The Catalyst of Release - I (Reintroduction of Character)

[Malachii]

Shadows moved behind the curtains of flesh. A rolling mist slid beneath a diaphanous skin, stretching and dancing inside the liquid, but he couldn't break through. Not yet. Forces beyond his understanding kept him without breath. Without a hope of escape to a world that could delight his senses. Mild acceptance of such a fate began to seed deep within him alongside a disturbed and angry scream wishing to vent against the flow that washed over and attempted to cleanse him.

'So close... '

Muscles tensed as electronic pulses forced tendons to twist and jerk playing out a symphony of cracks and pops as tension was released. Tormented images of decayed promises flavor every thought; tempered into the hardened edges of his cold mind. Rising up from the cloying warmth and memory he controls the will to end it. Straining and pushing against the pressure... 'Enough...'

'Enough!', proclaims the man who tried so often to forget. A man who holds himself down under the waters of his scratched, disgustingly clean bathtub each dawn of every day with his own hands.

Cool air filters down over the hairs of his chest falling inwards with breath, promoting the now easier routine of inhaling air and not liquid. Laughing now reverberates across the tiled room. Shaded images remove themselves from the lowered veil as light focuses pin sharp to reveal reality.

'I hold... myself down at the birth of every new day for what?' he mutters, teeth spraying water heavily upon the carpet beneath the ceramic container. Droplets clung to his body and tickled their way down as he stood in the draining tub. The corners of his mouth twitched in time to a stab of pain, eyes showing confusion briefly before the understanding dawned. Fingers curled instinctively into his palms when the door handle jostled from the outside. His throat contracted dryly in a hard swallow, resignation hanging heavy in his voice. 'What am I to do... when am I to become...'

'Come now sir, how many times must we go over this?' Chirps the entity as it glides through the doorway. 'You'll catch a cold and we can't very well keep you here any longer.' The voice of the automaton lilts, giving the sense that it must have a smile on its emotionless face. Or was it... a sneer? Pride? A string of thoughts rode this realisation, becoming entangled in the pit of his stomach and with what remained of his sanity. The truth of the past whispered into his being, the hidden one, sparking interest by way of past glories and renewed hopes for future challenges. But this reflection is kept dormant – for now.

'I am to leave...' The towel slapped down on the floor as the bathed male dressed himself in a black bodysuit. A man clothed in a grey suit with a crisp blue shirt stood in the doorway, silently extending his hand, offering it to the prisoner. 'Yes, you are,' Data spilled across the screen of the grey suited males computer pad; his eyes squinting through the bright neon lighting to focus on the small collection of information. 'Malachii. The board have marked your file as approved and reformed. We trust you will continue to serve well, serve true and... serve your orders to best of your abilities.'

'Of course.' Enough was said, the exchange was made and the room once again only contained the agent, the ghost, the once ruthless torturer and killer of those who were reported as being innocent. Those same curtains which held away this world for a time closed again. When this happened, something collecting momentum inside ... slowly... smiled.

[Malachii]

Five Years ago prior to the release of Damon 'Malachii' Gabriel.

Patient: Damon Gabriel, former special agent and black operative for Omni-Tek.

The following was received by another patient of the facilities in secret. It by-passed security flags and lay in wait for the recipiant to open to reinitiate topics both patients discussed whilst serving. At the time, the recipiant was classified as 'Low Threshold' and was not in Reform for long.

But long enough.


I fell from a high and lofty place, a time ago.

I shifted to a plane rife with disharmonious, fire scented lives.

Perhaps my eyes have always been naked to these images. My mind collapsing with each convulsive, distorted sound my ears received as these people talked. These entities who flutter in and out of the same doors each passing reset of time.

It all begins again, again.

The joke washes against my being and lifts me to an understanding that embraces this heart like a friend dear to me. Caring for the physical end I promoted, my foundations for the brighter side of the bridge you or anyone else failed to see. Till now.

Can you understand our direction?

You opened my words so these are born from you. So take your first-born seed and develop it amongst life. You will not be sorry nor feel lack of satisfaction from the execution of plans you will bring about in your blinding, divine thoughts.

Trust this of me and our course.

Do not cry... please.
I ask of this: Hold in hand that which you know to be true and make it into your own legacy.

You deserve it, as do any who finally realise where our visit stems from... where it ends. The continual streams of information swirl about us like the extravagant, elegant clothing belonging to the most exquisite of rulers; that beautiful, alluring woman of where your seed must flourish.

Bring your love to this world... friend. Bring it to this woman and let your children strengthen your purpose. Create and develop the bond.

You care much for my own purposes. When the time is right, I will find release. I invest no more time on previous events which could cause much harm to this calm. I seek to inspire you to your own thoughts and destiny, for it is in you I lay my care. My work.

Now, put faith in that you allow me some rest. My shadow will always fall upon you and those who finally begin to realise the truth. May it continually find you and keep you from the harmful light, dearest friend.

I will find you and yours... when I fall again.

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((OOC: So, I'll be looking for volunteers over the next few months to play out a story I have in mind which hopefully will involve Omni-Pol, security forces... general roleplaying public... or anyone wanting to get involved. I do not work to a solid plan as I like my own writing to develop a life of its own and take me by surprise. Needless to write here that I do have a basis and development desires... but I will await to see how it turns out then adapt when need be. For now, I'm looking for a roleplayer to show up to events to start spreading word of a belief system - which I will detail to you when I find the right actor. Initially, I will need the inmate who received this communication, Omni-Pol to eventually detain this one who will attempt to cause a stir and disturbance with his words and eventually on his arrest: a fixer (Who had also served time in Reform and received a similar communication, but this won't be discovered till later I hope)

I will be looking for people to make cultists, another to become the antagonist - a direct student to work of Malachii's.

If the words of this letter touched something in your roleplaying spirit, then you're who I seek. Contact me here, in game or via skype (opusbridge). If you're spotify users I've also worked on a soundtrack of sorts: Here ))