﹝[abbr=don't look back]♢[/abbr]﹞

//tw for cults, food poisoning and sickness

The house is one of those that looks smaller from the outside. Maybe that’s the location, you can’t see how far back it goes because of trees, or the exterior facade, or maybe just smartly used space within. That’s not to say that it looks small from the outside, because it doesn’t. But you wouldn’t look at it and think that a dozen people live there. Then again, you wouldn’t think that those people were cultists.

Despite the number of rooms, the place feels suffocating. There’s a multitude of factors at play, between the people, the furniture and the storage. So much storage. Everything a person might ever need was there, being hoarded for the apocalypse. Taking with no need was strictly forbidden. But then, lots of things were forbidden. And the walls had eyes, and ears.

They were meant to claim ownership over those eyes and ears. If anyone asked, they did. They knew everything. There was just one problem: they didn’t.

Fourteen years old, Catalyst was the Harbinger of the Apocalypse. Their birth put all the artificial lights out on earth, and their death would extinguish the sun. That was their lore, their mythos, and that’s what the people around them genuinely believed. Really they were just a kid with a fake name and a false title. But when the man that plucked you off the streets and gave you something sort of like a family told you you were a god? It didn’t matter if you knew you were being played, your role was his pawn. At least you were treated like you were higher than a king.

Who knows what Derick would do if they didn’t play their part? If they misspoke or misstepped, revealed that this “religion” was built on lies? They didn’t want to find out, so they learned their lines, mastered the blank, unrevealing face that kept their thoughts hidden. Even in the moments where they were certain they slipped up, these people were so gullible that it wasn’t too hard to cover up.

There’s something oppressive about the halls. Narrow, dimly lit, not even bright decorations can spare it. Or maybe that’s the general energy of the house. They can’t believe it, but they actually miss Derick’s crowded little three bedroom. Sure, they’d had to share a room with Louie, but between his frequent sleep-overs at Gerald’s house and Cat often just sleeping on the couch in Derick’s study after they’d drifted off while studying, it wasn’t too bad.

”Catalyst.” He didn’t need to speak loudly for his voice to carry down the hall. Derick didn’t need to say anything else, simply angled his head towards his office. No one needed to the idea that their god took orders, that they weren’t the one in charge. Wordlessly they followed him into his office. It was probably the only room in the whole building where you could speak and have no one hear. Bookshelves lined the walls, there were no windows so it was lit by candles, and in the middle of the room was a black desk. They each took a seat on either side of it. ”We’ve got a situation.”

A knot formed in the pit of their stomach. ”What is it?”

Derick placed his hands on the desk, weaving his fingers together. ”Honey. She’s having doubts about you.” Their blood ran cold. ”She’s been praying - I don’t know who to, and I don’t think she even knows. She wonders about you, if you are what you say. She thinks you’re a kid.”

He stared at them expectantly. They looked down at their own hands, clasped in their lap, thinking. ”If you’re wondering if I did something to set her off, I didn’t. I haven’t said or done anything.” And it was true. Whatever gave her the sense that they were lying, it wasn’t something that they had done. Was it?

”You’ve become a good liar. Too good.” They glanced back up at him. ”I can’t tell if you’re telling me the truth or not, but either way it doesn’t matter. Either you’re right and she’s getting this somewhere else, or you’re deceptive and good enough to fool her anyway.” Well no, they wanted to say, I could lie to you but speak truly to her. They held their tongue. ”In any case, you need to deal with it.”

They didn’t like the sound of that, but they kept their face as stony neutral as ever. ”How?”

Derick gave an annoyed huff. ”One of these days you need to take control yourself you know, Catalyst.” He paused. ”But since this is the first time you’ve had to deal with something like this, I will help you.” And he did. Together they formulated a plan, but it was up to them to execute it.

So they went into the kitchens before dinner the next night. Susanna was preparing the meal, but she wasn’t going to look twice at anything they did in there. Or even once if she could help it. Then they sauntered out into the dining room where the cultists were congregating, sitting down and preparing to eat. They sat down at the head of the table, had a nice meal, trying to keep their glances in Honey’s direction minimal. She saw them looking, they know she did. Eh, maybe they could use that.

Once dinner was over, all they had to do was wait. And eventually, Honey was running for the bathroom. They set down the book they’d been reading and casually followed her, pushing open the bathroom door and leaning against the frame while she emptied the contents of her stomach. They waited, saying nothing, letting their presence do the talking for the time being. She glanced at them out of the corner of her eye a couple times, but considering that she was preoccupied, they got no other acknowledgement.

Finally the vomiting slowed down enough, even ceased for a few minutes, that they could speak. ”I know you’ve been doubting me.” They said, and her eyes widened. ”And that you haven’t told anyone. A smart move, but a smarter move would not be questioning me again.” They took a few steps forward and crouched down next to her. They weren’t sure if the shaking was because of the food poisoning or them, though they were quite sure they were the reason her eyes were so big and afraid. ”I ruined hundreds of years of progress just by existing. Just in case you think you can just start eating things touched only by your hands. You can’t escape me, so I wouldn’t recommend trying.” They straightened up and turned around, making their way to the door again. Their back still to her they paused, looking over their shoulder. ”Have I made my point?”

”Yes, Catalyst.” She choked out.

”Good.” They almost walked away, but they hesitated. Ah, yes. They sniffed the air, then wrinkled their nose. ”It reeks in here. When you’re done be sure to clean this place out.”

Another, more feeble, ”yes, Catalyst.” Satisfied, they left her to her misery, trying not to think too hard about what they had just done.

[spoiler=IF YOU DONT KNOW NOW YOU KNOW && INFO && 10/14/19]GENERAL  welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life
⇥ Given name is Scott Mathew Darrow ⇥ Alias is Catalyst
⇥ Will accept Cat or Catalyst from anyone, Scott only from family
⇥ Assigned male at birth ⇥ Agender ⇥ They/Them pronouns only
⇥ Twenty-one ⇥ Born 11/27/17 ⇥ Sagittarius ⇥ Real time aging
⇥ Boss (leader) of the Badlands ⇥ Ex prisoner of the Badlands
⇥ Ex cultist (Mourningstar) ⇥ Ex member of the Young Rogues

RECENT EVENTS  done my time and served my sentence
⇥ 09/02/39 ⇥ Returned from vacation
⇥ 08/23/39 ⇥ Went on vacation with Gavril
⇥ 08/21/39 ⇥ Oversaw their parents' vow renewal

APPEARANCE  dress me up and watch me die
⇥ Catalyst is 6'2" tall; they possess a lean and muscular body, one that has a variety of old scars adorning it. One of the easiest to notice is one that stretches down their right cheek. While not a scar, one very notable marking on their chest is the "BL" brand. They have two piercings, one in their tongue and the other in the cartilage of their left ear. They typically dress in dark colors (favoring jackets with some sort of writing on the back), and their hair is black. They're not all dark, however, as they have pale blue eyes that peer out from beneath medium-sized eyebrows.

PERSONALITY  if it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine
⇥ Catalyst is ambitious, with the cunning and ruthlessness to reach their goals by any means necessary. They can be brutal when they feel it is needed, however when it's not they won't bother. They tend to be rather aloof and apathetic to most things and people, with some very rare exceptions. Provided those around them don't cross a few specific lines, they're content to leave them be, though they've been known to take an interest in some people, which seldom has a positive end for whoever their interest is in. They can be manipulative, and will often encourage people to make bad decisions. Those that stick by them will be rewarded, but those that do not will be cast out, as they've been outcast for their entire life and have learned to appreciate loyalty wherever they can find it. Even during the most stressful of situations, they usually keep a firm grip on their temper and keep their calm, though when they do snap and lose their temper, it is uncontrollable. They're remarkably observant, often able to deign much from subtle clues in what people say, how they say it and how they act.

RELATIONS  dynasty decapitated, you just might see a ghost tonight
⇥ Molly Darrow x Austin Darrow ⇥ No biological siblings
⇥ Adopted parent of Molly Valentina Darrow-Lupei (Mo)
⇥ Pansexual/Panromantic ⇥ Very much taken by Gavril Lupei
⇥ Not looking but it happened ⇥ Rarely forms romantic attachment
⇥ Holds most people at arms length and doesn't get close

INTERACTION  i'm taking back the c r o w n
⇥ Hard physically ⇥ Hard mentally ⇥ Doesn't let their guard down
⇥ Is most comfortable with close ranged-weapons ⇥ Dislikes guns
⇥ Brass knuckles ⇥ A variety of knives ⇥ Carries a handgun
⇥ Will kill/capture/maim in certain circumstances
⇥ Will leave things be in others ⇥ Will start & finish fights
⇥ No kill/capture/maim without permission
⇥ Attack in bold #0d0d0d and tag @/Bryne
⇥ Peaceful powerplay allowed but they may react negatively
⇥ Dislikes almost any sort of touch unless they initiate or agree to it
[/spoiler]