so I'm just really bad at the oc chats lol so I miss a lot of peoples' characters, so just pick one of your fave ocs and tell me all about them! ♥
no it’s ok! it’s mostly just me and kowo talking about jable angst ddkfjdskjf
Hmm ig i should formally introduce Fable here bc i haven’t done that yet and he seems to be the one that people think of when they think of me
He woke up one day inside of a coffin with no memory of his previous life and shoved himself out, he didn’t know it then, but he has telekinesis. The way that the world works is, sometimes when someone dies, they have the potential to be resurrected within a few days. If they are, they get an ability that can alter the world around them, as opposed to if someone witnesses a death. If that happens they sometimes could get an ability to see or read something, like going into other people’s dreams without being able to change them.
Ok anyways, Fable has telekinesis, and he gets out of the coffin, but there’s a lab/facility thing that specifically tests people like him, so he gets captured before he could read the grave. He’s in the lab for a little while, and gets tests done on him(that are really more like torture than actual experiments but shhhh the whump potential)
So he escapes(and kills a few people in the process oops) and pretty much spends his life on the run from them. He doesn’t really have a secure place to live and pretty much just lives in hotels and cars.
Honestly the lab doesn’t really care that much about getting him back, there’s enough of people like him that they could just replace him. but Fable does Not want it to happen again so he kind of blows every slight threat out of proportion and then just packs up and leaves. He also finds it easier to talk to people that way, bc if something goes wrong he can just leave.
He has a dog! Her name is Sadie and she’s a german shepherd. She’s heccing chaotic and loves stealing his shoes :>
ofc my arson-obsessed ass will ask for burns,, do burns blease ehehe
Here you go!
Wing: B
Room: 22
Ability: Telekinesis
Day of Death: June 12
Comments: Needs suppressants. Cannot control his power without them.
The shiny, laminated piece of paper that was clipped to the clipboard blew to the side as the door swung open. The assistant stepped into the room, shoes clacking on the tile floor, and immediately checked to see that the boy was still in there. He was.
Fable curled up in a corner, knees to his chest, hands in his hair. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave this room, because as deafening as the silence was, it was better than the endless needles and drugs and pain and dread that there was no end to, because there was never an end, even when they let him go back to the room, they would always drag him out the next day.
There was no point in fighting anymore. Not that Fable had anything to go back to. He couldn’t even remember his past life, so how did he know that this was worse? For all he knew, his past self could have begged for this.
There was no more time to think. The assistant roughly grabbed his elbow, yanking him off the ground. The sudden change in height made Fable’s head spin, and he staggered against the wall, knees almost buckling under him. The assistant merely sighed and tugged harder on his arm, leaving Fable to try and keep up.
The assistant didn’t talk to him. They never did. Fable should have gotten used to it by now, but the need for someone else to see him, to know he existed never really went away.
He sure as hell knew he wasn’t a ghost. Ghosts couldn’t be hurt by solid things. And everything that they did made him hurt for a few weeks at best. He had no idea what it was until it happened, no way to prepare himself.
This time, he was unceremoniously thrown into a room much like any other: white tile everywhere. It wasn’t the rooms themselves that scared him, although they certainly didn’t help. It was what was inside of them that really mattered. And Fable had no idea what was going to happen that day until someone started the experiment.
The assistant stepped outside of the room, brown hair billowing around her face. Fable saw her slip behind a window and mark something down on a piece of paper.
“Burn resiliency. Test 1. Begin.” The assistant’s voice carried through the glass, and Fable felt ice-cold fear run through him. He threw himself at the door, but it was locked. Not that he had expected anything different, but there had been a chance that he wouldn’t have to be hurt. Now there was nowhere to go.
He was trapped.
Outside, the assistant pressed a button, and the room began heating up. At first it was comfortably warm compared to the hallways, but Fable knew it wouldn’t stop there. The assistants eyes bored into him, observing his every move. Fable shoved himself against the door again, but it was hotter than the middle of the room, and he pulled his arm back with a hiss. It was already turning red from the heat. He didn’t know why he was trying to get away. By now, he would have thought he would have known better, but apparently not. The door seemed even hotter this time, singing his skin through his clothes. He rushed into the middle of the room again, heart pounding and breathing coming in ragged gasps. The air was stifling, too hot, and then he couldn’t breathe.
The air itself was burning his skin now, and Fable couldn’t stop wordless sounds of pain from slipping out as the assistant watched from her window, cold and unfeeling. It hurt, so much more than any of the needles or the drugs or the splitting headache that came with overusing his power. He looked down at himself, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Blisters had formed on his skin, raw and painful. And he couldn’t escape.
The door stayed firmly shut, even until Fable had screamed his throat raw, even after his skin felt like it was melting off of him.
When he blinked bleary eyes open, he was back in room B22, completely alone.
18. Have they ever been in a romantic relationship?
The closest that Fable’s ever been is in an rp with @just-strawberry-jam, with her boy Jason, but that technically hasn’t happened yet in rp canon, so... no? i guess??
24. Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play?
Fable learns piano in his free time! He’s not very good because he doesn’t really have much free time, or access to pianos on a regular basis, but it’s fun for him *shrugs*
Fable didn’t even like dogs that much. They were loud, and their hair shedded everywhere, and they slobbered over everything. And besides, he couldn’t have a dog. He could barely take care of himself, let alone another animal. He was sure that a life spent half in a car and half in various hotel rooms was no life for a dog.
Those were the reasons he told himself, anyway, when he came across what looked to be a stray German Shepherd. They crossed paths one day, and Fable thought nothing of it, simply just walking past on his way to the store. But the next day it happened again, and this time the dog was holding a shoe in its mouth, followed by an increasingly annoyed woman.
As Fable walked past, the dog almost crashed into him, veering at the last moment. The owner of the shoe finally threw her hands up. “Get back here, you little mutt! And give me my shoe back!” The dog did not listen, its tongue lolling out around the shoe. “It yours?” The woman turned to Fable, watching the dog in exasperation as it ran circles around them.
“No,” Fable muttered. “Sorry about your, uh, shoe.”
“It’s okay,” the woman replied automatically with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s just that this stupid dog keeps ripping up things of mine. I should be able to leave things outside without them getting torn to pieces!” Her voice rising in pitch, she cut herself off before she got too angry. “I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated.”
Fable smiled a little. “That’s very understandable, ma’am.” He knelt down in front of the dog, who jumped away from him, tail whipping from side to side.
“Are you gonna… give that back?” Feeling vaguely embarrassed that he was talking to a dog, Fable straightened back up. The dog jumped forward again, shaking the shoe in its mouth. The woman sighed. “I have other shoes.” She shook her finger at the dog. “You little bastard!” The dog stepped back in earnest this time, tail still and lowered, ears slightly back. The woman pretended to not see its reaction and adjusted her coat. “Apologies for taking up your time. See you around.” At Fable’s nod, she hurried off, leaving him alone with the dog.
He looked around. In the now-deserted back street, they were alone. Fable knelt down next to the dog for the second time, putting his palm out flat in front of him. Not a threat. “Hey bud. What’re you doing here?” The dog leaned forward and sniffed his fingers tentatively. Fable didn’t move a muscle in his arm, but he did smile slightly when the dog’s wet nose touched his hand. “You gonna put down that shoe? It’s… uh, not exactly much of a shoe anymore.” He kept his voice gentle, partly if anyone walked past they wouldn’t see him talking to an animal, and partly to just calm the dog down. It leaned back on its haunches apprehensively, looking away when a car honked in the distance. “I’ll cut you a deal,” Fable tried again. “Give me the shoe, and I’ll get you some food or something. Okay?” The dog did glance up at him for a second then, but made no move to drop what it had earned. Fable slid his hand forward, slowly, gently, and touched the soft fur on the dog’s cheek. “How does that sound? You gonna drop it for me?” The dog didn’t move back or snap at him, so Fable assumed it was okay, and patted its neck. “You got a collar?” His fingers connected with a leather strap, and he pulled it around until he could read the tags.
“Sadie,” he murmured, and flipped the piece of metal over to find a phone number. “Your name is Sadie?” The dog’s memory was fuzzy, but she recognized the sound. Looking up at Fable, she dropped what was left of the shoe and smiled.
It’s one of those nights again, where Fable can’t fall asleep, where even the TV turned up to full volume can’t drown out his thoughts. He can’t forget what happened. He can’t forget the faces of those he killed. And all of a sudden, he can’t stand to be alone. It’s only his first night in this hotel, but he only booked it for one. He can afford to do things he normally would only dream of.
So he gets in a bar fight. Doesn’t even hit back that much. All he does is take the punches that the other drunk throws at him in the dingy parking lot. It’s fine, Fable thinks, blood streaming down his face and ringing in his ears. He deserves more, he deserves so much more for what he did, but maybe this will help him forget. It has to suffice for now.
It makes him feel better. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it does. And then it makes him feel weak for not being able to do it to himself.
The next day he books it out of town in a stolen car, nursing a black eye and bruises all over. Whoever owned the rusty heap last won’t miss it. They won't miss him. It’s fine. He’s done worse. He doesn’t check any map, just follows the road and stops at the next hotel. He practices his story. He got mugged. Yeah, that sounds right. He got mugged and they took all his money.
Fable takes all of two steps out of the car before he gets a good look at himself in the reflection of a window. His hair is stringy and tangled. His clothes are torn and dirty, and he never bothered to shower the night before. He probably reeks of alcohol. He gets back in the car. They’ll think he’s a junkie at best, they’ll call the cops at worst. It’s fine. He’ll find somewhere else. He starts driving again, even though he knows that it’ll never make him clean. Driving isn’t going to make him look like a real person again. It will never fix the problem to run away from it, but that’s always what he ends up doing.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the car runs out of gas, so Fable pulls over, reclines the seat, and closes his eyes. It’s not the worst place he’s slept.
He’ll walk to the next town when the sun comes up. A new town, a new chance to try to be someone else. They won’t know the Fable that impulsively decided to start a fight, or the Fable that ruined his hotel room. And if they figure it out, he can always move on and let their memory of him fade away, just like so many times before.
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