael frowned, biting his lip and staring nervously at the television. "I... I'm not sure. It might be worth checking out, though. I mean, if he isn't lying, there's a possibility he'd even be able to help Werr, stop the whole dying at twenty, maybe get an entire ten more years." He turned his head to Werr. "You're the agent here, what'd you think the chances are that that's a trap?"

Once the waffle was cooked, Timothy grabbed it and almost instantly devoured it, clearly having been lying about not being hungry.

((I was just going to bring someone new in... Now it feels all wrong. I think I'm going to do so anyway. He's a doctor who's goal in life is to help people, so it would make sense that he goes to find whoever your new person is.))

((I think that's a wonderful idea. Hurrdeehurr, you see how these things work out? xD

Oh, I forgot to describe him. He was wearing sunglasses and a hoodie on the TV, so yeah.))

Werr thought for a long moment. "I've seen the boy before. He was on my list, but I was told to take him off the 'kill' list. He's at the bottom. That Iyoui and James have my list, you see..." Werr said thoughtfully. He didn't mind the fact that there was a potential extention of his life involved, but he pushed the thought away, not wanting to get emotionally involved. His own opinion was not to affect his calculations. "He's not lying about being an amplifier. He was originally human, but the scientists changed him somehow. He doesn't have any powers of his own, besides a very short disruption wave that's supposed to be able to knock people unconscious. It doesn't work on gifted, though, only humans..."

"So...is it a trap, or not?" Quinn frowned.

"Hm?" Werr blinked. He had been rambling while thinking. "Oh. There's 64-point-five percent chance that we'll be killed or captured. 26 percent chance that it's a trap and James and that Iyoui are using the boy, and nine-point-five percent chance that we'll find the boy, save him, and make it out undetected."

((By the way, my avatar is now my user picture on my computer. If that makes you happy.

This'll be Syl, if you've heard me talk about him, but older. Like, twenty-threeish.))

"Nine-point-five we'll round to ten percent, twenty-five percent that it's James and Lotis isn't actually that scary, 'cause we /way/ out number them. Sixty-four-percent is kind of a problem, but we'd survive. I vote we go, Quinn?" Michael was completely undaunted by the numbers, probably because he knew that Tyler would almost certainly be fine no matter what, as their dad was 'studying' him, and he would survive because James needed someone for extended torture.

((That makes me laugh, actually. I honestly didn't think you'd actually use it. Now I just have to convince Hannah to use hers, and we'll be an awesome, Nichijou-ridden set.

Yay Syl.))

"Uh..." Quinn blinked, somewhat confused. "Okay, yeah. Sure, whatever. It's better than sitting around, I guess."

Werr raised a brow, but said nothing. Sylas, however, smiled. "Should I bring a waffle for this boy that we are saving?"

((Sylvester. He'll be Michael's cousin, unless he shouldn't be. That was my original plan for bringing him in.))

Michael laughed and shook his head. "I don't think waffles will be necessary. If we're going, though, we should go now, before we lose him." He stood up and took Tyler from Werr, placing his younger brother on his back and heading for the door.

((I think that your people are always related. I rarely do that with my own characters, I do it sometimes with others, but rarely amongst my own. It's perfectly fine with me, though, for you to do it. I can't do it, but you can.

Spazziness is for the win.))

"Oh. Okay then," Sylas nodded, looking over at Werr before following Michael. Quinn followed as well, of course. Werr struggled to get up, still getting a lot of pain from his shoulders. He followed, though, not having any issues with his legs, of course.

((Not normally. 'Sides, friendship and relation are often the same kind of relationship.

I've had so many good ideas. I end up forgetting them because I'm all spazzy though.))

Michael exited the house and headed for the city, Tyler on his back.

Timothy walked halfway toward the door, then turned around, waiting for Sylas.

((Hm, I suppose it depends. Close relation is different. My brother does not have the same relation with me that my cousin does. Good ideas = good. Spazzy forgetfulness = bad. I'm sort of spazzy, 'cuz I've been lying around for too long, but I don't forget things. I imagine everything.))

Sylas followed, picking up Timothy and carrying him out the door. Werr brought up the rear, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Quinn was right behind Michael, humming a little tune, wondering how this boy  was changed so drastically. Surgery? Injections? Implants? Maybe even all three...she made a mental note to ask when they found him.