crimson, wistful, ten, current, keys, eclipse, seven, black, twenty-one.
It was easier to lean into the training than buck up against it. Refusing was instinctive when he was brought in - saying no to the expectations they set, to the orders that went against all of his morals even at the age of ten. It was not without repercussions, and serious ones at that - the nightmare he found himself living only became worse, and the first hard lesson he learned that it was easier to give his assent and buckle under the orders he was given. Easier to go with the current than against it. Like the sharp burst of electricity he’d encountered when he was five, when another foster child in the home had convinced him to plug a fork into an outlet to see what would happen. Like the electricity jolted through his body by his handler in an effort to make him more pliable and compliant, to wipe away the boy that RJ had been and begin to form the soldier he’d be under their thumb. The water was rising, the current was strong and rapid and overpowering: letting himself ride the wave and get dragged under was the only option.
