#unfortunately coil is to blame for scarfs arm

[caffstrink]

Drew 2 of my sonic ocs a week ago. The failure psychic and the child prodigy who used to be neighbors in a clandestine experiments lab

[box-of-muses]

Shall extract based on events happening with a high school AU RP with - @mysmemuses No matter how pure she may believe him to be, he knew all too well how tainted his soul truly was. It did not matter, of course. His ‘devil’ only flew free when people he loved got hurt by those who enjoyed the sick twisted fantasy of pushing the ‘weak’ around.

At the age of thirteen, he had taken his first life. Vanderwood was beyond any type of salvation but he’d chosen not to lose himself to the darkness either. Instead - he was more like a tightly sprung coil - ready to strike if the need arisen. And that night was such a need. A few days had passed since he had sat holding Rika between his arms, gentle words and touches unable to take aware the pain and fear that was present within her voice, to take away the self-hate that dripped from every word she spoke. Even though she had been a victim, bullied into acting out - to defend herself, she had laid there in tears, blaming herself for every wrong thing to have ever happened. He had been unable to do anything but to listen and to try and comfort - but Vanderwood's skill with words wasn’t his greatest asset and at times he had to wonder if he was doing any good or just adding to the girl's confusion. He sighed, blowing out the smoke from the cigarette that he’s lit a few moments earlier, deep brown eyes searching through the crowd of students below from where he sat half hidden within the treetops that hung over the side of the school walls. Security concerns were the least of his problems - these overlooked issues were what made this place the best type of hideout that he had found for over a year now. Though there was no use in pretending. He stayed here for Rika’s sake too. He was placing himself at risk, the longer that he stuck around - yet he knew that he wasn’t going anywhere - not until that girl could stand on her own two feet. Not until she’d found that strength inside that he had been trying to show she had from day one. He could do nothing to help protect her against her parents. But against the other students? Well - he wasn’t gifted with words, but his fists were another story altogether. Now - he was no thug. A stalker perhaps, spying on his possible victims for well over a month in advance, taking in all the wrongdoings that the small group of boys seemed to enjoy taking part in. Rika was far from the only girl being bullied by these fools and only when it seemed as though they might go too far did he make some type of noise to make them scatter. He wasn’t about to allow them to attack anyone if he was nearby but he had seen enough to reassure himself that this was the correct action to take. A simple beating would not be enough. He needed to send the entire school a message. Anyone who laid a finger on Rika or attempted to bully her in order to get some ‘weird’ reaction, would suffer the same fate as these boys. A bit extreme, perhaps - and no doubt he would end up attracting the type of attention that he had been hoping to keep away from. His family would hear about this, but this was a risk worth taking. To see that smile shine on his Angels face at least once more. To know that if he were to ever vanish - Rika would be able to stand on her own two feet. The night was new, a dull light still present in the sky, the silence of the playground broken only by the scraping of a metal pole being dragged along the wall as he wandered around towards the back of the building. He knew now that the three boys often met there on friday nights - to share out their ‘winnings’ from the past weeks bullying. He could already hear their muffled arguments - one boy complaining loudly about being tricked while another spoke of a strange hooded figure that seemed to always be around, watching over ‘their girls’. Vanderwood rolled his eyes slightly, tugging his hood up as he walked out into their pathway - smirking behind his scarf, well Rika’s scarf, at the silence to greet him. He supposes he must have been some sight. A tall, scruffy looking male, wearing torn clothing that looked as though it had seen better days, a long floral scarf covering half his face while he bounced a steel pipe between his hands - eyes taking in each of the ground in turn. He could see that they were shocked, unsure on how to take him. One, the skinniest and smallest, burst out into laughter and pointed at the scarf he worse. “Isn’t that the crazy bitches?” He barely had time to blink through as Vanderwood’s patience snapped right there and then, a sickening crunch like noise being heard a split second before a blood-curdling scream split through the night sky as the pipe struck out and landed with force into the speakers kneecap, the young man crumpling to the ground in agony as Vanderwood quickly moved away from the punches thrown at him from the other two. The fast one was down a lot quicker than he had anticipated - pipe tossed off to one side as he instead begun to narrowly avoid the blows sent in his direction. “You crazy bastard! My father’s a cop”, one yelled. Not that the threat meant much to him. His father was even worse than a cop and besides, he was here for Rika’s sake. He didn’t care much about how this man pan out for him. He glanced down towards where the skinny kid had curled up hugging into his broken leg. Good. Two against one - and these two would be made to suffer even worse. A blow landed on the side of his cheek, forcing him to have to listen to the gleeful laughter of the one who had struck him, the other managing to hit his side. But all this was a ploy, a way to both make them have a false belief of his ability and for him to learn about there’s. He was a quick learner - watching how they moved, how slow certain cuts and kicks came - how they used one another to try and give him as little opening as possible in which to react. Unfortunately for them, he wasn’t just some street rat. He was trained in martial arts from an early age and though they may be designed to help more in self-defense - they could easily be turned into a deadly weapon too. Not that he wished to kill anyone. If he had his way - his uncle would be the only life he ever took - but something told him that would not be the case. However - for now, he simply wished to send these bastards to the nearest hospital. A grin formed, hidden behind his scarf as he suddenly sidestepped out of their range, narrowing avoiding a fist to the eye, only to chuckle as the two idiots ended up landing their blows on one another instead. He was still silent. Watching as the skinny kid continued to hug into his leg and as the other two boys rubbed at their new injuries, glares being sent in his direction. Oh. He’d pissed them off? Seemed as though the dance was over then. Pity. He was going to let them play for a bit longer - but he noticed that one of the vile scum had managed to get blood on his scarf and his small amount of self-control snapped. What followed next would differ between reports. All three of the boys would speak of a ‘smiling’ monster who moved a quick as the wind, who showed no mercy as he rained punches and kicks down upon their bodies with very little mercy, floral printed scarf hiding most of his face but the grin could be ‘felt’ somehow. They spoke of a dangerous aura and whispers of Rika’s ‘guard dog’ spread throughout the campus at an alarming rate. One of the small group was on crutches for months later and was reported to suffer from nightmares - often claiming to see his attacker around the school grounds yet no one ever seemed able to pinpoint such a presence. Another of the small group was in the hospital for a few weeks and was moved to a new school upon his release while the remaining boy did everything to avoid being alone for too long and avoiding Rika as much as was possible. It wasn’t as if Vanderwood got out of it without any type of injury. A few blows had found their mark and hiding such pain from Rika was rather difficult - explaining the blood on her scarf had meant that he couldn’t hide from what he had done. Not that he would have been able to anyways. Even he had heard rumours about Rika’s ‘crazed guard dog’ and all he did was lurking in the shadows most of the day. Well, it didn’t matter. It had the desired effect of making Rika’s life a little easier and allowed him to work more during the day since he knew that Rika would be safe enough alone at school. Besides - Crazed Guard Dog had a somewhat nice ring to it.