WILT AND SCATTER.

                     ❝ THE BOY WHO ONCE THOUGHT PEACE POSSIBLE IS GONE.                          HIS EYES WERE OPENED TO THE TRUTH.

WHO IS HE? An extremist who fully believes that humankind are miserable, wretched beings that will stop at nothing to undermine and destroy the faunus. Years of being influenced by radical ideology have led him to become a man incapable of seeing the nuances in any situation. Humanity is evil. His crusade is good. Adam also has an incredibly warped perception of himself; he fancies himself a tragic martyr, being the only one devoted enough to his cause to free faunuskind from subjugation. In reality, he is a rabid dog– one who thinks only of his own agenda, and is prone to obsessive thoughts.

IN A NUTSHELL:

Manipulative. Narcissistic, in the sense he can do no wrong. Truly believes his actions are justifiable.

Has been thrown into disgrace in the past. No longer performs his crusades beneath the banner of the White Fang.

Will get what he wants, at all costs. Or he’ll die trying.

Where can you find him? Seedy places, doing seedy things. Trying to recruit others to his cause. Lurking in the back corner of bars. Scoping the scene out from a distance.

What are things that he likes, aside from revelling in violence? Not much. But that’s the point. He’s committed himself to the White Fang for so long and so deeply that he doesn’t have much of a person outside of his own vendettas.

the floodgates had burst open after such unbearable pressure crumbled it into dust. it started out slow, hairline cracks making themselves known as adam kept his voice low and serious as he always did. there was only the rare falter of his cool demeanor has he pressed on, presenting itself as tense muscles twinged every other moment he spoke. he spoke of betrayal, loneliness; how completely and utterly selfish she was for having left him for better beginnings… a cause that would make her hopes and dreams come true rather than making her look like an ignorant fool.

and maybe he was right. maybe she was a selfish bitch for picking her own health over his personal comfort. maybe she was selfish for believing she could have a shot at something greater rather than being at his side, following orders like a battered dog in the fighting ring. maybe she was just a horrible, disgusting person who did not deserve to live the life she wanted to, and instead, should have never cut ties with the one who she once felt at home with. but that home was empty now… deserted, nothing left but broken glass and empty shelves where all the happy memories used to lay. 

once upon a time she would have believed such a thing.

but not now. not ever.

festered anger had flowed forth after its initial release. he is yelling now, the faunus beneath him looking on with a will made of solid stone. she does not allow her head to snap back as he pushes his forehead up against her own. instead she stands her ground, feeling spit and searing rage burn against her face. he does not give her any time to speak. not that she could give a rebuttal in time. 

no. he chooses what was to happen next. 

like a snake on the hunt his arm whips out, hand snatching her face in what was nothing short of a titanic grip. through the space between his fingers her eyes widen, hand reaching to grab his wrist in preparation of what was to come. blake knew she could not escape his hold. though what she could do was hopefully ease the devastation he had planned.

and as always, his surprises never disappointed. 

its agony. the pure, unbridled agony of blunt nails tearing into her flesh. how they press into the skin with all his might, ripping away the protection in a slow and steady pace. it stings. it stings. it stings– warm blood oozing down her cheeks, down unblemished skin, clinging to the end of her chin. 

a sharp gasp is the only noise that escapes her, trying with all of her strength to pry his soiled hand away.

Caving to his lust for blood, rage pumping through every vein in his body straight from the heart-- it only fuels his desire for more. Blake gives a gasp, but what would she do if he took her head and slammed it against the wall, over and over, until her skull cracks open? Would she scream if he took one of those beautiful feline ears-- ears that a traitor to the faunus doesn’t deserve-- and ripped it right from her head?

He wants to. But he doesn’t. It’s the resemblance to the little sister he once adored with all his being that restrains the rest of his unholy wrath from spilling forth. There is no respect, no love, no loyalty left in the Belladonna. Adam, however, doesn’t have to stoop that low. Not this time. Not when he’s making a point. His other hand snaps to Blake’s throat, not choking her, but rather holding her against the wall, fingers following the shape of her jaw. Forcing her to look him in the eyes, eyes that hardly belong to a sentient being at this point. His gaze is nothing but fire, wide and red hot, canines bared and nose wrinkled.

“ You say I don’t love you?  Fine, Blake Belladonna-- you haven’t even begun to see what my hatred feels like. ” He snarls, further using the weight of his body to ensnare her. With the sharp squeeze of her chin, she can likely feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest against her. It borders halfway to hyperventilation. “ I have given you chances time and time again, but if this is what you want, I’m FUCKING HAPPY TO OBLIGE! ”

He will attempt to lift her by the jaw ever so slightly from the ground. Sliding her back against the wall with no care for how the jagged bricks might feel against her back. Voice lowers to a horrible snarl as he continues: “ You’ve made your bed. Now you’re going to wallow in it. ”

And without warning, Adam’s other hand will move to grab a fistful of hair. He flings her to the side, into the dirt, with all of his strength. Discarded like a piece of trash-- but that’s all he is to her, isn’t it? So it’s only fair he RETURNS THE FAVOR.

          Repulsive ? 

          She had never once paired life with such a term, one filled with such disdain and disgust. Yet, this young man - despite his youth in comparison to Rose’s own centuries of life - obviously felt strongly on the matter of some species. From the way he had spoken earlier, she could say with certainty that he, despite their similar appearances, was not a human being. 

          ❝ You’re right. I wouldn’t have been able to come into existence without sacrificing something else - and certainly, my disapproval was rare among my kind, considered ‘rebellion’ by our supreme authorities. But with power comes corruption, and the constant expansion of Gemkind seemed needlessly greedy in my eyes. Gems occupy hundreds of planets at this point. At least in my mind, that is enough. ❞ She had been one of those supreme powers once too, one who had passed a blind eye to the destruction. A naive Diamond, innocent to their true nature, believing the other Diamonds - her sisters - to be flawless in every sense.  ❝ - and you ? What ofyour world ? I am always curious about what lies beyond what I have seen, and you certainly seem the passionate sort. ❞ 

          Perhaps too passionate. Passion could be a dangerous emotion if one allowed it to overpower themselves. 

The subject of gemkind, and life coming hand-in-hand with destruction... it fascinates him. Another train of thought has taken the rails, however, and when she asks of him and his roots, Adam turns to look off in a different direction, sharp frown only visible in profile. “ Imagine a land domineered by tyrants who consider themselves warriors of justice. Now imagine them as they sit in their lofty towers, and defend only those like themselves. Blind to their hypocrisy, bloated with self-righteousness. ”

He turns on his heel, scraping the ground. Looking to Rose, pacing lightly in front of her as he speaks. An instructor to his student. “ They wage war when it suits them. Take and take until there’s nothing left for the ‘unworthy’. But it isn’t for the sake of giving life. ” Not like the Gems. In spite of the similarities, they are two very, very different worlds in his radiant golden eyes. “ It’s merely for the sake of having. To further build up their wealthy cities, and to soundproof the walls to the cries of the dying. ” Pause. “ That is my world. Now tell me... ”

The she-devil. Her name brings a twitch to his eye, a tautness to his jaw. On his own, the rumor would perhaps bring a tinge of fear to his otherwise adamantium spine. If his queen were not here...

But she is, and that’s what matters.

“Mm.” With everyone he had somehow come across on this strange new adventure, this man, this…faunus, was by far the only one who had given off a true menacing presence. Clearly making an enemy was not wise, but it wasn’t likely friendship could be a possibility, either. 

At the very least, he was willing to stay neutral in this situation, and gave a humble nod of his head.

 “Of course, I will be sure to remember it.”

He observes, not quite pleased with the reaction, but not disgusted, either. An odd neutrality. Maybe due to the fact he can’t quite decide for himself what he considers this creature to be.

「You’ve always been fond of his EYES. The hue of them had always been appealing, given where your loves lie, but they had always had a spark of something else you loved: ANGER and PASSION. Those were just some of the reasons you had decided to take on the Faunus as one of your own despite his non-Alternian blood. DRIVE carried someone far, but more than that, so did LOYALTY. It’s something you can definitely appreciate, all things considered.」

「You stroll past him toward the shoreline, calling his visor from where it lay in the sand with a thought and floating it over to him. As much as you would prefer he do without it, you can tell just from his posture he prefers otherwise. Things were delicate as of now. It was better to cater and grow deeper roots than bend the trunk when it was unnecessary, from your view.」

“Did you really expect anything less, Adam? Humans are foolish and think surviving one disaster makes them immune to the next. They love to gloat about their indomitable spirit, but when faced with true helplessness, they crumble from within. I have seen it. With any luck, I will do so again.”

“But you’re right. This sea is far different than the other. I can tell from the smell of it that it isn’t that grime-choked pond from before. It will serve as a good base, with time.”

「You glance back at the young man, a curious glint in your stalks.」

“What do you make of being brought to this place, my Knight? What do you wish for after being given this new beginning? Speak candidly.”

The Condesce caters to his whim-- at least, the unspoken yearning for a mask to conceal his emotions. And yet, when he takes it in his hand, he feels no real desire to put it on. Itching for protection in one instance, and in the next, feeling as though he owes this stripped down version of himself to his liege. Turning the mask over, examining the intricate designs on the front of the piece, Adam looks from it, to Her Imperiousness’ imposing silhouette.

How it makes his spirits rise. From the depths of the sands, choking and thick like a shackle around his neck. The Condesce understands. The voice of reason in this world that few others seem to truly understand. Clarity amidst the madness. A woman who can truly see past the guise of humanity for what they are-- filth. Murderers. Cowards.

When she turns, requests an answer from him, Adam’s brows arch. Lowering his golden gaze to the mask, and then at last settling it upon the bridge of his nose. What does he want? The White Fang’s good name is tarnished, and there will be no rebuilding it. Without that in mind, it startles him how hollow his chest feels. Thus comes his answer, staring her in those imposing eyes as he speaks: “ I don’t know, Condesce. ”

“Oh?”

haha no being able to send memes adam

Let’s go Back in Time!

Send “Time Machine+ a symbol” to have your muse go back and meet mine as a…

🍼: Newborn/baby (0-4 yrs)

🐻: Young child (5-9 yrs)

⚽️: Preteen (10-12 yrs)

🎧: Young Teen (13-15 yrs)

📱: Older Teen (16-18 yrs)

there would come a point where her back finally manages to hit the wall behind her. thickly she swallows the aching lump in her throat, fists loosening at her sides just a tad despite him drawing forth. it was true… all of it had been true. once upon a time, adam was one of few who looked after her in their youth. he had always made sure to patch up her wounds and selflessly give her his extra rations; taught her how to fend for herself as best an adolescent could, and watched over her in the dead of night whilst on post. that much would never forget. she refused to. just as she refused to forget the wrong he has done all the while.

the same old song and dance does get exhausting after its monthly rounds, doesn’t it? 

throughout his entire monologue that had been pitted against her, there was one thing that had angered her more than the rest– more than him reminiscing about what once was, and preaching false predictions to which she could argue against him for the integrity of her teammates. there were not many things that had angered blake belladonna. annoyed? sure. but genuinely, purely pissed off?

only one phrase to come from him caused her to use her words as weapons.

“ don’t you dare say that to me. you don’t “ love ” me anymore. this– ” she gestures to the situation with open arms, raising her voice just a tad. “ this isn’t love, adam. this isn’t anything remotely close to it! if your idea of love is to gaslight me to the point of feeling sorry for you? praising you for something decent you did out of unconditional compassion for me as a literal child? ” a dangerous move, but it happens all at once; a finger jabs into his chest, sneering up at him with sharp canines peeking from her angered snarl. “ then your definition of love is twisted. i’ve always been grateful for what you’ve done for me, and you know damn well how much i said it time and time again. every verbal thank you, every attempt at returning what you call a favor. i tried my best for you. and even then, that wasn’t enough. ”

there is an uneasy silence between them as blake catches her breath. yet she starts again. “ … but we’re past that now. i know where your intentions lie. you aren’t the brother who i used to look up to and who i aspired to be. if you think now that i owe you anything? ”  her hand stays on his chest for only another moment, soon after lifting the finger off of him before hissing her final statement.

“ you’re. dead. wrong. ”

With every jab, comes a shoot of pain. Not emotional pain, no-- it’s anger so thick, so chokingly thick, that he can feel the heat of bile in the back of his throat. Now his lip begins to fully curl back, leaning closer, the tenseness of his body betraying his emotions. Hooking Wilt and Blush to his belt to free both hands, Adam replies: “ Have you ever heard the phrase... ” A pause. With a single, violent motion, he yanks off a glove. Revealing knuckles scarred from the past, nails neatly trimmed despite his skin being tarnished with marks of war. 

            “ ...don’t bite the hand that feeds you? ”

“ How dare you say I don’t love you, you traitorous coward. ” Despite it all, the closeness, the palm hovering between their faces, his wrath remains at a thrum. There, but lurking beneath the surface. Leaking out with every moment he dwells on her biting retort. “ In the end, it doesn’t matter you left the White Fang, Blake. Friends and allies died because of your absence, but the White Fang is no more. That can be water under the bridge. ” His tone says otherwise. “ But I cannot-- will not-- forgive the very fact you turned your back on your own family. You call me unloving, but who pushed me to this point, Blake? Who left me alone when I needed you most? I had to take on the burdens of the White Fang for myself. I led them into battle, I struggled to keep them in good health-- but who was there to take care of me? ”

Breath has grown heavy. Inches from Blake’s face, his ungloved hand snaps up abruptly to throw aside his mask. Creases have formed between his eyes, sparking with a wild fire. “ No one, Blake! Do you know how that feels? To have no one watching your back? You seem to enjoy running off and playing with your new human friends, excusing them for all that they’ve done-- and you don’t think for a second-- ” His voice lowers, spitting snarled words onto her nose, “ About the brother you left behind. ”

His hand tightens into a fist, finger by finger, not held in Blake’s face like a threat, but as though attempting to regain control of his own body. “ You-- ” he struggles to find words for a second. Teeth gnashing in their absence. “ You care nothing about ANYTHING except YOURSELF, Blake Belladonna. Don’t SAY that I’M the one who’s twisted when YOU’RE the one who ran off to play huntress-- to align yourself with the heroes that have forsaken us from the very BEGINNING. If you think you’re a HERO for turning your back on us, THINK AGAIN. ”

The kettle is whistling.

He thinks of the Schnee. Blake protecting her rather than him. The huntsmen and huntresses that supposedly fight for justice-- their own brand of justice. His crusade, and how they’ve made REAL PROGRESS-- a cause supposedly not GOOD enough for Blake. Adam leans in, roughly butting his forehead against her own. Staring her down in those golden eyes full of contempt.

“ You think you’re ABOVE ME? Think AGAIN! ” There’s a visible snap in his gaze. Something wild. Untamed. “ THINK AGAIN, YOU SELFISH, MISERABLE WASTE OF SPACE! ”

Ungloved hand snaps forward, taking hold of her head as though to crush it. But though the strength of a bull flows through his veins, it’s not enough to shatter a skull in one palm. Letting out a snarl, guttural and contorted by the baring of his teeth, he does the first thing his instincts tell him to. RAKING his nails across her face, tearing flesh, blood welling beneath his fingers. Index, middle, and ring. The only three in position to sink solidly into her skin. Spittle and hot breath herald a horrible, horrible roar: