sericourix
New member
- Joined
- Oct 10, 2024
- Messages
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- Reaction score
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- Points
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Name: sericourix [last name WIP]
Age: 17 years, 2 months, 24 days
Character intro story
His head roared, the chilling cold. The dark abyss surrounding him, what it just his thoughts or was he really here? His mind rushed with thoughts. Memories blazing in and out of his head, people surrounding him. They wore blue, their faces gone, what was happening? He knew something was wrong but it got worse, he heard screaming, desperate yelling and pleas for help. The noise muffled, he felt an overwhelming sense of connection but he was unsure why. He twisted his head back and forth, memorising the cage. No it wasn't a cage, it was an elevator. He felt the floor rising beneath his feet. His eyes locked onto the chains lifting him up. The scream still replaying in his mind over and over again. The grinding gears overwhelmed by the screaming. He looked across the elevator, he noticed supplies, he spotted a variety of items he could strap together in case he needed it. He plunged his hands into the supplies scraping up anything useful. He grabbed a pair of running shoes and slipped them onto his feet. He ripped the laces of the shoes he had been wearing off. He snatched up a small pickaxe that would suffice as a weapon. He grabbed a small stone and a jagged piece of rock, he scraped the rock against the stone as fast as he could. His efforts deemed successful as he stared at the sharpened rock. He knotted the pickaxe and the rock together using the lace. He tightened it as much as he could. He felt a red light shine onto his face, he stared up into the light.
A short burst of memories rushed through his head once again, as he watched them play through his mind he saw the same result of blurred faces and muffled speaking. It ended with a name, it was his name. Sericourix, that was his name it had to be. He rummaged through the supplies one last time. He found a small pile of wood and a note. It read the simple words "WICKED is good". Who were WICKED? Why did they have to send this note up? All his thoughts were halted be the elevator stopping. A shimmer of light glistened across his face, a light he had not seen for the last thirty minutes. It was the sky. He snatched his weapon back up and slid back into a corner. His blade shimmered in the light, the light seemed like it was fading from within his grasp. It was late afternoon, it must have been. His head swivelled to face the people that awaited him outside of the elevator. Where was he? Who were these people? New questions rampaged through his mind, consuming his thoughts. "How'ya greenbean", one chuckled, he seemed familiar but he did not know why. He watched the others walk towars him, in response he lifted his weapon higher. "Who are you people and why am I here?" he screamed with a heavy texan accent. His eyes shot past the people, latching onto a wall, no it wasn't a wall, it was something else. It loomed over the expanse of grass at around 200-300 feet from what he could tell. Something in his gut told him there was something very wrong about all this…and it wasn’t regarding the people in front of him, but whoever these WCKD people are that, from what limited memories he has, are the reason he’s here.
Backstory created by jack null from MRP discord, lots of thanks to him
Age: 17 years, 2 months, 24 days
Character intro story
His head roared, the chilling cold. The dark abyss surrounding him, what it just his thoughts or was he really here? His mind rushed with thoughts. Memories blazing in and out of his head, people surrounding him. They wore blue, their faces gone, what was happening? He knew something was wrong but it got worse, he heard screaming, desperate yelling and pleas for help. The noise muffled, he felt an overwhelming sense of connection but he was unsure why. He twisted his head back and forth, memorising the cage. No it wasn't a cage, it was an elevator. He felt the floor rising beneath his feet. His eyes locked onto the chains lifting him up. The scream still replaying in his mind over and over again. The grinding gears overwhelmed by the screaming. He looked across the elevator, he noticed supplies, he spotted a variety of items he could strap together in case he needed it. He plunged his hands into the supplies scraping up anything useful. He grabbed a pair of running shoes and slipped them onto his feet. He ripped the laces of the shoes he had been wearing off. He snatched up a small pickaxe that would suffice as a weapon. He grabbed a small stone and a jagged piece of rock, he scraped the rock against the stone as fast as he could. His efforts deemed successful as he stared at the sharpened rock. He knotted the pickaxe and the rock together using the lace. He tightened it as much as he could. He felt a red light shine onto his face, he stared up into the light.
A short burst of memories rushed through his head once again, as he watched them play through his mind he saw the same result of blurred faces and muffled speaking. It ended with a name, it was his name. Sericourix, that was his name it had to be. He rummaged through the supplies one last time. He found a small pile of wood and a note. It read the simple words "WICKED is good". Who were WICKED? Why did they have to send this note up? All his thoughts were halted be the elevator stopping. A shimmer of light glistened across his face, a light he had not seen for the last thirty minutes. It was the sky. He snatched his weapon back up and slid back into a corner. His blade shimmered in the light, the light seemed like it was fading from within his grasp. It was late afternoon, it must have been. His head swivelled to face the people that awaited him outside of the elevator. Where was he? Who were these people? New questions rampaged through his mind, consuming his thoughts. "How'ya greenbean", one chuckled, he seemed familiar but he did not know why. He watched the others walk towars him, in response he lifted his weapon higher. "Who are you people and why am I here?" he screamed with a heavy texan accent. His eyes shot past the people, latching onto a wall, no it wasn't a wall, it was something else. It loomed over the expanse of grass at around 200-300 feet from what he could tell. Something in his gut told him there was something very wrong about all this…and it wasn’t regarding the people in front of him, but whoever these WCKD people are that, from what limited memories he has, are the reason he’s here.
Backstory created by jack null from MRP discord, lots of thanks to him
