Tibalt Rhymes (Flux)

Tibalt was born in Czechoslovakia. Raised as a simple wheat farmer Tibalt was a decently educated lad. His family's farm was financially  successful enough to support his passions for learning. His family even had enough money to purchase him glasses when his eyesight proved to be an issue. Not opposed to a hard days labor he can easily be described as a book worm with a farmers tan.

Tibalt was a good lad and never strayed too far from home. He found a love for books and for girls. Though he never had the courage to express the second. He even went as far as learning how to speak French in the hopes it would one day allow him to earn the favor of a girl. He was a quaint handsome boy admired for his intelligence and work ethic. The meek lad was soon a catch.

Life was happy in Czechoslovakia, food bountiful and Tibalts world could not be better. The year was 1939 and Tibalt was finally getting the courage to offer sweet poetic words to Lydia Kolsky. Lydia was a gorgeous brown haired woman with bespeckled cheeks and a rather shapely form. She was a potter and a very good one. Tibalt was saving up the money to even gift her a new wheel to work on.

Saddly his love was lost, as was his family, as was everyone. In the year 1939 the german forces rolled over Czechoslovakia like a plague. They came in determined to reclaim the land they saw as theirs. Thoose that stood against them were obliterated, thoose that cowered were abused, and thoose that fled... fled for their lives with hell at their heels.

Tibalt was the one who fled. He fled as his sister was gunned down. He fled as his Mothers skull was bashed in with the kettle. He fled as his Father held up his pistol and demanded the nazi's leave the farm. Tibalt still remembers the texture and moisture of his blood coating his legs. The slimey squish of his family's blood seeped into his socks.

Tibalt ran till his legs screamed... he ran and ran and ran. Finally the day came when his muscles and his eyes could not take it any longer. He was near a train track and a old storage shed of some sort for a larger facility nearby. The cold steel and concrete his only blanket as his world collapsed in on itself.

His dreams were spiraling visions composed of black gossamer. How? Why? Faint visions of what he lost. There was a raspy voice that spoke out like crushed leaves on a winter wind. "StAnd LAd, sTanD uP yOu sUllEn bOY!"

Tibalt frantically stands to find the bright sun beaming through a crack in the roof. There was a distinct smell of grease and smoke. What an awful dream... was all Tibalt could think as his eyes came in and out of focus. He opened the door and there was no one in sight and the smell lingered. Tibalt sighed and laid his back against the wall of the shed and slid down his shirt fraying slightly against the coarse metal. "What am I going to do.... I... I have no where to go. I... I.. oh god!" Tibalt took his boots and socks off and went to a spicket pumping out water and washing till the sun was high. The delirium of stress and exhaustion made him cling to that spicket.

"God help me.... help me." Dark came and then day again. The world passed without Tibalt and his dreams once more became that of black gossamer. When he came too once again he felt off. His voice was weak and his thirst unquenchable. The world was so loud that he could hear a butterfly suffocating in the greasy caustic air.

Tibalt stood shoe-less and ran along the track till he came across soldiers once again. It took a great deal of will to avoid coughing or crying in pain at the sound of their jack boots against the ground. This was his existence till he found himself in a mildly safe town still not fully occupied by the Axis forces.

Tibalt bartered his way through Austria under a fake name and managed to get in contact with a good forger. The documents allowed him to get through the ally border and he was finally free of the Axis dogs that nipped at his heels for two years. He desperately needed to get to hospital due to whatever afflictions were affecting his hearing, voice, and brain chemistry. When he got to Cannes he was admitted to L'Hôpital de St. Mairie and quickly found himself questioning the doctors intentions.

The doctors could not release Tibalt; but, they did have somewhere to send him. He was sent to England to be examined by the Extraordinary's recruitment group. Tibalt was excited to go to England. The city was massive and though he was escourted the whole time he actually could feel less afraid. Still unable to speak above a whisper and brutalized by nearly every noise the doctors took him under a microscope.

Over time the doctors and Tibalt discovered his powers and once he had obtained some semblance of control the proposition of fighting his former assailants under his countries name was offered. The idea of meeting other extraordinary's and making a difference appealed to Tibalt. His life was gone... his family.... Lydia. But, he was ready to give the future a good try.

He would go on later to meet Lucia aka Uriella at the L'Hôpital de St. Mairie Hospital.