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[attr="class","leaguecardslip"]

[attr="class","leaguecardslip"]

[attr="class","leaguecardsliptext1"]Name:

[attr="class","leaguecardsliptext2"]Pronouns:

[attr="class","leaguecardsliptext3"]Speciality:

[attr="class","leaguecarddbig"]

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trigger warning: scenes of extreme violence/murder mention
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you broke once, you broke so badly that you were pretty damn sure you weren't going to be able to put yourself back together.
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it was just a few days shy of your fourteenth birthday. you were so excited because you had accidentally-on-purpose snooped around in your parents' bedroom, desperate to find out what they had bought you for your birthday. they had bought you a new recorder, fully decked out with all the latest tech. you were so excited to record every waking moment.
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how were you supposed to know there was some sort of purpose or unfortunate coincidence you got your hands on that thing?
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you were always a little bit impatient as a kid, even though they beat it out of you as an adult. but at the time, you were desperate to just try the recorder one time before mom and dad surprised you with it. you had to make sure it worked, right?
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just as you had carefully opened up the packaging in a way that would look like it hadn't been opened at all, you heard your mom scream. you remember that white-hot panic you felt at that unrecognizable terror you heard. you felt it in your very soul.
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you closed yourself in the closet, just as dylan began to cry. mom had startled him awake. your heartbeat pounded with the heavy steps of your mom's feet as she made a break for the bedroom. she had to save her nearby newborn son.
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she had no idea you were in there, and luckily the murderer didn't either.
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you didn't even cry, but you sat there in stunned silence as you watched through the tiny cracks in the panelled closet doors. your breath was shallow, your heart pounding so loud in your ears you couldn't hear.
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you saw what happened to mom. you saw that man hover over your baby brothers crib with the reflective knife.
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dad came home, and there was a struggle.
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i know you try to remember that night, emma, but you can't. it's blank now, a blank slate. it hurts a little bit to even try. there was so much blood, and you remember the feeling of the recorder locked in the vice grip of your tiny fingers. you had apparently recorded the entire thing.
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you saved the police another couple months of searching for the piece of shit, emma. it's a shame about your parents though.
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it's natural for your body to block out horrible memories that hurt you, so it isn't a surprise that you can't bring yourself to recall specific details about that night.
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the most vivid thing you can remember are your therapist visits. you remember endless droning on and on from the tired older woman who had absolutely no fucking idea what you could have went through. but she was nice though, and she always brought you your favourite flavour of lollipop.
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you heard a lot of people talking behind your back, saying things like 'orphan' and 'what a shame.' you hated that, you hated that so much that you shut your words away and refused to let anyone in. they wouldn't let you see dylan because they were afraid of what you might do. as if you were the killer, right?
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dylan was adopted really quickly, but for some reason you weren't. and you still weren't allowed to see him. your inability to properly communicate with people or express any sort of emotion was concerning to the nurses and psychiatrists. they deemed you unstable.
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they were right.
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while dylan went on to forget completely about the horrors of that night, never knowing anything about his past, you would continue to be haunted by terrible nightmares. of course, every time you woke up you couldn't remember the details, but they left you cold and dark and lonely.
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you may have shut out most of the truth, but you did remember one specific part of that night, and the nights that followed: you helped put a serial killer in jail. you helped lock him away for a long, long time, but that wasn't enough for you.
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you didn't immediately seek out revenge. for a couple of years you were kept under close supervision in well-protected and safe homes. they treated you well, and when you started to get better and become more social, you were allowed to leave.
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you were around eighteen then. you had learned to lie and show people what they wanted to see. you weren't really a liar, but you never really showed the whole truth. you had the ability to be happy, but you never really were.
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it's not really clear how you got into a life of crime. but you were more like a vigilante, you learned how to track people, how to break into houses and find out everything about people; their habits, their secrets, their plans.
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honestly, it's not really a surprise that you turned into exactly the thing you hated.
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for a while, you worked as a mercenary or 'for-profit' vigilante. you murdered murderers. you weren't satisfied with them being thrown behind bars, only for them to get a chance to do it again.
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you wanted to make sure they could never hurt anyone ever again.
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unfortunately, while you had been really good at covering your tracks and being discreet, you had one fatal flaw.
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you had never forgotten your baby brother. you followed him a lot, but always from a distance. you were a nameless face in a crowd. but you never missed a birthday or holiday. you rejoiced in his happiness, even if it didn't show in your face.
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because you loved him so much, you left yourself wide open for someone smarter than you to break you.
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you were working a hit against team rocket. they had been responsible for a lot of murders - both human and pokemon. you were going to get paid - a lot - but that didn't really matter to you. you were a hunter, and you enjoyed taking down criminals.
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team rocket figured out who you were though, and you never found out how.
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they threatened dylan, that's what broke you. they told you that if you didn't start working for them, they would go after him and then you. they didn't want to kill you though. you were valuable.
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so you joined team rocket. it's been almost six years now since you went to the dark side. it's as if they brainwashed you because you actually enjoy working for them and it doesn't make you sick anymore.
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in fact, they promoted you to one of the 'beasts' - you were one of the strongest grunts in the force. they admired you. they changed your name from 'gray' to 'wolfe' - like the spider.
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what happened, emma?

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