RP (non-canon) Evaluation and Proprioception of Vis'thraugh, Araan.

[Wolfe Whitehorn]

Sitting down in the cold dark armory, the man known as Araan Vis'thraugh stopped, he weighed his current physiological state. A temporary separation from duty aboard the YSS AEON had been afforded him for his latest issue, but it left the man feeling beaten, broken, and somewhat unreliable. He propped the Zen Arms Infantry Battle Rifle at his knees and removed the magazine, then pulling the bolt to make sure there was no chambered round. It had been some time since the formerly Nepleslian man had utilized the rifle, longer still since he had remembered actually loading it, but still, when it came to firearms safety should be prevalent. Moving the emptied rifle he set the buttstock between his ankles and leaned forward on the barrel of the rifle somewhat. This action was more so that he could inspect the dorsal profile of the rifle, but also a sign of his mental fatigue, a sign of a wearing mind, of the underlying problems, but still he didn't let it all break down. He couldn't, not yet. Araan still had much to prove and a lot of operational errors to own up to.

At this exact moment the words of his operational psychiatrist cropped into his mind, how easily they seemed to flow into his every waking thought these days. He had to keep going, he had much more ahead of him and much more to own up to even if he felt he didn't. His problems were all of his own creation, his own demons. He brought them about in his own tormented way, the others aboard the AEON didn't deserve to suffer from his mental break. Then his thoughts drifted back, to his childhood. The days spent running the streets while his parents slaved away to make sure he had what he needed to survive.

Back then, things were much different. Back then, he was still alive. . .