Say Hello to Your New Bartender

[Aubrey Rose]

-ish Wynne-
Just thought I'd post for Aubrey.
-shrug-
See where it goes.
Feel free to join!
-nods-


Fear. A noun. Meaning: A feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or imminence of danger. Everyone experienced fear. It was a natural emotion. Fear is empowered by man. It’s as real as courage, happiness, sadness, and excitement.

Sometimes fear can take control over a person. It can cause the destruction of life if strong enough. It can poison a persons’ mind and cause a block between a goal and where a person is. It can consume a life if strong enough.

Aubrey knew enough about fear. The endless facts were always swirling around her mind. She knew about fears, phobias, panic attacks, and disorders caused by fear. She knew almost every single phobia there was out there. And believe me there are a lot. Over 10,000 at least.

Achluophobia: Fear of Darkness
Blennophobia: Fear of Slime
Chrematophobia: Fear of Money
Geniophobia: Fear of chins.

All the way down the alphabet. Starting with Ablutophobia (fear of washing/bathing) and ending with Zoophobia (fear of animals.) Aubrey could read people’s fear like it was tattooed onto their foreheads. The tricky part was making their fears come to life. If you haven’t guessed by now, Aubrey’s power was reading and bringing people’s fear to life.

When she was 15 years old, her powers began to develop. She could suddenly feel what other people were afraid of. She couldn’t do anything about it because she had yet to learn how to control or even use her powers. One afternoon, she was sitting in the park, alone. Her house was right down the road so she was always free to walk down. She didn’t have to be worried about kidnappers or anything like that because she had two older brothers who taught her how to fight.

A man approached her. He called himself “Bronze” but he told her she could call him “B.” He seemed friendly enough. Around the age of maybe his early 20’s. Aubrey, being a friendly person, introduced herself. He suddenly began to ask her questions about if she had been sensing anything “strange” the past few days. Aubrey, wanting desperately for someone to understand and believe her, told him about how she could somehow feel the anxiety of other people. Bronze just smirked and listened. They met up with each other again the next couple of days. Bronze taught her more about her powers. Aubrey didn’t know how he knew but what he was teaching her was helping. She could channel each persons’ own fear. One day he pointed to a young girl. She could only be about 10 years old.

“What’s her fear?”

He asked. He glanced at the girl and then back at Aubrey. Aubrey focused her thoughts on the little girl. Soon an image flashed into her mind. A white figure. Almost dead looking, chasing her.

“Phasmophobia. The fear of ghosts.”

Aubrey kept her eyes closed and focused more. She tried to concentrate and see more of the vision that the girl feared. Bronze spoke again.

“Try pulling the vision out of your mind and into reality.”

Aubrey was confused. She didn’t really know how to do it.

“Try pulling that scene and overlap it with this environment. Just focus.”

What would the harm be? Aubrey was a little confused but so far Bronze had helped her so whatever he was doing now was probably just to help her. She did what he said. Her head suddenly felt like it split open. She winced a little bit and pulled her hands to her head. When she heard a scream, she opened her eyes.

The little girl was screaming and running frantically. Behind her, a white ghost-like figure was chasing her. The young girls mom looked at her daughter, worried, trying to find out what was wrong. Only Aubrey and the little girl could see the ghost. That’s also what the young girl feared. That she would be alone and no one would believe that something was haunting her.

Aubrey looked at Bronze. He was smirking and looking at the little girl. He looked back at Aubrey and clapped a little.

“Good job…”
“What the hell just happened?”
“Your power has just evolved…”

What? What power? Aubrey thought reading peoples’ fears and phobia’s was her power. Was she wrong? Was her power bringing those said fears to life? Bringing them to reality. Bronze looked at her and narrowed his eyes for a second, deep in thought.

“Now here’s a good question. What do you, Aubrey, the fear master, fear?”

Aubrey didn’t know what the hell just happened. Bronze had suddenly changed his behavior. He wasn’t as kind and sweet as normal. He was clever, witty but most importantly, sarcastic, like everything he was saying was a joke.

Aubrey’s mind immediately went over to what she feared. It was like she was examining herself. Her head felt like it was being split open and a new vision flashed into her mind. Her family faces. Her mother, father, and siblings dead, lifeless, cold stares. They were dead. She could feel her uncontrolled, unstable power being drawn out. She tried to stop it but it was too strong. Before she knew what was happening, it was all over. Silence. She opened her eyes again and looked around. Bronze was gone.

Aubrey ran home. When she got to her front door, a note was posted. It read…

“Be seeing you…

B”

Aubrey opened the door to find her worst fear inside.
----------------------------------------------

3 years later and Aubrey was still on the search for B. She knew he was in Manhattan for a while on “business,” whatever that was. She was determined to find him and kill him with his own fears.

Aubrey walked into a bar and sat down at a counter. The bar tender came up to her and told her to show him ID. Jeez, not again. She hated to be carded. No, she wasn’t 21. Who cared? Aubrey sighed and smiled a little at him. She walked around the counter and walked up to him. She was 2 inches from his mouth. She whispered something to him.

“Meet me in the back?”

Well, the 40-year-old married man, immediately smiled and nodded. Sure, why wouldn’t he take an opportunity like this? An 18 year old girl asking him if he wanted to get it on. What 40-year-old could resist? He ran into the back and she followed. As soon as she was out of the public, she grabbed his head and bashed it into the table. Out cold. That was easy. Aubrey walked back out to the room. She grabbed a shot and drank it down. She began to examine all the drinks this bar had. She smiled a little. Say hello to your new bartender.

[Liao Zhang]

Love the new character
-ponders on joining-

[Liao Zhang]

[partly recycled hope thats alright]

"Oh God what the hell are you? stop, please let me go, please! I was kidding, it was a joke, please God, please."

These were screams heard in sleep, in daydreams. Everytime he blinked, Liao Zhang heard the pleas for salvation, heard the victim of his greatest crime scream. It wasn't a stomach turning event or one of nightmares. He felt little remourse in what happened to the boy. In what he did to that boy. He was a sacrifice to power, without him Liao might have still been in Taiwan. He might still be walking down the same school hallways, a weak-link in the Zhang family chain. He might still be enduring his brothers beatings. He might still only have archery and drawing as escapes from the dull, depressing life he led. If it weren't for that boy's death, Liao might have never released his powers.

It was less than a year ago, towards the end of his sophmore year of highschool. Liao was walking down the hallway, pushing his way through the crowds of people. The only thoughts on his mind where that of his family. HIs fathers embarassment of his artist son. His mothers fear that the boy would remain weak and beaten by the world. His brothers physical abuse. Then someone tripped him and down he fell, landing with a loud thud on the black tile floor, bracing himself up with his hands, his long black hair falling infront of his then mahagony eyes. Ow. He muttered a few unpleasent words beneath his breath and reached for his books, but as his hand touched one a foot toppeled on top of it. In shock, the boy withdrew his hand and followed the foot up to a leg and to a face. The tripper. The boy that made him fell.

"Whats wrong, Little Liao? Afraid of being late for class? Jeeze, don't get all hot and upitty little Liao, we got time to play a little before the bell rings."


With that the boy kicked Liao's book across the hall and he watched it slide and hit the opposite wall. Anger...anger...anger. ENOUGH. Liao closed his eyes and growled deep inside his throat. The winds and doors in the hall crashed open, huge gusts of wind filling the hallways. Students papers flew, girls uniform skirts went flying up, people were screaming. And then Liao opened his usually almond color eyes to stare at the boy. He rose onto his feet, as if being carried by the wind and clapped his hands. The wind directed the boy across the hall where Liao's book lay on the ground and the boy was held against the wall as Liao took a step forward and slowly made his way. People were screaming. Choas. Choas. BEAUTIFUL MADNESS. The boy pinned against the wall struggeled and closed his eyes screaming loudly. Thunder pounded outside.

"You want to play? Alright. Lets play human lightbulb."

CRASH. Liao blacked out five seconds later. He was sent to a hospital and when he was revived, he found that a freak storm had sent lightning towards the school that struck the boy. The janitors were still peeling him off the walls. None of the students revealed it was Liao, they were all to much afraid, Liao knew the truth that he had killed this boy. And so did someone else. A man appeared at his house, when he was released by the hospital. The man, calling himself The Dean, told his parents of what really happened that day in the hall. They were shocked but not appauled, it was the first time Liao's father wrapped an arm around his shoulder lovingly. The Dean told them of a school, far from Taiwan, a place in America, in New York City. A place for kids like Liao, with special talents.

Two weeks later, Liao found himself in a country he had only seen on the news.

Language was not a problem. They taught english in schools and that, other than art, was the only class he excelled in. No, the hard part, was being with people. It did not disturb him that he had killed someone. It wasn't as if he had culture shock. It certainly wasn't that he was a nerdy bookworm who didn't know how to be social. No, there were two problems with Liao's coming to Hawthorne Academy. 1. He was shy making it hard to socialize with the children and 2. He didn't like when people touched him. Atleast without permission. If someone touched him, it made him angry. And when he was angry, he was ANGRY.

This was his first year at Hawthorne, his junior year. The people there were....insulting. The only people he could completly stand were the professors. Mainly the Ancient Languages and Art teachers, for the both knew that Liao was not much of a talker, but a hard worker and did not press that it was unhealthy for a boy his age to have so much resentment and no friends. The art teacher was the first person to ever support his drawing. His mother had wanted to be an artist, but instead became a designer in his fathers company. Zhang Enterprises. One of Taiwan's largest technical companys and producer of car parts. These were really the only two classes Liao ever showed up to. Those and Fencing. he was slightly disappointed that Archery had not been a choice for what they called 'electives' but he understood.

People seemed to think swords were a better skill in battle.

"Please god no!"

Liao sat on the roof overhang right outside his bedroom window. They had dorm rooms here, decent ones with closet space and comfortable beds. He didn't mind the room much, other than kids could come in and out of it as they pleased, no matter how much Liao threatened them, it took them weeks to realize he was not the kind of person who enjoyed having people barge into his room. So, when people did try to break in, he found himself climbing out of the window and onto his roof overhang, staring out at the grounds. This truely was the only place one could be alone in this awful school. It was a good place, he supposed, for children who wanted to pretend they were normal. But Liao relished his powers. He adored them. And the Dean was trying to hold him back, trying to keep an eye on him and trying to convince him that true happiness was returning to society.

Destruction was true happiness.

Crash. Bang. Boom. Liao jumped a bit and peered inside to his dorm room...there...were....PEOPLE...in...his...room. Growl. And not just one person, but four or five. Screaming laughing having a grand ol' time not even noticing or acknowlodging the fact that this was HIS room. Not THEIR room. He slipped into the window and set his feet onto his hardwood floor. The four people froze . Two girls, two boys. Liao's pitch black eyes traced their faces and he smiled inside to see they were completly afraid of him. Rumors about him were flying. He, some people said, belonged in Harsham Hall and that the Dean was crazy for allowing him to come here.He, some people said, tried to kill Jeremy Swanson with a feild of arrows. On the contrary, Liao had simply been out at the archery feild and the Swanson boy thought he could pull one over on our dear little Taiwanese boy. Swanson then recieved a parade of arrows as he ran across the feild.

Kill? No...just hurt. Alot.

Liao became itchy. Even if they left their scents would still be there. He'd still feel like he was surrounded by people. It wasn't so much as he was afraid to be around people, as he hated being around people. He was shy by nature and a very angry person. People just made him shyer and angrier. Grabbing his messanger bag, the boy exited his door room leaving the four people inside dumbstruck. He continued down the hallways, out the front doors and allowed the wind to carry him over Hawthorne academys gates. Young Master Zhang then landed softly and gracefully onto the ground without blinking an eye and walked into Manhatten.

Where could he go? There was no breeze and it was slightly humid outside and...well...Liao wasn't a big fan of such heat. Without any change in his facial expression, he caused a cold breeze to flow through every alley and street of Manhatten, and gray fog covered his footsteps. This was more like it. As he walked past the shops, he stopped to look into one. Art supplies. His eyessearched longinly over the brushes and pastels, but then caught that of his reflection. Most students at Hawthorne had no physical reprecaussions to their powers.

Liao did.

Ever since the 'accident' the boy had accumulated pitch black eyes, as if completly iris. They were the only part of him, that he wished would be normal. They made it hard for him to blend in, hard for him to hide his power not that he would want to. But if he ever did it was literally impossible. Growling at himself he quickly walked away and turned into the nearest bar. Wine. Wine could fix this. As it was hard to walk and draw and he couldn't really carry around a box and arrows, drinking was his third back up to happinness. taking a seat at the bar, he suddenly became slightly itchy again. There were too many people here. Thunder cashed outside, lightning as well.

Anger

[crap, real crap]

[Aubrey Rose]

-poke-
I loved it!
-nods-
Mine's going to be short though because I'm brain dead right now.
-lesigh-

[Aubrey Rose]

Fear was an amazing thing to have an influence over. Even though people could over come their fears, most people didn’t. Most people would set up their lives as to avoid a certain phobia. Every single person had something to fear however only a hand full actually faced them.

Aubrey wasn’t one to complain about her power. If she had learned how to use it and control it, it would have been a really neat thing to possess. Too bad someone messed it all up for her. Just thinking about him made her mad. He only seemed to be a whisper now a days. Aubrey had gone to about half his workers and tortured them for information about his whereabouts but she ended up killing them all. She didn’t get any information about where B was. She wasn’t giving up though, she still had more workers who would give her something. She was just taking a little break.

Aubrey grabbed a bottle of vodka and sat on the counter. She laid down on it and stretched a little. She wore plain, worn jeans with a few holes in the knee and ends, a tight, black spaghetti strapped shirt, a jean jacket and black leather boots. She took another mouthful of vodka and drank it down. She closed her eyes and sighed. She heard a man whistle at her. Ignorant man.

She heard thunder. Which was weird because it was hot and humid out. Aubrey opened her eyes and glanced at the half static television. The weatherman was on saying how nice of a night it was going to be. Some prediction. Aubrey closed her eyes again and sighed.

After a few minutes she heard the door open. She heard another thing of thunder and a soft breeze from the opened door. She opened one eye and tilted her head back. She saw a guy come in and sit down at the bar. Aubrey tilted her head a little and narrowed her eyes a little. He couldn’t be older then 18. A little younger maybe. She sighed and closed her eyes again.

“You know, you’re not old enough to drink…”

She smirked a little and set the vodka bottle on the chair next to her.

“But considering I’m a gracious person and a wonderful bar tender. Help yourself…”

She crossed her arms over her chest and opened her eyes when she heard someone speak. It was that ignorant, disgusting man sitting a table away.


“Can I help myself to you…?”

He asked, clearly drunk, standing up a little, beer in hand. Aubrey sighed and hit the counter hard, 3 times. Immediately after she did it, his beer bottle broke and a few pieces of glass pierced his skin. He started to scream. Aubrey smirked and muttered…

“Aichmophobic…”

She swung her legs over the counter and sat up, staring at the guy as he ran out of the bar.

[Bleh]

[Liao Zhang]

Liao's dark eyes skimmed over the shaddy looking characters that inhabited the bar. They seemed to think they looked very tough, especially to this seemingly clean cut Tawainese boy, with his long hair and nice dressy black pants, and red dress shirt. Most of them, the way they were looking at him, were probably thinking they could take his black tie and hang him from the rafters. But Liao could see through their stares, into their true intentions. Not lierally of course, but theres alot you can tell from a person. If they dress tough, it means their alot weaker than they want you to believe. As most of the men that seemed to be intoxicated in the place, were.

"Niether are you," he answered her, without looking at her, "Thank you."

With that, and without a look even in her direction. He jumped over the bar and searched through the bottles. Pick him to choose the sleeziest bar in town. It took him ages to find a decent bottle of wine. Let others have thier liquor, thier beer. All Liao needed was a good red wine. If he wanted to be piss drunk, or intoxicated he'd down a few of those vial little drinks. But if he wanted to drink to be appeased, and for the flavor,he drank wine. Finally finding a nice Merlot the boy jumped back over the bar, with the wine in one hand and a large glass in the other. Taking a seat on his stool, he pulled the cork out with his mouth, spitting it to the side and pouring the crimson liquid into his glass, watching it splash against the sides.

can i help myself to you

Liao didn't need to turn around and watch what was about to unfold. He could see in the reflection of his glass, and though his facial expressionn remaind placid he was grinning on the inside. He liked the girls style, aggressive...angry. He knew immediatly she was probably a student of the same opressive monarch some people liked to call Dean Woodman..or was it Woodrow? Mr. Zhang always just referred to him as 'the Dean'. Just as he had introduced himself to Liao's family. What was her power though? Did she just make things explode? It was so strange to see peoples powers were not always unique. That now and then, along came another person. One with the same genetic...whatever it was. Mutation. Gift.

Liao wanted to say something but it wasn't in his nature to. He hated people. He wasn't afraid of them he just had a great distaste for them. And if he spoke to this girl and she wasn't who he had hoped, there would be no getting rid of her. God forbid she touch him. If he talked to her, she might tap him on the shoulder or jokingly flick him. Then he'd have no control over his anger. Then it was setteled there was no talking to her. However what she had done had been so very...

"Impressive."

Immediatly he regreeted saying that. Sometimes he had no control over what came out of his mouth. Words just escaped. HIs voice was deep and really soft. Mostly because he didn't talk much, but also because he was terribly shy. He growled to himself and FLASH. More lightning. Thunder. Anger.

[Aubrey Rose]

This bar they happened to be in was called “Earls Intoxication.” Earl…Must have been the bartender. Anyway, this specific bar had to be the most disgusting, vile bar on the block. There was about 20 drunken guys, playing the stupid game of “Let’s see who can walk out of this bar alive” game. 4 woman who each had 2 guys on each side of them and now two seventeen year olds. The room was dirt and filthy. The walls and floor were both browns. The wallpaper had begun to wear away so there were holes in random spots. Insects were buzzing everywhere, rats were hiding underneath tables. The floor had random foods and liquids spilt all over and the sinks and glasses looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in ages.

Aubrey liked her surroundings. She had been homeless for about 2 years now so the rowdy bar made her feel part of something. She knew it didn’t make sense but she liked being around people. She liked knowing there fears and seeing their reactions when put up against them. Aubrey had been living on the streets so the rancid room didn’t really bother. Suprisingly though, Aubrey was very clean and tidy, for sleeping on benches every night.

Aubrey had almost straight blonde hair. It had a few blackish/brownish streaks and it reached a little past her shoulders. She was very skinny and pale. She was more to the short side, only reaching about 5’4. Her eyes were a darker shade of icy blue. Her skin and hair were clean. The only dirty thing she had on were her boots and her jeans. Aubrey looked to the side of her, behind the counter. Her backpack, which she always carried around, was sitting on the floor. In it contained a few more sets of clothing, toothbrush, hairbrush, B’s note, and a picture of her family. Around her neck was a silver locket, which she never took off.


She heard the guy say “Impressive” and she glanced at him. She tried to make eye contact but he was avoiding her gaze. She took a deep breath and looked away. She swung jumped off the counter and looked for more drinks. She looked out the window when the thunder rang out. She glanced out him and tried to get eye contact again but he was still avoiding her.

“Strange weather…huh?”

She found this kid strange. He looked like a rich guy shopping for a boat or a car. But alas he was in a dirty, run down, disgusting bar. Why? She was always talking to people. Call her friendly in a weird, scary sort of way. She loved to find out what a person was like and then find out their fear and use it against them. She fed off people’s fear. It was like a drug for her. The scent was as strong and as tangible to her like smoke. The drug seeped through her veins and surrounded her body. She always got a little irritable and crabby when she didn’t terrorize someone.

This is how she survived. She still didn’t know to control her power completely but she had gotten it more stable the past few years.

She looked at the guy again. She wanted to know his story. She wanted to know his past but more importantly, she wanted to know his fear. She glanced at him again and leaned against the wall, vodka bottle in hand.