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Rogues
By: wynthe

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Characters

infinite beast/b2st mblaq superjunior shinee (+ other idol groups)

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Description

Rogues or Genetically Advanced/Altered Beings (GAB for short).

The modern world is teeming with them; people who are advanced through genetic manipulation, either from birth or later (and both have their own effects). How it came to happen, none but a select few know, but now there’s a constant war going on, over something that nobody but theManics know.

Manics
An English term used to describe the Leaders of the Bonds under their command.

The Manics control a Bond, a group of rogues – genetically advanced people – and send them on missions (read: assassinations, undercover ops, etc) to get further in the mystery game behind the scene.

Bond
An English term used to describe a group of Rogues in control of a Manic, ranging from as little to as many people the Manic can control. Size means nothing. The strength of an individual can outweigh the number.

How many Manics or Bonds there are is unknown. Some make themselves known, make a reputation to be feared or worshipped by the public. Others lie low, in waiting until their trap is sprung.

Others are just beginning.

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Genre

Action, Romance, Suspense

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Number of Chapters

So far, 9

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Teaser

Wynth – fifteen – on the inside of her cheek and sighed, leaning back in her seat as she scribbled on the paper in front of her. Her desk was a mess; forms, clipboards and files scattered everywhere, her overflowing pencil case now hidden amongst the parchments. The yellow glow from the desk-lamp was narrowed solely on what she was writing on, as it was dark in her room and it was night outside.

Raising an eyebrow from boredom – and second thoughts – she signed her name and wrote the date, looking away instantly so she wouldn’t have to see the form again. She knew that if she did, she’d doubt herself again – for like the millionth time.

Her chair creaked as she stood, grabbed the forms and lumbered over to her porter – a device similar to a fax, but sent forms via teleportation through keyed postal code. Clicking the ‘go’ button, she sighed again, staggered to her bed and collapsed into it, groaning in annoyance when she realised she forgot to turn off her desk light.

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The black-haired receptionist fiddled with her pen between her fingers as she read the form sent to her from one Wynth, mere minutes ago. Finishing reading the ‘resume’, she started typing frantically at her computer, before printing off another form and stapling them together, putting it aside for the morrow; when the Doctor came in.

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3 years later….

Eighteen year old Wynth stared at the papers in front of her, eyes glazing as her mind wandered elsewhere for a moment before she snapped back to attention. Her green eyes lifted to scrutinise the man beyond the papers, sitting on his large black wheely chair behind the desk in front of her.

‘The Doctor’, as he was so aptly named, stared back, even tilting his head downwards to leer at the brunette seated opposite him, and not saying a word. His simple gesture, though, frazzled Wynth, and she in a breath as she leaned back in her seat.

“Are you sure?” she asked, narrowing her eyes and crossing her legs.

“I wouldn’t have submitted it to you, if I was not,” Doctor responded tersely.

Wynth fought the urge to scoff in disbelief. She was hardly responsible enough for this, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to follow through with it, but she had no choice – not really, anyway. Someone was pulling her leg behind the scenes, through the Doctor, and so she had to comply, and frankly, she didn’t really want to know what would happen if she didn’t.

“Fine,” she mumbled, dragging her eyes about the room. In the back of her mind, she criticised the bland appearance of the white room, and its lack of originality. But he was the Doctor, so he could always pass the grey-white walls and simple but oddly rainbow coloured furniture placed throughout his office.

“Did you read it thoroughly?” he asked, a tone of amusement in his voice.

Wynth tensed her jaw. No, she hadn’t. She never did properly read the papers given to her, at any time. And so she slapped her sight back at the beginning to read – carefully.

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