Due to this site not being quite what we needed, there has been a relocation. You can now find updates and other Alpha Squad things -> here <- .
I appreciate your patience and understanding.
Until next we meet (at the new location).
7.04.2011
Excuse me for not having posted for an extended period of time. I've been too occupied to really have time to post, but I feel strongly enough about this particular day that I feel I need to speak, though I hardly have time to.
July 4. Formerly a holiday of independence from the British Empire for the United States. Well, there was an entire war concerning said independence, but all the paperwork was finished on this day. Everything seemed so much better back then, though I'm particularly glad that I was not raised in that era personally. There were no Omegas then, everyone had guns, nearly every non-slave was a racist, and I'm not a big fan of tea. Things would have been problematic. Still, I appreciate the thoughts these people had, in wanting to free their people, their nation.
I'm fairly sure that their sacred document lies in ruins now, destroyed by a tyrannical government dedicated to oppressing its people. Wasn't this exactly what we were trying to escape some two hundred and twenty eight or so years ago?
The values of these people lie in ruins, and it greatly saddens me that I have never met an Omega able to travel through time. Otherwise, I might have a word with these people and find out exactly what they thought, and what they would think of the Great Land today.
Until next we meet.
July 4. Formerly a holiday of independence from the British Empire for the United States. Well, there was an entire war concerning said independence, but all the paperwork was finished on this day. Everything seemed so much better back then, though I'm particularly glad that I was not raised in that era personally. There were no Omegas then, everyone had guns, nearly every non-slave was a racist, and I'm not a big fan of tea. Things would have been problematic. Still, I appreciate the thoughts these people had, in wanting to free their people, their nation.
I'm fairly sure that their sacred document lies in ruins now, destroyed by a tyrannical government dedicated to oppressing its people. Wasn't this exactly what we were trying to escape some two hundred and twenty eight or so years ago?
The values of these people lie in ruins, and it greatly saddens me that I have never met an Omega able to travel through time. Otherwise, I might have a word with these people and find out exactly what they thought, and what they would think of the Great Land today.
Until next we meet.
6.20.2011
History, Part 4: A Bright Hero, Shining
Going straight back into my story today.
For some time after Fritz was killed, I became withdrawn and bitter. I was not allowed out of the padded room, and I ate very little. Most of my time was spent curled up in the corner or pounding on the door. After I calmed down, I was put in another room- unpadded, but still a blistering white. They made several attempts to drug me and to erase my memories, but Lorraine counteracted all of these and brought me my savior.
They always say good things come in small packages, and never has this been more true for me than with Jack. He is significantly shorter and thinner than me, and yet he could bring me to my knees easily. He saved me from myself and made me whole again, healing my heart after what happened with Fritz. It was because of him that I was eventually released from my prison, and because of him that I'm still alive today.
He's a Light Omega, and so all of his powers are light-based. While he can perform some offensive maneuvers, he's mostly based in healing and defense. That's fine by me. I've got enough attack for three people. Where Lorraine and I are opposites, Jack and I are moderately similar. We have differences, of course, but it isn't quite the extreme it is with Lorraine. I appreciate this, and I feel like it makes us more compatible.
He's a brilliant artist and a very warm, caring person. He was one of my very first followers, and the only one I really liked in particular. He has always been generous while I was selfish and humble while I was arrogant, and is always ready to console or help me if something happens. I don't think I'll ever understand why he likes me so much, but I'm not complaining.
I realize this entry is short, but so much of our relationship is based on emotion, which I feel I wouldn't be doing justice by breaking it down into words and trying to analyze and explain it.
Until next we meet.
For some time after Fritz was killed, I became withdrawn and bitter. I was not allowed out of the padded room, and I ate very little. Most of my time was spent curled up in the corner or pounding on the door. After I calmed down, I was put in another room- unpadded, but still a blistering white. They made several attempts to drug me and to erase my memories, but Lorraine counteracted all of these and brought me my savior.
They always say good things come in small packages, and never has this been more true for me than with Jack. He is significantly shorter and thinner than me, and yet he could bring me to my knees easily. He saved me from myself and made me whole again, healing my heart after what happened with Fritz. It was because of him that I was eventually released from my prison, and because of him that I'm still alive today.
He's a Light Omega, and so all of his powers are light-based. While he can perform some offensive maneuvers, he's mostly based in healing and defense. That's fine by me. I've got enough attack for three people. Where Lorraine and I are opposites, Jack and I are moderately similar. We have differences, of course, but it isn't quite the extreme it is with Lorraine. I appreciate this, and I feel like it makes us more compatible.
He's a brilliant artist and a very warm, caring person. He was one of my very first followers, and the only one I really liked in particular. He has always been generous while I was selfish and humble while I was arrogant, and is always ready to console or help me if something happens. I don't think I'll ever understand why he likes me so much, but I'm not complaining.
I realize this entry is short, but so much of our relationship is based on emotion, which I feel I wouldn't be doing justice by breaking it down into words and trying to analyze and explain it.
Until next we meet.
6.18.2011
History, Part 3: What Do We Want? Someone Worth Fighting For
I've decided that today was the day to talk about Fritz. It seems appropriate somehow. So, to continue with my story. My memory of the day we met is nearly perfect.
When I woke, I was not in the hospital wing, but a small room outside of it. This unfamiliarity startled me, as did the sudden touch I felt on my wound. I sat up as quickly as possible and demanded to know what was going on.
Sitting in front of me was someone that in appearance alone surpassed everyone I'd ever been attracted to before in my life. His bright red eyes seemed concerned, boring into me with an unspeakable intensity. His jet-black hair was spiky and haphazard, and while not malnourished or emaciated, he was still rather gaunt. His mere presence both calmed and excited me, and he hadn't even said a word yet. I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly, but I knew that'd be improper and probably entirely weird, especially if he liked girls.
He put up his hands as a gesture that he wasn't going to hurt me. He was my new healer, as he explained. His voice was light, flighty, and gentle, like he didn't want to hurt my ears by speaking too deeply or loudly. I tried to breathe, but found a soft panic growing in my chest. Before I knew it, I was spilling everything to him- that I was an Omega, that I was six feet four inches and slightly underweight because as of late I'd been forgetting to eat sometimes, and even that I thought I felt something for him. He took it all surprisingly well with just a smile. He told me we'd have more time to get to know each other better later, and for that day, he was gone.
For the next few months, I saw him every day and would talk to him about my problems. Day by day, I fell harder and harder for him, and he opened up to me. He started to tell me about some of his philosophies, and they made so much sense to me. I didn't understand why Omegas weren't being treated fairly, nor had I seen it before he brought it up. But everything became so clear. I had been raised to believe they were faultless, and here they were, with faults. It was a bit shocking, but I appreciated that he had showed me the truth.
Eventually, inevitably, one of these thoughts slipped from my tongue as a retort which ended up being a full-blown rant. Though it was my fault, Fritz took all responsibility for it. He was taken out behind the buildings with me, and I had to watch them shoot him in the head. I was offered the chance to do it myself, but I declined. I didn't fully understand what was happening, because up until that point, death had been an extremely vague concept that I hadn't comprehended. I declined more out of my dislike for guns than personal attachment.
In a second everything made sense. His lifeless body fell to the ground right before my feet. I couldn't stop shaking. I managed to get some of the precious red life onto a glass slide, so I could keep him with me, before everything went dark and I woke up in one of the padded rooms where they keep the mentally unstable.
I later discovered that had he been human, he would not have been killed.
This was where I got all my ideas for the rebellion, and really this entire thing has been a vow for revenge. Because Fritz was killed unjustly, and it filled me with such a consuming hatred that I had to do something about it. The rest of this story, however, I suppose is best saved for another time.
Until next we meet.
When I woke, I was not in the hospital wing, but a small room outside of it. This unfamiliarity startled me, as did the sudden touch I felt on my wound. I sat up as quickly as possible and demanded to know what was going on.
Sitting in front of me was someone that in appearance alone surpassed everyone I'd ever been attracted to before in my life. His bright red eyes seemed concerned, boring into me with an unspeakable intensity. His jet-black hair was spiky and haphazard, and while not malnourished or emaciated, he was still rather gaunt. His mere presence both calmed and excited me, and he hadn't even said a word yet. I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly, but I knew that'd be improper and probably entirely weird, especially if he liked girls.
He put up his hands as a gesture that he wasn't going to hurt me. He was my new healer, as he explained. His voice was light, flighty, and gentle, like he didn't want to hurt my ears by speaking too deeply or loudly. I tried to breathe, but found a soft panic growing in my chest. Before I knew it, I was spilling everything to him- that I was an Omega, that I was six feet four inches and slightly underweight because as of late I'd been forgetting to eat sometimes, and even that I thought I felt something for him. He took it all surprisingly well with just a smile. He told me we'd have more time to get to know each other better later, and for that day, he was gone.
For the next few months, I saw him every day and would talk to him about my problems. Day by day, I fell harder and harder for him, and he opened up to me. He started to tell me about some of his philosophies, and they made so much sense to me. I didn't understand why Omegas weren't being treated fairly, nor had I seen it before he brought it up. But everything became so clear. I had been raised to believe they were faultless, and here they were, with faults. It was a bit shocking, but I appreciated that he had showed me the truth.
Eventually, inevitably, one of these thoughts slipped from my tongue as a retort which ended up being a full-blown rant. Though it was my fault, Fritz took all responsibility for it. He was taken out behind the buildings with me, and I had to watch them shoot him in the head. I was offered the chance to do it myself, but I declined. I didn't fully understand what was happening, because up until that point, death had been an extremely vague concept that I hadn't comprehended. I declined more out of my dislike for guns than personal attachment.
In a second everything made sense. His lifeless body fell to the ground right before my feet. I couldn't stop shaking. I managed to get some of the precious red life onto a glass slide, so I could keep him with me, before everything went dark and I woke up in one of the padded rooms where they keep the mentally unstable.
I later discovered that had he been human, he would not have been killed.
This was where I got all my ideas for the rebellion, and really this entire thing has been a vow for revenge. Because Fritz was killed unjustly, and it filled me with such a consuming hatred that I had to do something about it. The rest of this story, however, I suppose is best saved for another time.
Until next we meet.
6.16.2011
History, Part 2: BFF Doesn't Begin To Cover It
I was never a popular child in my youngest days. My powers developed early, early enough for me to have a good handle on my exceptionally versatile powers while some were only surfacing. This made me sort of an outcast. While others had no powers to speak of yet, I was changing in new and unexpected ways straight off the bat. Then later when everyone was talking about the latest development in what they could do, I was already done with that portion of my growing and was instead struggling with my several growth spurts.
The one person who stuck with me through everything, even before I had powers, was Lorraine. We didn't have any particularly inspiring tales of how we became friends, like she was being picked on and I stood up for her or vice versa. We just gravitated toward each other. I went up to her one day as a child, introduced myself, and we never really separated after that. Well, save for the part where we were separated by gender for a few years, but even that didn't keep us apart a whole lot. We still talked constantly.
We get along splendidly, and even though we're polar opposites in nearly every way, we can somehow still stand each other. I've always found it to be a strange phenomenon, but I'm thankful for it nonetheless. I need her stability a lot to keep myself from going overboard, and I feel like she needs someone a bit more... "overdone," as she would say, if only to keep her sane and give her a decent sense of humor.
I'd really be nowhere without her, whether she knows it or not. My life can get extremely crazy sometimes, and she's always been there to be a shoulder to lean on for me. If I had to love a girl, there's no doubt it would be her. She has faults, and I acknowledge them, but I don't feel like they're great enough to keep her from being an amazing friend. And I guess she doesn't feel mine are, either.
I suppose this was less history and more emotion and opinion, but that's fine. I don't feel like details are as important when it comes to our friendship as it is to get the idea of the thing.
Until next we meet.
The one person who stuck with me through everything, even before I had powers, was Lorraine. We didn't have any particularly inspiring tales of how we became friends, like she was being picked on and I stood up for her or vice versa. We just gravitated toward each other. I went up to her one day as a child, introduced myself, and we never really separated after that. Well, save for the part where we were separated by gender for a few years, but even that didn't keep us apart a whole lot. We still talked constantly.
We get along splendidly, and even though we're polar opposites in nearly every way, we can somehow still stand each other. I've always found it to be a strange phenomenon, but I'm thankful for it nonetheless. I need her stability a lot to keep myself from going overboard, and I feel like she needs someone a bit more... "overdone," as she would say, if only to keep her sane and give her a decent sense of humor.
I'd really be nowhere without her, whether she knows it or not. My life can get extremely crazy sometimes, and she's always been there to be a shoulder to lean on for me. If I had to love a girl, there's no doubt it would be her. She has faults, and I acknowledge them, but I don't feel like they're great enough to keep her from being an amazing friend. And I guess she doesn't feel mine are, either.
I suppose this was less history and more emotion and opinion, but that's fine. I don't feel like details are as important when it comes to our friendship as it is to get the idea of the thing.
Until next we meet.
6.14.2011
History, Part 1: On Being Different, In Relation To Sexuality
There are some days when I feel like a teenager again, awkward and uncomfortable with my identity. Today was one of those days.
I've struggled with one of my... problems since I was about thirteen. It was around that time that I realized that while other guys felt attraction and even arousal toward girls, I had a perfectly fine best friend of the gender and felt absolutely nothing romantic about her. I figured if I was going to love someone, it would be her, since she knew me best and I enjoyed her company much more than any other female I'd ever met. But there was no spark there. There was nothing to incite the quickened heartbeat others experienced, and while I've never considered Lorraine ugly in any way shape or form, I didn't find her particularly breathtaking in appearance. I didn't find any girl to be that way. I didn't feel as though I loved anyone.
Now, granted, at the time I did find one of the instructors and a few of my colleagues to be quite attractive, but I wasn't informed about sexuality at all. I didn't know I was one of the few that felt this way, I just knew that the other guys thought girls were attractive and I didn't. I didn't know a thing about how they felt about other males. I thought maybe it was just something you didn't talk about in public or something.
When I was fifteen we received education on sexuality. Well, I suppose I should clarify. We were informed of heterosexuality, and why a boy and a girl fall in love, and where their parts go, and to be frank I was a little awkward about the entire ordeal. I was horribly confused about everything, and for a time I considered asking a girl to... "perform" in order to understand what the big deal was. But every time I was going to, the very thought of asking some girl I hardly knew to perform an apparently intimate act, one usually indicative of affection, made me recoil in disgust.
A few months later I was quite shocked to find that the feelings I had previously been talking about were taking up residence in my heart, but not toward girls. I was starting to stutter and my hands would get cold and my heart would race, but only while around certain people of my own gender. This was an extremely confusing time for me as I wondered what the heck was going on and why I wasn't feeling the same way as everyone else. I disclosed these feelings to Lorraine, who merely shrugged and told me I was different, that it wasn't something I should worry about. I took her advice and pushed the anxiety concerning it out of my mind for a while.
Early in my seventeenth year, around November, we were informed of the "other" side. Of the people who didn't love anyone of the opposite gender. Those geared toward their own. They stated it was an "abnormality" and referred to it with a technical coldness I'd never seen while referring to such a warm emotion before. One of the people in my class stood (looking back on it, quite bravely) and admitted that he was, in fact, not heterosexual. For a moment, I felt like I wasn't alone anymore.
Within seconds, the entire class erupted into jeers and name-calling. The boy was put into therapy to "rid" him of the "disease," which I suppose failed as I never saw him again. He may have killed himself, considering their treatment toward us, but I don't really know what happened to him.
During almost my entire time being seventeen I kept my emotions totally under wraps, trying my hardest to appear "asexual," as they had described at one point, without affection or desire for anyone. Even this was more acceptable than loving one of your own, but some still seemed to know. Or maybe they just assumed so because I didn't want to sleep with them, even though they looked atrocious. Like they'd taken their makeup case and just thrown their head into it recklessly, then walked out for all the world to see. Not to mention the complete lack of decency in clothing.
When I was nearly eighteen the emotional and sexual tension that I'd been holding in started to overwhelm me and break me down completely, making me unstable and tense. I was in a sparring match one day, and as I was much better at it than most of the other students (and I was terrible at using weapons), I was being shot at. I hate guns. I've always hated guns. So crude. Pointless. If you have powers, why not use them? Why take something that isn't a part of you, something you likely have never trained with, and attempt to kill someone with it? It's never made sense to me. Anyway, I was off my game that day due to the fact that one of my "attackers" was particularly attractive and I was putting most of my effort into holding in my affections. During my time distracted, I was shot in the leg and fell unconscious.
I was hospitalized for a time, during which Lorraine had apparently disclosed that I needed someone to monitor my mental health as well. As a healer, I was given Fritz.
That was the first time I ever really experienced being in love.
I would continue but I'm quite tired of writing for now. I suppose Fritz is a tale for another time.
Until next we meet.
I've struggled with one of my... problems since I was about thirteen. It was around that time that I realized that while other guys felt attraction and even arousal toward girls, I had a perfectly fine best friend of the gender and felt absolutely nothing romantic about her. I figured if I was going to love someone, it would be her, since she knew me best and I enjoyed her company much more than any other female I'd ever met. But there was no spark there. There was nothing to incite the quickened heartbeat others experienced, and while I've never considered Lorraine ugly in any way shape or form, I didn't find her particularly breathtaking in appearance. I didn't find any girl to be that way. I didn't feel as though I loved anyone.
Now, granted, at the time I did find one of the instructors and a few of my colleagues to be quite attractive, but I wasn't informed about sexuality at all. I didn't know I was one of the few that felt this way, I just knew that the other guys thought girls were attractive and I didn't. I didn't know a thing about how they felt about other males. I thought maybe it was just something you didn't talk about in public or something.
When I was fifteen we received education on sexuality. Well, I suppose I should clarify. We were informed of heterosexuality, and why a boy and a girl fall in love, and where their parts go, and to be frank I was a little awkward about the entire ordeal. I was horribly confused about everything, and for a time I considered asking a girl to... "perform" in order to understand what the big deal was. But every time I was going to, the very thought of asking some girl I hardly knew to perform an apparently intimate act, one usually indicative of affection, made me recoil in disgust.
A few months later I was quite shocked to find that the feelings I had previously been talking about were taking up residence in my heart, but not toward girls. I was starting to stutter and my hands would get cold and my heart would race, but only while around certain people of my own gender. This was an extremely confusing time for me as I wondered what the heck was going on and why I wasn't feeling the same way as everyone else. I disclosed these feelings to Lorraine, who merely shrugged and told me I was different, that it wasn't something I should worry about. I took her advice and pushed the anxiety concerning it out of my mind for a while.
Early in my seventeenth year, around November, we were informed of the "other" side. Of the people who didn't love anyone of the opposite gender. Those geared toward their own. They stated it was an "abnormality" and referred to it with a technical coldness I'd never seen while referring to such a warm emotion before. One of the people in my class stood (looking back on it, quite bravely) and admitted that he was, in fact, not heterosexual. For a moment, I felt like I wasn't alone anymore.
Within seconds, the entire class erupted into jeers and name-calling. The boy was put into therapy to "rid" him of the "disease," which I suppose failed as I never saw him again. He may have killed himself, considering their treatment toward us, but I don't really know what happened to him.
During almost my entire time being seventeen I kept my emotions totally under wraps, trying my hardest to appear "asexual," as they had described at one point, without affection or desire for anyone. Even this was more acceptable than loving one of your own, but some still seemed to know. Or maybe they just assumed so because I didn't want to sleep with them, even though they looked atrocious. Like they'd taken their makeup case and just thrown their head into it recklessly, then walked out for all the world to see. Not to mention the complete lack of decency in clothing.
When I was nearly eighteen the emotional and sexual tension that I'd been holding in started to overwhelm me and break me down completely, making me unstable and tense. I was in a sparring match one day, and as I was much better at it than most of the other students (and I was terrible at using weapons), I was being shot at. I hate guns. I've always hated guns. So crude. Pointless. If you have powers, why not use them? Why take something that isn't a part of you, something you likely have never trained with, and attempt to kill someone with it? It's never made sense to me. Anyway, I was off my game that day due to the fact that one of my "attackers" was particularly attractive and I was putting most of my effort into holding in my affections. During my time distracted, I was shot in the leg and fell unconscious.
I was hospitalized for a time, during which Lorraine had apparently disclosed that I needed someone to monitor my mental health as well. As a healer, I was given Fritz.
That was the first time I ever really experienced being in love.
I would continue but I'm quite tired of writing for now. I suppose Fritz is a tale for another time.
Until next we meet.
6.12.2011
D:
I'm finally starting to get better, but I still have a giant headache. I'm not sure how I feel about all this.
Lorraine told me I had to keep you updated so here I am, keeping you updated. Maybe you'll get a useful update soon, I don't know. I'm going back to sleep.
Lorraine told me I had to keep you updated so here I am, keeping you updated. Maybe you'll get a useful update soon, I don't know. I'm going back to sleep.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)