<sub><em>Name:</em> Oriēns Fātum<br/><em>Experiment Number:</em> 44<br/><em>Age:</em> 22<br/><em>Date of Birth:</em> August 11th<br/><em>Gender:</em> Male<br/><em>Sexuality:</em> Bisexual<br/><em>Ability:</em> Intangible a/o phase shift<br/><br/><em>Appearance:</em> Not overly tall or broad, Oriēns shows no visible signs of intimidating power. He stands somewhere under 6'0, with a lean build and pale skin, but not abnormally so. His hair is a natural blonde girls wish to achieve, though wild and unkempt like he hasn't bothered to brush or cut it, and his eyes are a steely grey, his gaze cutting razor sharp without giving anything away. He's conventionally attractive, having a sort of "i smoke on street corners and sell drugs as a side hustle, your parents won't like me and ill manipulate you into being obsessed with me" look. Along with numerous scars mutilating different parts of his body, arms, back, a faint albeit thick white line at the base of his neck, tattoos are painted into his skin, amongst them a compass pointing prominently east on the side of his neck, and a sleeve covering his left arm of various things tying in to a bigger picture of everything that lead him to the place he's in today.<br/><br/><em>Personality:</em> Oriēns has always had a preference for flying under the radar. Being the center of attention isn't his role, he's not forthcoming, a standoffish sort, especially to strangers, as well as anyone he doesn't like in general. Which is most everyone. He's quiet on purpose, though his tongue is sly to distort the truth without blatantly lying, and to be deceitful when necessary, when truth be told he prefers upfront honesty to secrecy. He's just extremely guarded, rare to open up a softer side to anyone. His alignment can be classified as amoral, with an extremely grey sense of morality, if he has one or any concern for one at all. His outlook is realistic, but if you stay in his company long enough, you might pick up on his dry humor, or even the eventual strong sense of loyalty he develops to the things that stick around, even reluctantly. <br/><br/><em>Life History:</em> There's prominent images in his mind, trail markers, flashes of his tortured childhood, every second of it painful. Wishes of knowing his family more than the little he got to experience, his mother Casia, his older brother Dux, Dux who was a few years older than Oriēns, able to live a normal childhood, as he wasn't the promised son. Casia who wept as the government took her hours old newborn from his mother's arms, still weak in the bed she gave birth to him in. Oriēns was the second son his disgraced soldier father promised the government in exchange for pardon. Whatever crimes his sire committed, he hoped they were worth creating the weapon he was turned into. Years of experiments and trials, of getting trapped on another plane as a child, where time was frozen and he was alone for ages when no time truly passed at all. Solitude is a hell of a trauma. Unfortunately for him, he was a survivor, one of the few to shoulder the burden of being a successful experiment. Eventually with the reveal and shut down of the program, Oriēns was returned to his family, where he fell in love with his mother, and even begrudgingly learned to love his big brother too, even with resentment lighting a fire in his blood from time to time. He was 18 when he could no longer live in the shadow of the government, constantly under surveillance, suffocated under their watch. So he did the logical thing, and disappeared. The revolution welcomed him with open arms when he found them a few years later, his abilities an extremely useful asset. Living amongst fellow revolutionaries, honing his talents and aiding their cause. <br/><br/>(https://i.imgur.com/hxXwbhG.jpg)<br/><br/><em>Introduction:</em><br/>A smoldering star always set in the west, and as always Oriēns found himself in unfamiliar territory at dusk. Though it was easier for him to find himself somewhere unfamiliar than in a place he was comfortable in. No home existed for something that was considered a ghost. <br/><br/>Ghosts didn't belong, didn't have a safe haven to return to when all was said and done, could only wander to haunt the living. <br/><br/>This ghost was currently haunting the streets of another hope sapped city, keeping his head down with the hood of his off grey sweatshirt pulled over his head. Anyone who wandered the street past curfew was asking for trouble, so the only one left when night fell was Oriēns.<br/><br/>Belligerent chatter. <br/><br/>Scratch that, Oriēns and unknown company. <br/><br/>This area was upper class, for all that was worth in this day and age. Everything said "I live here," rather than appearing to be past tense. Live, not lived. Things were taken care of, homes in a state of livable care. There was a garden that was recovering from the past winter, spring bringing new life with the help of human hands. <br/><br/>Distraction— Voices again, footsteps that weren't stumbling shambles, this was running pursuit. <br/><br/>This was enough to peak his interest.<br/><br/>Oriēns pursued the pursuers, quiet as a mouse, following the commotion caused by the patrol. He had to increase his gait to get anywhere, somehow less lost in chasing whatever prey they were in pursuit of than the drunk officers, as he piece by piece figured out there was some reason they were chasing this girl, and another reason why she was giving them a chase. <br/><br/>Through the maze of alley's between buildings, Oriēns picked off the patrol silently, and with less time than a minute passing had them incapacitated. Weaving in and out of a place no one could see with a blind eye, but Oriēns possessed the ability to feel it there, constantly on the edge of his subconscious, able to step into that place consciously when he chose to do so, he knocked each of the officers unconscious one by one, startlingly quick. Although at this point he'd assaulted authorities with no provocation towards him, basically on a whim of mild intrigue. <br/><br/>"Psst, girlie?" He stage whispered into the dark of the alley when it was just him, unsure how to come off non threatening, but thinking it the better option than taking her by surprise.</sub>