#A strength of any piece of art is when it causes extreme reactions and starts conversations

[emotinalsupportturtle]

sometimes a piece of media gets praised too much that I loose some appreciation for it (maybe because it raises expectations). The star beast however, is a piece of media which I love more every time I see it criticized on mainstream social media

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || LITTLE CAGED ARTIST

| featuring : ryomen sukuna ft. itadori yuji 

| warnings : mention of emotional abuse and murder as well as grammar errors

| form : imagine

| word count : 1691

| published : 22 december

| request : Hello, idk if your request are open but feel free to ignore, but just, imagine another reencarnation au (those imaginw of yours are my favourite) where the reader was a painter and Sukuna's personal favourite so he took her and kinda abused her psycologicaly to the point where she would just draw him and only him and he loved that, and in the future she's still an artist that draws Yuuji bc theyre friends but when she sees the tatoos she again draws Sukuna and he feels guilty for the way he treated her and her art in the pastIf It's angst i would apreciate but it's not really necesary

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ right now it is nearly 5am in the morning and i have no idea why the hell i am awake, but oh well ʕ ��� ᴥ ᵒʔ  DONT WORRY THOUGH! after this, i am going to sleep and rest up since today it is Fushiguro Megumi’s and Kageyama Tobio’s birthday today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Sukuna….please leave me alone...leave the village alone, I beg of you please,” you whimpered to the man that was standing tall and proud with a sadistic smirk painted on his face, while you were on your knees tightly holding onto his large wrist - somewhat slightly covering the black ring marking - as if your weak physical strength could do anything to stop his raising them up and giving a rain upon hell to the people that was residing in the small town you lived in.

You have no idea how you had managed to catch the attention of the most feared curse to both humans and jujutsu sorcerers nor did you know how you managed to become acquainted with the man in front of you. All you knew right now was that the situation you were in at this current moment and time, was not ideal to anyone at all.

You were just a simple artist. A simple village girl artist that was blessed to be hired by the nobility and aristocracy to paint their family portraits with the finest colours that they would offer you, for you to be then paid so you could provide for your village. However, as luxurious as it sounded, you were in love with the idea of just placing a sharped piece of charcoal on a piece of paper or cloth you could find anywhere and sketch your heart designed.

“Leave you alone?” Sukuna questioned you in his deep voice, before slowly crouching down to become face to face with you. “I could never leave you alone, not when you have caught my attention with your craft little one,” Sukuna then stated, as he gently placed a hand on your cheek before using his thumb to caress the soft skin he was touching. 

Ever since Sukuna had caught sight of you delicately painting a portrait of a noblewoman with such care and gentleness, he couldn’t help but wonder how your hands were so carefully and how patient you were to make sure every stroke was perfect to your desire. Slowly, he began to wonder what it was like to be the subject of one's view. A subject that someone desired to recreate on a simple piece of paper. However, compared to his past sightings, you were the most talented as well as the most beautiful he had ever seen and once he was able to gain a clear view of the noble woman that you were illustration, he was surprised at how much detail you were able to encapture in your work and just like the noble woman’s reaction, they both were extremely happy with the result of the final product.

“How about this?” Sukuna suddenly asked, causing your head to suddenly shot up leading you to meet eye to eye with the King of Curses, “if you come with me and draw me and me only for the rest of time, I would leave this little village alone as well as the people residing in it. How does that sound, little one?”

‘Come with him? Where? Why? What’s going to happen to me?’

“If you don’t accept this deal, every single person here will die. Burned, stabbed, slashed, any way possible I can. Men, women and even little children’s lives will be gone, and it would be all your fault.”

‘My….fault? But-’

“You know I’m not a patient person little one, I might as well start my massacre while you take your time to think, it will be-”

“NO PLEASE! DON’T, YOU CAN TAKE ME, JUST LEAVE THE VILLAGE ALONE, PLEASE!” you screamed in desperation, as you tighten the grip of his wrist that was within your grasp to keep him down, as you didn’t want to risk him getting away from your sights for the safety and protection of the people  within the little town you had lived in since the day your life had started.

With a large cruel grin, Sukuna had somehow managed to pry his wrists free from your tense grip before sliding an arm under your knees as well as an arm around your body lifting you up in a bridal position, while you were just expressing a face of shock and fear, confused and fearful on what you had just accepted in exchange for your life. Where were you going? Was this the end? Were you going to die? How much longer have you had left?

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, you’re too precious to be slaughtered little one,” Sukuna answered - as if he knew what you were thinking - before placing a ghostly kiss upon your temple leading you to freeze still, petrified on what he would do with you had moved a single inch.

This was your life now. 

A caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

Here you were, sitting on a wooden platform outside with a sharpened piece of charcoal that Sukuna had kindly given you, in order for you to sketch a portrait of him. The second you placed the charcoal upon the paper, Sukuna couldn’t help but stare at the light movements of your hand as you lightly stroke a few lines to create an outline before watching your hand suddenly pause, causing the King of Curses to switch his view from the sheet to you, only to find your look at him with such a frightened look.

“I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t look at you, should I? I apologise deeply,” you softly muttered before quickly turning back to the portrait that was right in front of you - you didn’t want to do anything wrong in his eyes, you knew he could go back on his words and harm the people that you cared about. However, it seemed like Sukuna didn’t care at all, he had managed to trap you into his life and had the power to demand you to draw him every time he would mention he could go back to your little village and burn it to the ground. He relished in the idea of being the subject of your attention.

This is what he wanted. 

His little caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

1000 years later and here you were. 

Here you were sketching a picture of your best-friend Itadori with a picture of him that you had managed to capture on your phone. Itadori first came into your life shortly after you had enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Techincal College around the same time as your other classmate Kugisaki did. 

You have no idea what drew you into the boy with the pink hair, but something within you pulled you towards him causing the blooming and somewhat hilarious friendship to start, even causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to wonder what was going on in your mind to somehow relate to the boy - yet, they didn’t mention their questions since they didn’t really think you knew the answer yourself, and they were correct.

However, as you continued to smoothly glide your pencil across the page, applying different pressures to construct some definitions as well as shadows within the photo you were copying from, you began to suddenly realise that you were starting to draw marking upon his portrait. Markings that were so familiar to the ones the person within him had.

Ever since that day at the Eishu Detention Centre, the sight of Sukuna standing in front of you with his shirt ripped off showcasing his black marking caused a trigger of unknown memories to suddenly flood into your mind, causing excruciating pain that was so unbearable, you thought you were going to pass out from the intense pressure, maybe as even close to dying from the immense pain.

From what you could even recall from the sudden flood of blurry images that appeared in your mind, there was a picture of you drawing with a piece of charcoal with the infamous King of Curses seating right beside you, watching you draw will whispering in your ear the threats that he would bombard you in order for you to make sure that you were only drawing him and him only.

Slowly but in a shaking manner, your drawing hand continued to sketch in Sukuna’s markings that would appear on Itadori’s body as you were somewhat extremely afraid of what the King of Curses could do to you if you didn’t - just how you left 1000 years ago.

Although unknown to you, your best-friend Itadori was standing right behind you, having a clear view of what was happening to you as well as the drawing right in front of him. Seeing your shaking figure with slow but clear teardrops landing on the sketch book as well as the drawing evolving from him to the curse residing inside of him, made him realise how damaging Sukuna was to not only him but also to the people around him. Carefully, Itadori placed a hand over your hand that held the pencil, causing you to flinch before finally noticing that it was your friend that was holding it and not the special grade curse.

Within his Innate Domain, Sukuna also had a clear view on what was happening to you and slowly but strangely began to feel something drop to his stomach with the feeling of his throat closing up at the sight of you slowly breaking down into a small state of insanity. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want his beautiful little one to become lifeless and paranoid like you were now.

Even after 1000 years after your death, your incarnation was carrying the feeling of fear, despair and numbness that you were weighed upon the second you had given your life away to the King of Curses for the sake of your village. Even though you had more freedom then you did then, you still left trapped and lost within the metal cage that Sukuna had enclosed you in. Even with the small hint of guilt that was manifested within the cruel curse’s heart. 

You were trapped with no escape out.

You were trapped forever with no key to open the door that was clearly right in front of you.

Forever his little caged artist.

[manireads]

freelancer 6.1, changkyun x reader

an: I broke this one into two parts because I really just wanted to post something. also got a lil lazy towards the end. 

word count: 1860

warnings for mentions of blood and makeshift surgery i guess.

She froze, the feeling of her own consciousness floating above her. Her eyes went a little blurry as she tried to focus on the situation at hand. His voice became instantly recognizable, even after not hearing it for three years, and threw her thoughts into a flurry. She never thought she’d see him again and definitely not like this. 

“Changkyun,” She spoke breathlessly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He groaned, moving his head to look up at her with blurry eyes as she shuffled closer to him. The harsh light from the hallway light framed her adding a halo around her. Angelic, he thought. A smile came to mind but he couldn’t will it to his face because of the immense pain that he was in. Instantly, the harsh throbbing in his body, he let out another strained groan as he fought to keep himself awake, slumping down further against the wall. His arm dropped to his side and she could see what was causing all of his pain. A wound, on his abdomen and it was bleeding profusely. 

She jumped in shock, “Wha - what the fuck? Were you shot?” She asked and received no intelligible answer. Changkyun instead mumbled something and rocked his head back and forth. She pulled his shirt up and away from his injury to get a closer look. As she’d expected, a bullet wound not any bigger than 10 mm. She steeled her nerves before taking a look at the wound closer. She couldn’t see the back end of the bullet. It was deep inside of him and that was going to be a problem. 

“Changkyun,” She called to him and she covered him with his shirt again. She looked over his face. His eyes hazed over with pain and brimmed with un-cried tears. “Changkyun,” She waited for him to respond back. “I’m going to go get my phone. We need to call the ambulance.” She said moving up away from his crumpled form on the floor. But before she could he mustered up all the strength he could, jolted to her and grabbed her arm, stopping her but sending waves of intense pain through his side. 

“No” His hoarse voice shouted out. She was dumbfounded.

“Changkyun, you’ve been shot!” She exclaimed but remembering where she was she lowered her voice. She had been trying to keep herself calm, invoking her doctor’s persona. But with Changkyun showing up unexpectedly, hurt, and now refusing actual help, it was enough to make her want to pull her hair out. “You need medical attention. Now, is not the time for you to be a stubborn bastard.” She stirred to get up but he held onto her arm. She wanted to remove his hand but she could see that his eyes were nearly closed and his mouth mumbling words. She moved closer to his face putting her ear to his mouth. 

“Please Y/N, don’t call. Just help me out right now.” He begged in a strained voice. “I’m not going to make it if you leave me here. Please, it hurts so much.”

She looked down at him, seeing him in so much pain made tears come to her eyes. Her breath became ragged as she watched his eyes close, pain still written all over his face. He was still breathing but his breath had become extremely shallow. She couldn’t keep her composure and quiet tears slipped from her eyes and fell down her face.

“Fuck,” She whispered out, removing herself from him. She shakily made her way back into the apartment looking down the small hallway inside. She could still hear Sojung’s loud music playing from her from her room. As long as she didn’t come out of her room she could move Changkyun into her room and go from there. She puts turns to put a stopper in the door before returning to his side. She wrapped her arms around his body, making sure to steer clear of his injury.

“Okay,” She braced getting ready to use her strength to pull him up. “I need you to stay quiet, Sojung can’t know I'm bringing you in here.” She didn’t get a response from him, not even a strained muffle and it made her heart quicken in panic. In one fell swoop she brought him up to nearly standing position, almost falling before centering his body weight with her own. Slowly, she shuffled through her open door and down the hallway to her bedroom. “Alright, we’re almost there,” She whispered to him, beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead. The two of them were in the home stretch, already passing the living room and the kitchen and just making it past Sojung’s bedroom door on the left hand side. Her bedroom was just past the hall closet on the right side, right before the bathroom that sat at the end of the hallway. Before she knew it she was shuffling through her door, Changkyun in tow. 

She placed him on the bed before checking his breathing. He’s breathing but it’s so soft. Barely even there, She noted, before exiting the room. She ran back to the front door checking in the building’s hallway to see if any evidence of Changkyun was left, thankfully, nothing was there so she closed the door and locked it before moving to Sojung’s room. Y/N needed to make sure that she wouldn’t come into her room. She knocked on the door and waited for a muffled come in over all the music before opening the door. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Sojung said, turning from her art that was in front of her. It was a large canvas that she had propped up against her wall, the undone painting seemed to be of the Seoul skyline at night but it looked skewed and offset. She grabbed her phone, and turned down the music that was blasting through her speakers. 

“Nothing much, I’m just going to head off to bed.”

“This early?” Sojung questioned, not knowing Y/N to really be the type to hit the hay before 1 am.

“Yeah, I’ve got a meeting to go to in the morning before my shift so I need to wake up early for it tomorrow” The lie running off of Yn’s tongue with ease.

“Oh, should I turn the music down for you?”

“Oh no no,” Y/N acted, pushing off her concerns. “I'm probably going to listen to some asmr or something till I fall asleep. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Okay then, goodnight Y/N” Soojung said, sending her friend a soft smile.

“Night” Y/N mimicked Sojung and smiled back, even sending her a little wave before closing the door to her room. Y/N waited for a heated moment for Sojung to turn her music back on before rushing back into her own room. Once inside, she locked the door and turned on her desk lamp, pointing it at her bed. 

Changkyun laid on her bed almost completely still, the sight of him almost lifeless made Y/N panic. But she took deep breaths to calm down, reminding herself of all the training that she had gone through. Y/N rummaged through her supplies that she had in her room. Some of it was medical supplies that she had used during college on dummies that they had allowed her to take home, some of it was things that she had brought on the internet with a discount that her job had given her. She grabbed the thing she would need to help him like gauze, towels, large tweezers, skin glue and antiseptic fluid and cream. She carefully took off his blazer and started unbuttoning his shirt when he started to stir in her grasp and his breathing became heavier and more weighted. Y/N watched as his eyes strained open and he looked around the room. 

“Hey, I asked you to help me out, not help yourself.” His voice came out strained and rough but she welcomed it. It was a good sign that he wasn’t on the brink of death like she had assumed and had enough strength in him to still be his annoyingly witty self. 

“Shut up, I need to be able to see what I’m doing.” He wanted to laugh at her reaction but his wound made it too painfully. “I need you to breathe slowly and deeply, okay?”  Changkyun nodded as she took off his shirt and re-positioned him on the bed. She tossed the two items on the floor before grabbing a pair of latex gloves and putting them on.  She tied two pieces of gauze tightly around his abdomen, above and below the gunshot, to stop most of the bleeding. Then she started to inspect the gunshot. With gentle fingers, she pressed around the injury to see if she could locate the bullet and when Changkyun flinched and groaned, she knew she had found it. She turned to grab her tweezers and sanitize them, ready to remove it when he spoke up.

“Wait, wait,” He sounds exasperated, the remnants of pain not leaving his face. “You’re just going to go in? No morphine? No nothing?”

“Well maybe if you had let me take you to the hospital, I could get you all that but I don’t have any of that stuff here. You’re going to have to tough it out, babe.” 

Y/N didn’t realize that the world slipped out until it was already hanging in the air. Turned back to him and thankfully for her, his head was facing the other way. She waited for him to say something but he hadn’t reacted to what she said. Not a little quip or snarky comment, or even a grunt from him. So she decided there wasn’t a reason to address it. Besides, she had to focus on the task at hand. She scooted back to the bed in her chair and carefully inserted the tweezers in his side using her hand as a guide. 

She had found that the bullet was pointed outwards and if it had more momentum it would exited his body. She wished it had because this would have been an easier job to do than to watch his face scrunch up in pain every time she pulled on the bullet but finally she got it out. From what she could tell, it had hit no major arteries or organs.The only thing now was the healing process and hopefully avoiding infection. She cleaned the wound and dressed it antiseptics before closing the wound with skin glue. She cleaned it again before covering it up with gauze and wrapping his whole lower abdomen.

She cleaned up, taking all the bloodied materials used and either cleaning them or sneakily throwing them down the trash chute in the building. When she returned back to her room, Changkyun had already fallen asleep. His chest raised and fell at a slow but steady pace and after watching him intensely for over 10 minutes, she figured that he was stable enough for her to get some sleep as well. 

[fallstreakfeathers]

OM! Mc sheet

(update 7/18/20- information has been updated)

(form by @/luciferasmr   )

Name: Kita (she never gives a surname, but it’s legally Bertrand)

Nickname (if any): n/a 

Age: 23

Height: 5’5’’

Weight: 175Ib

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Birthdate: June 27

Star Sign: Cancer

Hair color: Medium Brown

Eye color: dark blue/green

Skin tone: light

Which sin are they like?

wrath

gluttony

greed

envy

pride

sloth

lust

(rest is under the cut because it gets super long) 

Personality Traits: Let’s start with the negative, because it’s what’s seen the most in the first parts of Don’t Look Down: Kita has a very difficult time expressing most of her emotions correctly, partially because of her social anxiety and general nervousness. She’s afraid of social rejection, so she tends to isolate herself. She fears and doesn’t understand her own emotions, and is often even disgusted by them (particularly lust). Because of this, she’s prone to episodes of self-loathing and degrading herself. It isn’t exaggerating to say that fear rules much of Kita’s life. A lot of this behavior is due to her previous home situations and the way she grew up. Kita is easily spooked by rage and tends to automatically think that if someone’s angry it’s because of something she did. She has a hard time trusting others and when her trust is gained she can easily fall back into distrust weeks/months/years after the fact, even if she has no solid reason to. She does want to be able to express who she really is, but she often cannot get past her fears and probably won’t without help. Her disappointment in herself manifests itself as anger and causes her to snap at others or become snarky. She tends to treat others exactly how they treat her, regardless of the consequences. She believes that respect must be earned, and that simply demanding it is the quickest way to not get it. Kita is touch-starved, a result entirely of her own behavior, but frequently rejects any show of physical affection because of the way she sees herself and because she isn't used to it and doesn't understand the emotions it gives her or how to process them. It’s easier for her to pretend that she doesn’t deserve love and affection and to try to make herself as dislikeable and shut off as she can than attempt to take a risk and end up hurt. This is something she struggles with throughout Don’t Look Down.  It isn’t a stretch to say that she’s constantly at war with herself and her own mind. This makes her susceptible to demons/etc that can manipulate the mind and her perception of the world around her.

Kita tends to hold very strong grudges if she feels she was wronged. Fortunately, it’s also (usually) fairly easy to get her forgiveness. On the flip side: She is incredibly loyal and protective of anyone who has managed to gain even a bit of her trust. When she loves someone, she loves very deeply and wholly. Due to her sensitivity to certain emotions, she is able to read moods fairly well and act accordingly. She finds it fairly easy to tell when someone is lying to her, although she rarely does anything about it but keep it in mind. Kita dislikes liars and is not a confrontational person unless angered. She’d rather know the truth, no matter how hard it is, than to catch someone being dishonest. She does not trust the Exchange Program, or Diavolo. Kita is extremely energetic and fun-loving within the safety of her mind, where she doesn’t have to fear others reactions. She likes to joke and snark with others. Kita currently shows her affection in small ways ( giving Beel treats from his favorite shop after a game, listening to Levi rant about TSL, etc) but will start showing physical affection as she becomes more comfortable. She has a strong urge to please others, and is usually pretty dependable. She doesn’t mind getting caught up in plot and schemes so long as it doesn’t pose a threat to her. She enjoys helping, even if the help is as small as retrieving a tool for someone. She actually really likes to wrestle and roughhouse with friends, and has a strong curiosity for the supernatural and for most new things. Despite being human, there isn’t much she wouldn’t be willing to do or lengths she wouldn’t go for those she cared for- even in a place as dangerous as the Devildom.

Background: Kita hates talking about her history, and actively brushes off questions about it with sarcastic remarks. (CW: mentions of abuse, alcohol, depression, anxiety. Kita has a shitty history with people and her family. ) Ages 1-11: Kita didn’t grow up in a supportive environment. Both her parents were alcoholics, and while she was never abused physically, the mental stress took a toll on her growing up and her ability to cope with things and express herself in a healthy way. Her father was a manipulative narcissist who frequently brought others down to bring himself up. As such, Kita grew up with a father who wanted nothing to do with her aside from her to stay out of his way and take care of the house. He often lied about his family to others to paint himself a victim. He frequently became drunk, only to shout and argue, sometimes for hours into the night. She always hid to avoid his rage. She has a very vivid memory of being woken up one night to this fighting and hearing him tell her mother that he did not love Kita and her twin. She has never forgotten. Kita, at 23, cannot be around drunk people without having dizzying anxiety. Her mother was better, but overly emotional and focused on her own feelings rather than her children's. All her mother's stressors were blamed on everyone else instead of her own behavior. She always had it worse than Kita and her twin, always ‘knew better’ than them, etc. While Kita was much closer to her mother than her father, she felt she could not trust her with talking about her own problems because of the way her feelings were often brushed off or marked as her being dramatic or over sensitive. She learned to bottle her emotions up in her childhood and to push them down until she would finally break, and then the process would repeat. Kita was 12 when she started telling herself she wasn’t worth anyone's time, and with nobody who would correct her, these thoughts only got worse and more destructive with time. She tended to fill the void she felt in herself with an excess of food and physical items. The food became habit and she struggles with her weight and physical image, although to a smaller extent than her mentality. Kita grew up witnessing her father's mental and verbal abuse towards her mother, and grew wary of ever entering a relationship with another person. Instead, she substituted that want with entertaining ideas of fictional characters that she knew could never hurt her. She became deeply enthralled with fantasy novels, and read them both out of interest and because they took her to another place- even for a short period of time.  She doesn’t believe she’s ever been told by another person that they genuinely love her, and while part of that is her own fault- she also tends to believe that anyone who genuinely tells her that is lying-  it’s done a number on her self esteem. To her, it proves herself right in the negative things she tells herself. She lacked friends in most of her school years because she closed herself off and intentionally made herself unlikeable. There was a period of time where she was bullied for her interests, and she received no help from adult figures. This would be around this time, at 16, that she really lost her trust in other people. Her anxiety spiked, and her depression worsened and she rarely spoke during her 17th year. Her twin moved out at 18 and she heard less and less from him until Kita herself moved out at 20 and cut ties with most people she’d known. She remained reclusive and although her depression waned, she continued nurturing bad mental habits. She left home only to work until her arrival in the Devildom.

Why were they chosen for Devildom? Kita asks herself this almost daily. [Will be revealed in DLD]

Hobbies: - Enjoys drawing although it frequently frustrates her. She uses art as a way to get rid of emotions she otherwise couldn’t handle. - She likes finding places to hide. It comforts her to know that she has places she can disappear should things get nasty, and the House of Lamentation is certainly full of hiding places.

Likes: - Storms. A good thunderstorm and a cup of tea tend to calm her better than anything, though she certainly wasn’t prepared for the strength of the thunder in the Devildom. - Snark/sarcasm. She greatly enjoys passing sarcastic remarks back and forth in good-natured banter. - She listens to music to sort her moods and emotions, even if she won’t act on them. It’s become a very important kind of therapy for her to remain in control of herself. - Stones. She doesn’t like precious stones for their monetary value, but for the emotional comfort they bring her. Malachite holds a special place in her heart and she often used it to ground herself when her anxiety got too strong. She’s had a hard time without a piece of it she could mess with.

Dislikes: - Kita despises being lied to. - She can’t stand people who smoke and doesn't like being around alcohol. - Being useless or a third wheel.  - Diamonds/Rubies/other popular precious stones. She thinks they’re overrated and she feels hollow looking at them. She has a particular hatred for diamonds.

Casual Clothing

Top: Any neutral colored t-shirt.  Agaros also lends her an outfit similar to his for when they go out on their motorbikes. 

Bottoms: Grey sweats

Shoes: (dirty/stained) white tennis shoes

Accessories (if any): came to the Devildom with none. She acquires a few things, through Agaros: - A ring that monitors her heartbeat (she’s not aware of this. Agaros wanted to be able to know how she was doing when she was gone, but didn’t feel the need to draw attention to it or how much he actually enjoyed her company. The ring was very subtle and it connects to his own ring where he can feel her pulse. This does get addressed later). - An arm cuff with an enchanted moonstone that allows her to walk through areas of intense heat by forming a shield of cool air around her.

Glasses? nope.

Any alterations to their uniform? Kita’s uniform has an extra long sash that, instead of connecting to her shoulder, is long enough to dangle over it and down to her hips. She often clings to it when nervous or agitated.

Family

Mother: deceased

Father: alive

Siblings (if any): A twin, although she’s unaware if he is alive or not. Hasn’t had contact with him for years. 

Pets? None, her apartment didn’t allow it.

How many friends does your Mc have? Kita distanced herself from all friends and relatives after moving out. Agaros is the first person she has considered a ‘friend’ in at least 4 years. He’s also the first in a very long time to really begin to see who she really is behind her thorns. It’s a big part of what attracted him to her in the first place, and like his obsession with machines, he wants to continue tinkering with and figuring out how this human works.

Has your MC had a relationship before? No.

Have they been in love? Not as far as she’s aware, but she’d definitely had a few crushes...Usually on fictional characters, but occasionally a real person worms their way into her sights.

How easy do they gain crushes? Fairly easily, but she doesn’t realize it because she tends to push the emotion down.

Do they believe in love? Kita doesn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’ and openly scoffs at the idea. She believes something like that is impossible, and she won’t be swayed on that. She does believe in love itself and its ‘types’. 

What’s their type? She really couldn’t tell you. If she likes someone, she likes them. If she doesn't, she doesn't. She could be around 2 people with similar personality and morals and she could still dislike one of them and like the other. She’s not fond of flirting unless she already knows the person.

Sexuality: She never bothered trying to label herself but whatever she is, she leans towards men.

Which one of the 7 brothers does your MC like the most? Currently: Beelzebub (much) Later: Belphegor

Why ? Although originally intimidated by his size, Beel’s rather quiet disposition and his bluntness made him easy to be around because Kita didn’t need to dissect any hidden meaning in his words. He also didn’t make her feel like she had to speak or explain herself or her actions. To put it simply: she didn’t feel like he really judged her for anything she did, and that was important to her. She didn’t feel like she needed a ‘reason’ to talk to him, even if she rarely did when she first arrived, and she didn’t feel like he lied to her often. Eventually as Kita got to know him better, she became very fond of his kindness and how much he cares for his family. What traits do they look for in a partner? She has to be able to sit in a comfortable silence with whoever her potential partner is. They also need to be able to make her laugh, and she needs to be able to feel like she can be herself with them. She does not, and will never, do ‘one night stands’. She finds them wrong and dangerous.

Favorite food: most sweet food, but she’s rarely picky

Least favorite: sour pastas and anything pickled (except actual pickles)

Favorite topic in school: fond of classes where she learns about the flora and fauna of the world and about its other inhabitants. She has a particular interest in dragon and demon physiology and learning about various demons abilities. 

Least favorite topic: math, dislikes anything having to do with dissection.

Favorite color: Grey. Grey is soft and safe and reminds her of storm clouds.

Least favorite color: yellow. Too bright and in-your-face.

Do they like to be sociable or are they more of a recluse? Recluse.

Favorite movie genre? Comedy. Fantasy

Do they read a lot or no? Read a lot of fantasy before entering the Devildom. Generally reads nonfiction science/etc now that she doesn’t feel like she has the need to use fantasy novels to escape her boring reality. Reality has become a strange kind of fantasy to her.

Favorite animal: Dragons, although she previously didn’t believe they were real. Loves dogs.

Favorite genre of music: Trailer/epic orchestral tracks. 

Least favorite genre: Refuses to listen to heavy metal or opera. Also generally despises rap.

Do they like sweets?  yEAH

Do they like spicy food? Not a fan

Do they like school? She enjoys certain topics but isn’t fond of being stuck in a room with 35 other people she doesn’t know. Also isn't fond of being graded.

Pet peeves: Kita can’t stand others trying to take food off her plate. She doesn’t mind sharing, just don’t take it from her without permission. She’s smacked Beel’s hand plenty of times, and will even go so far as to grab her plate and turn her chair away from the table to eat. She also hates her arm being poked. Doesn’t like most nicknames unless she’s especially close with the person.

[acrid-heartwood]

Turning Monks into Shamans

Art by Mike "Daarken" Lim

Something that always rubbed me the wrong way in the DnD 5e, or DnD in general really, was that the Monk class was so often included into a roster of very clearly european medieval fantasy classes. Not only did they seem out of place, but out of time, since they are clearly inspired by 70s and 80s kung fu action movies, while the rest of the troupe is extremely tolkien-esque. Imagine Bruce Lee giving Sauron a roundhouse kick. If that sounds as jarring to you as to me, keep reading, because I have an idea to remedy this.

I never had a problem with the class itself, mechanically, just the flavour it tried to convey. If the standard world of DnD had stronger Asian influences, it wouldn’t bother me one bit, but as it is, monks stick out. So, I decided to simply rewrite the flavour bits of the monk, turning them into the Shaman class. With this, the class sits somewhere between a Barbarian and a Druid in flavour, using totems and spirits to imbue their body with power, but without shapeshifting radically. Shamans would also be able to multiclass into fairly easily, similar to a Warlock, simply by finding and bonding to a suitable spirit. And, naturally, losing the spirit would mean losing the supernatural abilities.

Shaman A monk reflavour Shamans are those who have suffused themselves in the spirit of the other, granting them supernatural strength, but making them live in the constant company of the supernatural. They are most often found in in the wilds, in small communities or in solitude as they wrestle with their own nature.

Using the power of spirits infused into their bodies and weapons, shamans are a spectacle to behold in battle, sometimes even forgoing weapons in favour of wielding the raw power of their partner spirit with bare fists.

Class features As a shaman, you gain the following class features.

Hit Points Hit Dice: 1d8 per soul level Hit Points at 1st Level: 8 + your Constitution Modifier Hit Points at Higher Levels: 1d8 (or 5) + your Constitution modifier per SOUL level after 1st

Proficiencies Armor: None Weapons: Simple Weapons, shortswords Tools: Choose one type of artisan’s tool or one musical instrument Saving Throws: Strength, Dexterity Skills: Choose two from Acrobatics, Athletics, History, Insight, Religion, and Stealth

Equipment You start with the following equipment, in addition to the equipment granted by your background: (a) a shortsword or (b) any simple weapon (a) a dungoneer’s pack or (b) an explorer’s pack 10 darts

Unarmored Defense Beginning at 1st level, while you are wearing no armor and not wielding a shield, your AC equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Wisdom modifier.

Spirit Bonding (Formerly Martial Arts) At 1st level, your wielding of a spirit in combat enables you to effectively empower unarmed strikes and shaman weapons, which are shortswords and any simple melee weapons that don’t have the two- handed or heavy property. You gain the following benefits while you are unarmed or wielding only shamanic weapons and you aren’t wearing armor or wielding a shield: You can use Dexterity instead of Strength for the attack and damage rolls of your unarmed strikes and monk weapons. You can roll a d4 in place of the normal damage of your unarmed strike or shaman weapon. This die changes as you gain shaman levels, as shown in the Spirit Bond column of Table: The Shaman. When you use the Attack action with an unarmed strike or a shaman weapon on your turn, you can make one unarmed strike as a bonus action. For example, if you take the Attack action and attack with a quarterstaff, you can also make an unarmed strike as a bonus action, assuming you haven’t already taken a bonus action this turn.

Spirit (formerly Ki) Starting at 2nd level, your training allows you to harness the mystic energy of your bonded spirit. Your access to this energy is represented by a number of spirit points. Your shaman level determines the number of points you have, as shown in the Spirit Points column of Table: The Shaman. You can spend these points to fuel various spirit features. You start knowing three such features: Flurry of Blows, Patient Defense, and Step of the Wind. You learn more spirit features as you gain levels in this class. When you spend a spirit point, it is unavailable until you finish a short or long rest, at the end of which you draw all of your expended spirit back into yourself. You must spend at least 30 minutes of the rest meditating to regain your spirit points. Some of your spirit features require your target to make a saving throw to resist the feature’s effects. The saving throw DC is calculated as follows:

Spirit save DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier

Flurry of Blows Immediately after you take the Attack action on your turn, you can spend 1 spirit point to make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action.

Patient Defense You can spend 1 spirit point to take the Dodge action as a bonus action on your turn.

Step of the Wind You can spend 1 spirit point to take the Disengage or Dash action as a bonus action on your turn, and your jump distance is doubled for the turn.

Unarmored Movement Starting at 2nd level, your speed increases by 10 feet while you are not wearing armor or wielding a shield. This bonus increases when you reach certain shaman levels, as shown in Table: The Shaman.

At 9th level, you gain the ability to move along vertical surfaces and across liquids on your turn without falling during the move.

Shamanic Tradition When you reach 3rd level, you commit yourself to a shamanic tradition. The tradition you choose grants you features at 3rd level and again at 7th, 10th, 15th, and 18th level. Your tradition grants you features at 3rd level and again at 6th, 11th, and 17th level.

Deflect Missiles Starting at 3rd level, you can use your reaction to deflect or catch the missile when you are hit by a ranged weapon attack. When you do so, the damage you take from the attack is reduced by 1d10 + your Dexterity modifier + your shaman level. If you reduce the damage to 0, you can catch the missile if it is small enough for you to hold in one hand and you have at least one hand free. If you catch a missile in this way, you can spend 1 spirit point to make a ranged attack with the weapon or piece of ammunition you just caught, as part of the same reaction. You make this attack with proficiency, regardless of your weapon proficiencies, and the missile counts as a shaman weapon for the attack, which has a normal range of 20 feet and a long range of 60 feet.

Ability Score Improvement When you reach 4th level, and again at 8th, 12th, 16th, and 19th level, you can increase one ability score of your choice by 2, or you can increase two ability scores of your choice by 1. As normal, you can’t increase an ability score above 20 using this feature.

Slow Fall Beginning at 4th level, you can use your reaction when you fall to reduce any falling damage you take by an amount equal to five times your shaman level.

Extra Attack Beginning at 5th level, you can attack twice, instead of once, whenever you take the Attack action on your turn.

Stunning Strike Starting at 5th level, you can interfere with the flow of spirit in an opponent’s body. When you hit another creature with a melee weapon attack, you can spend 1 spirit point to attempt a stunning strike. The target must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or be stunned until the end of your next turn.

Spirit-Empowered Strikes Starting at 6th level, your unarmed strikes count as magical for the purpose of overcoming resistance and immunity to nonmagical attacks and damage.

Evasion At 7th level, your empowered agility lets you dodge out of the way of certain area effects, such as a blue dragon’s lightning breath or a fireball spell. When you are subjected to an effect that allows you to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, you instead take no damage if you succeed on the saving throw, and only half damage if you fail.

Stillness of Mind Starting at 7th level, you can use your action to end one effect on yourself that is causing you to be charmed or frightened.

Purity of Body At 10th level, your mastery of the spirit flowing through you makes you immune to disease and poison.

Spirit Message (Formerly Tongue of Sun and Moon) Starting at 13th level, you learn to touch the spirit of other minds so that you understand all spoken languages. Moreover, any creature that can understand a language can understand what you say.

Diamond Soul Beginning at 14th level, your bond with your spirit grants you proficiency in all saving throws. Additionally, whenever you make a saving throw and fail, you can spend 1 spirit point to reroll it and take the second result.

Timeless Body At 15th level, your spirit sustains you so that you suffer none of the frailty of old age, and you can’t be aged magically. You can still die of old age, however. In addition, you no longer need food or water.

Empty Body Beginning at 18th level, you can use your action to spend 4 spirit points to become invisible for 1 minute. During that time, you also have resistance to all damage but force damage. Additionally, you can spend 8 spirit points to cast the astral projection spell, without needing material components. When you do so, you can’t take any other creatures with you.

Perfect Self At 20th level, when you roll for initiative and have no spirit points remaining, you regain 4 spirit points.

I also tampered a bit with the OGC Subclass:

Ancestral Spirit (Formerly Way of the Open Hand) Shamans who bond with an ancestral spirit take on the knowledge and experience of a hero of their bloodline. They work to become the perfect vessel, in body and mind, to channel these ancestors.

Ancestral Wisdom (Formerly Open Hand Technique) Starting when you choose this tradition at 3rd level, you can empower yourself with your spirit’s strength and wisdom. Whenever you hit a creature with one of the attacks granted by your Flurry of Blows, you can impose one of the following effects on that target: It must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw or be knocked prone. It must make a Strength saving throw. If it fails, you can push it up to 15 feet away from you. It can’t take reactions until the end of your next turn.

Wholeness of Body At 6th level, you gain the ability to heal yourself. As an action, you can regain hit points equal to three times your shaman level. You must finish a long rest before you can use this feature again.

Tranquility Beginning at 11th level, you can enter a special trance that allows your spirit to act as a guarding presence. At the end of a long rest, you gain the effect of a sanctuary spell that lasts until the start of your next long rest (the spell can end early as normal). The saving throw DC for the spell equals 8 + your Wisdom modifier + your proficiency bonus.

Soul Rip (Formerly Quivering Palm) At 17th level, you gain the ability to send out your bonded spirit to reach into a body, severing that creature’s connection to its own life force. When you hit a creature with an unarmed strike, you can spend 3 spirit points to imbibe your opponent’s body with spirit energy, which last for a number of days equal to your shaman level. The energy is harmless unless you use your action to activate it. To do so, you and the target must be on the same plane of existence. When you use this action, the creature must make a Constitution saving throw. If it fails, it is reduced to 0 hit points. If it succeeds, it takes 10d10 necrotic damage.

You can have only one creature under the effect of this feature at a time. You can choose to end the energy harmlessly without using an action.

Some more subclass examples:

Elemenal Spirits (Formerly Way of the Four Elements) Shamans who choose to bond with beings of the elemental planes always do so in sets of four. Inexperienced shamans may overly rely on one of the elements, making them prone to mood swings representative of that element, like an overly passionate fire shaman, or an extremely mischievous water shaman.

Demonic Shadow (Formerly Way of the Shadow) Shamans of this tradition are often called possessed, as demons are entirely malevolent beings. Shadow shamans must overcome the beings they bound to themselves in order to subjugate them and press them into service, or their soul will be forfeit. Not only are these kinds of shamans the most commonly evil, but also the most common among demon hunters, as their frequent contact with the abyssal forces make them unflinching in the face of demonic horrors.

[angermango]

[slides into inbox] wanna talk about those elementals real quick

OH BOY WOULD I !!!

so i dunno how much detail i should put out here on the get go, especially with the whole thing where i’m still unsure as to whether or not I should use them as Mortal Kombat OCs/fan interpretations of canon characters or just OCs on their own (in which case they’d be just ordinary elementals although i guess they can still be gods? :V)

Regardless they’re all supposed to be ageless immortal non-humans in human form sort of dudes who are basically the embodiments of the classical elements with so much power they’re basically deities by any other name so take your pick

Down here’s a guide to your friendly neighbourhood elementals (cut because it got LONG):

Ohona

Earth elemental/deity

Name based on a Japanese earth god named Ohonamochi (though he doesn’t really share much in common with the myths etc surrounding that guy, just the namesake)

He has control over the element of earth but also can manipulate anything under the earth so that includes metal and even minerals/gems

He’s the definition of a ‘gentle giant’ like he’s well over 7ft tall and broad like an ox but he’s the chillest and loveliest guy you’ll ever meet

Ohona’s kindness is freakin’ legendary. Even the nastiest of people would be hard pressed not to admit he’s such a nice guy they feel bad going up against him. If someone pulled a knife on him and demanded money Ohona’d fuckin give them his entire purse and then invite them for a meal and tea.

His big friendly giant thing means he’s probably classified as a pacifist, or at the very least one of those “Martial Pacifists” who doesn’t kill or use more force than necessary

His fighting style prioritises defence, the kind of Big Beefy defence trading on speed where he aims to outlast his opponents and keep his own attacking to a minimum. He’d much rather see his enemies give up than be forced to hurt them, sometimes deliberately letting them wear themselves out so he can approach and possibly talk it out with them without having to raise a hand

That said if he does ever have to attack he hits like a freaking bus on a train. He knows proper martial arts forms and everything so don’t think just because he’s a tank he doesn’t have skill or strength

He likes using his element to form shields and even armour around himself. He got the standard rock armour look down, but if the situation calls he can even scare up full metal or even diamond armour and shields

He is able to transform into a purely elemental form which is like a huge golem made of rock (like the MK Earth God). He’s even bigger and tankier in that form, but he rarely cracks it out unless it’s Serious Business and the situation calls for being huge and strong

He can also change up his elemental form if given enough time so sometimes y’all get metal golem Ohona or diamond golem Ohona stomping around. good luck if you ever go up against that.

Something of a nomad when he’s out and about in human form. He loves travelling, mostly for the hiking and scenery. I mean yeah he can teleport (usually as a small sandstorm or sometimes in a sort of ‘sink into the earth and pop out elsewhere’) but where’s the fun in that? He’s very much one with nature and his element and lives off the earth sort of thing, enjoying the great outdoors and sleeping under the stars

Brilliant gardener despite plants not being his domain, mostly owing to his naturally excellent care of the earth

Absolute animal lover and friend to everything that moves

That also includes the super freaky and dangerous animals. catch him treating a 13ft gator like a dog and getting it to roll over for belly rubs or calling one of them bird-eating giant tarantulas his hairy baby.

He’s really friendly and warm to humans he meets regardless of whether they acknowledge his power or not. He likes spending time helping them out however he can with his powers be it helping them do some gardening or fixing stuff up

He’s a talented hand in sculpting, carving, jewellery and pottery craft to name a few. He’s got a rather infamous habit of making some incredible pieces then just giving them away and fucking off, leaving people with these beautiful pieces of art which are completely anonymous and literally priceless

He always makes time to visit Hinoka and Suijin either separately or as a get-together. They’re his two best buddies and he is always happy to keep Hinoka company or keep an eye on Suijin.

Hinoka

Fire elemental/deity

His… is actually not a real deity’s name, I think i remember seeing some fan names for the unnamed MK fire god using it and liked it. sorry oddball

(ED) o I think i found the origin it’s probably from the Shinto fire kami Kagutsuchi who is sometimes known Hinokagutsuchi or Hi-no-kagutsuchi waddayaknow - he doesn’t share the same myth as Kagutsuchi tho but now we know his name isn’t completely random hey-oh

As a Fire guy he controls flame but also heat, being able to thermoregulate his body and the air around him. He can also absorb fire and heat so he’s like immune to burning too and can put out fires by standing in them.

His elemental form is of course basically a humanoid bonfire, though he’s able to not make himself wholly flammable so he can walk around indoors and around people without making everything catch alight, but his elemental form can also still burn people on contact through radiating heat. it’s elemental magic man he don’t got to explain

He’s a very capable fighter in both martial arts and also swordfighting as his weapon of choice. cause you know what’s better than a sword? A FLAMING sword. He also mixes in the classic fire-bending tricks where he can, fireballs and flamethrowers and so on.

Got a very fast and ‘keep away’ sort of fighting style where he favours AOE kinds of moves to keep people at a distance with the threat of getting barbecued or beat to hell. Expect rings of fire, explosions and sweeping fireballs sort of thing, as well as a lot of constant moving around to make it hard to pin him down.

kind of a hermit so he doesn’t actually really go out and interact with people a lot save for his fellow elementals. and even then he’s pretty quiet and shy and it takes a lot to coax him out of his shell

If you do manage to get through to him he’s quite a nice guy. perhaps still not the most talkative, but he’s not going to be rude or anything

He has a thing where if he gets startled or embarrassed he sometimes accidentally lights himself on fire and Shenanigans Ensue. It’s often a bit of a chain reaction because say you surprise him and he flares up, and then he gets embarrassed for flaring up, then he gets embarrassed that he can’t stop flaring up etc.

The reason for his reclusiveness is pretty sad actually. He’s cripplingly afraid of hurting people with his powers because he knows he can deal some serious damage with them. That’s the thing with fire, it doesn’t need a lot to get going and can spread very quickly. But because he isolates himself and stews in his fear he doesn’t have much control when he is around people and loses control when he’s stressed and then continues to fear being around people…

And the reason why this fear started is even sadder. A very, very long time ago, Hinoka once lost control of his powers in a blind rage and made a desert. A really, really big desert. Out of land which was once fertile and thriving. And inhabited. He still hasn’t forgiven himself for it and it’s really not a good idea to bring it up.

Because of what happened, that’s why he only hangs out around the other two elementals and any other immortals, because he knows he can’t hurt them that badly if something ever went wrong.

He tends to retreat to extremely remote regions and in very basic conditions, like a cabin or even a small cave, far from civilisation.

He prefers temperate to hot climates but like even if he was in the Arctic he is always warm himself so it’s not a big deal.

He spends most of his free time meditating and practicing forms in an attempt to de-stress and get some control over his powers. He also reads sometimes (though he fears for his books) and has gotten fairly good at cooking as a past time (even though he doesn’t quite need to eat like a human).

Speaking of his food the other two elementals always like dropping by to keep him company over a meal or to share new recipes/try his new recipes. Always an evening well spent.

Despite popular beliefs and stereotypes, he doesn’t like spicy food. Too much spice will hurt and then he’ll become stressed and because he’s stressed his fire aura will flare up and so yeah he doesn’t do spice.

Suijin

Water elemental/deity

Named after Shinto water kami of the same name

To put it bluntly Suijin’s like. a massive jerk.

Of all the elementals Suijin is the one with the lowest opinion of humans/mortals.

His reason is because he mostly spends more time in the sea and not integrating with humans.

And also because humans keep dumping their crap in the oceans and he’s left choking in it and clearing it all up so STOP DOING THAT YOU OIL PISSING FUCKMONKEYS

oh yeah he’s got an atomic temper and a vocabulary to match. being immortal just means he’s had more time to pick up some fantastic new curses to try out.

speaking of his temper he’s seriously got waayyyy to small a fuse and he’s so extremely hot-blooded there’s no in betweens when it comes to chill or no chill. one moment you could be talking about ice cream the next he’s chokeslamming you because you put sprinkles on it.

fun fact when he gets mad he often literally steams with anger

He also puts zero effort into his appearance when around mortals, his robes always looking scruffy and half-undone. see if he gives a shit what you think.

He prefers being in his elemental form most of the time, which is just a human-shaped mass of water. In this form he can melt into bodies of water and travel as a puddle, letting him go pretty much anywhere he likes. However he’s also vulnerable to extreme heat or cold in this form since it will dry him out or freeze him solid

His control of the element of water means he’s also technically got power over all water in all its forms including vapour e.g. steam and clouds. He’s also not limited to the water which is immediately around since he can call up water from any source or even move some clouds over for a top up. He could even create water on the spot from the air or dump a tidal wave on your doorstep even if you live inland. don’t try him. He’s also picked up some ice tricks, which also helps make him less vulnerable to being frozen

True to his personality and element he’s got a very aggressive and fluid fighting style that attacks on all sides and constantly moves and changes to take everyone by surprise. One minute he’s in your face with his fists the next he’s using Hydro Pump from a distance and then stabbing you from behind with his spear and calling you a bitch.

Okay so i said he’s a jerk and he is, but he’s also kind of a ‘jerk with a heart of gold’ guy in a way. For all his temper and foul mouth he can be decent to people when it matters. He’s still a surly grouch even around friends but he makes the effort not to be needlessly cruel and if his yelling and cursing genuinely upsets anyone he’ll dial it back and even apologise if he overstepped.

He’s also very loyal to those he is actually friends with. He may be a little intense about it, but he’s super ride-or-die and will tear anyone who threatens, upsets or insults his friends a new one. And he might not be the best with his words, but he would want what’s best for his friends and won’t hesitate to speak his mind with advice or criticism in their best interests.

He mostly keeps the company of the other elementals and non-mortals, though whenever he does make contact with humans who haven’t ticked him off it’s by the sea since he rarely roams far from his element.

Believe it or not, he and Hinoka are best friends. Hinoka is like Suijin’s one soft spot who he’ll move heaven and earth to keep happy and safe.

When Suijin is around Hinoka he basically does a 180 and becomes super considerate and careful around him. He won’t raise his voice and minds his manners, though he knows Hinoka doesn’t mind him grumbling and cursing a bit and it’s more he will be more mindful not to sound all negative and get loud and mean around Hinoka because he knows Hinoka doesn’t like it.

He knows about why Hinoka is so afraid of going outside and has been doing his best to support him ever since the incident. He visits often to check in on him and keep him company. He also knows Hinoka feels safer with him around because he is the only person Hinoka can’t actually hurt with his fire powers (as in Suijin can’t even get burned where Ohona can still) and Suijin can always put out fires quickly.

Hinoka is also Suijin’s biggest berserk button. Don’t ever insult let alone hurt Hinoka in front of him or Suijin will actually tear you in half.

He’s also just as close to Ohona despite not seeming it at first glance. He often seems like he just gripes a lot to Ohona but he genuinely appreciates Ohona’s consideration and patience around him and being a loyal friend. Suijin will just as easily jump in to defend and fight for Ohona too like he does Hinoka, but less often since he knows Ohona can handle himself and barely has problems.

[thefine9diary]

Peacock and the Beast

Once upon a time, there was a young fella who just entered adulthood and is eager to finally explore the world on his own. He was entering the most fruitful time of his life, eager to taste the bittersweet flavours of romance that he had heard much about but was forbidden to experience being raised in an all-boys school. He was groomed to be honourable, to be righteous and to be a gentlemen. He dreamt of himself being the knight in shining armour, destined to meet his beautiful and kind princess by rescuing her from the darkness and riding into a bright future.

Often times in this world, the most beautiful beings are also the most deceptive. In nature, poisonous creatures such as caterpillars, snakes and jellyfish use bright colours to attract their preys. This is a proven law in this world, just look at the three prime colours, they create countless beautiful shades, but when mixed together, their true nature is revealed - black. Unfortunately the young men fell into the same trap when he met the first girl that came into his life. He has never met a girl this pretty before having grown up in a boys school and was blinded by her bright colours. He pursued her with sincerity and generosity and finally she belonged to him. Things were good at first and they planned a life happily ever after. He was a giver and built his happiness on her, he took care of her needs and showered her with care. She was appreciative at first but as time passed by, she became accustomed to the pampering and her true colour as a taker came to light.

She took advantage of his giving nature and took him for granted. She was unappreciative of him, he thought it was his problem and tried even harder to please her and found himself in a vicious cycle. Eventually he just became part of the household, like a piece of furniture, a carpet that initially received admiration for its comfort, provided warmth for the feet, but always stepped on and slowly forgotten. Until one day she decided to replace the carpet with new tiles, because warmth was boring for her and the new tiles were flashy, the cool sensations on the feet were too exhilarating to resist.

He was left with a void, his fair lady had became an evil fairy haunting him from his past, leaving him with a curse that he would never be the charming, honourable and giving knight he once was. Instead he became the Beast, one that lives in the dark and is ugly on the inside so no princess deserving of his love would ever come near him. His greatest fear is that he would die alone, knowing that the only way to avoid this is by finding the princess who would love him for who he is now so that he could return to his original form.

Despite the impossible odds against him, the Beast was not a quitter and with wills of iron, he was determined to break the curse. Fortunately for him, he did have one strength that could help him win the princess that would bring him back to his original nature, and that was - he is extremely leng jai...... Okay all jokes aside, it was because he had mastered the skills as a hunter. He was able to assess his surroundings like reflex, he could smell and see through body signals instinctively to identify vulnerable targets, he knew exactly how to make an approach without alarming the prey, he practised the art of seduction to lure his targets in, and he was fearless in going for the kill at the end. He was convinced that with these skills, he could win over a princess and not have to be alone for the rest of his life.

He started his quest to hunt down his princess in the crazy city where the fallen have gathered to party in the dark. Soon he found himself in a mix of different beasts in the hunting ground. There were scavengers who were the lowest of them all and would eat whatever is left, devouring the dead corpses that no self-respectful being would eat. There were foxes that would con and cheat the gullible young girls like rabbits into their schemes. There were fishers who would throw a bait out, often flaunting their wealth and attracting gold diggers with brain sizes comparable to a gold fish. We see a lot of fishers here, claiming to be hunters but not realising without the bait, they are nothing more than a stick. There were wolves that would hunt in packs which are admirable to outsiders because of the comradery until you realised they also share the easy girl who was weak like a sheep and they are in fact just dogs when outside of the pack. There were also monkeys who picks the low hanging fruit and brags to be a hunter, but just as fruits will never make it on the dining table, these girls are bland and will never satisfy a real beast’s appetite.

The Beast hunted alone as he had no interest in scavenging, conning, fishing nor fruit picking, he would never share his treasured princess with anyone too. He had success from the beginning, he would glance and scout the bar to find an attractive woman that interests him at first sight and move into her proximity to make his presence known. Keeping his eyes fixed on the target, he would wait for her to catch eye contact with him and reply with a smirk and her reaction would indicate her approachability. The approach is probably the most critical part of the hunt, the most ferocious predators always come prepared and approach with caution, take the cheetah for example, he would crouch and hide behind the grass, using his mesmerising spots as camouflage while getting into the optimal position and angle to charge, mount and penetrate with his sharp fangs. The Beast did exactly the same, he has practiced and overcame hundreds of objections without flaw, he has learned to hide his true intentions without lying, he has mastered the art of camouflaging with different identities and could direct interactions into exactly where he wanted. All that is left is to mount and penetrate.

He did this for years, mounting and penetrating numerous beauties but was no where closer in finding his princess. All the so called beauties were in fact takers who had no interest to know him for who he really was. They wanted what he represented - the flirtatious courting, the unknown anticipation, and the lustful ecstasy. Eventually he became numb and desensitised, becoming part of the darkness that surrounds him and began to embrace himself as a beast. Soon he was hunting not in the hopes of finding his princess, but purely for the ego and satisfaction of conquering the forest. The beauties were nothing more than supper to him now, their faces became vague and names forgotten.

Until one Friday night when the beast was once again out hunting alone. From afar he spotted a beautiful girl with the most confident radiance walking through the crowd towards him, she was of medium stature with feminine curves, she was well-covered in subtle yet eye-drawing outfit as the fabric hugs her body lightly, accentuating her perfect silhouette in the dark. Lucky for him her journey ended at the bar counter right next to him, her skin was perfect with luscious tone, her features were delicate with a perfectly straight nose, eyes that touched the soul and lips that were full and firm, all of these were arranged in the golden ratio on her oval-shaped face. He would typically have made a move at the sight of such attractive being but hesitated as there was something unique about her, she was in a socially open place with her friends yet she was comfortable in her own world, looking calmly and confidently ahead without any signs of insecurity. That signalled to him that any trespassers trying to intrude her world would not be welcomed.

He could see the animals drooling over her and one by one starting to make their way towards this precious creature and hoping to try their luck. One hungry fox got there first and tapped her shoulder from the side, she rolled her eyes to see him with her peripheral without turning her head and ignored him, he leaned towards her head and said his first words but she looked away as if he didn’t exist and had him leaving with discouragement. Then the bold eagle arrived at the sight of her drunk friend, he pecked and tried to get a reaction from them but was swooped away by her hand in his face insulting him with disrespect. The Beast knew they were doomed to fail and was trying to figure her out but realised he had to make a move soon before she gets fed up by all the other animals trying their luck.

He took a risk knowing he may well end up rejected like the rest of them. He leaned in along the counter so his face is in front of her and she could not avoid eye contact. He pointed to her drunk friend and asked jokingly “why are you sober?” She looked into his eyes with a slight pause and replied “Cause I am a peacock.” It was an unheard of expression that also made immediate sense for him, she was elegant, gorgeous and unwavering in her confidence. Knowing exactly what she meant, the Beast still asked her to clarify whether she calls herself a peacock because she was ready for mating in order to direct the conversation to where he wanted - about sex. She saw right through his intentions and answered with a simple no followed by a fierce statement that she does not want to talk unless he drinks 4 shots. The Beast knew she was out of his league and she was toying him so he left without any loss of enthusiasm in search of his next target.

They parted ways but the Beast always remembered the beautiful peacock at the back of his head. She was a creature that belonged on the bright heavenly skies, destined to fly freely with the birds, unreachable by the predators that pollutes the land. But she chose to come on the ground into the darkness, perhaps forced by a similar reason as the Beast, that she believed in the bright side but it had let her down. It was out of choice that she walks on the dark side, to revenge and instil fear on the unworthy beings with her seductive yet destructive strides.

And this, is how it all started...

[kara-no-ai]

KOR Bad Boys part 7

At long last, here comes the start of Kurayama’s involvement in the story.

Shout out to @endless-season for correcting the glaringly obvious English mistakes and sharing in my pain over Pink’s soft sadism. 

-♛-

At first, Kusanagi had been unable to react. He could have sworn they had shaken off anyone following them. Though he had been prepared to be found out some day, he hadn't thought it would be this quick, nor that the boss himself would be involved in it. Kusanagi quickly turned his gaze to the area behind Kurayama. He thought it possible that Kurayama could have brought with him reinforcements to launch an attack. Were that the case, it would turn into Kusanagi causing a lot of trouble for his uncle, even if his uncle was not currently present. Kurayama smiled amiably and waved his hand, as though he had read Kusanagi's thoughts with the movement of his gaze. "Ah if you're worried about my army, don't be. I came alone. There's two of you right? So no need to be worried." Kurayama sized up Kusanagi and Suoh, who was still inside the bar. Kusanagu couldn't afford to let his guard down enough to look back behind him at Suoh. He continued to observe Kurayama and felt himself start to break out in an uncomfortable sweat. "How......" "Info needs to travel fast. That's the one policy we're strict about. If you think something's up, you report it right away. Check it out right away. And then report back again. As fast as you can. If you do that and never keep your leader in once place, you can keep up this shitty game up for a bit longer. Info's blood. And if the vessels get clogged up, you die. Well, not like any of that'd matter when you're dead." Kusanagi modified the image he had of Kurayama in his head. The Kurayama he had pictured from what he had heard from people was someone who was more disturbed, like a brainless guy who would use violence without thinking of the consequences. But, this guy was no idiot. It wasn't as though he didn't think of the consequences of his actions. It seemed to be that he did, and continued on with his reckless behavior knowing full well that he would eventually be brought to a stop. He's not an idiot, but he's extremely desperate. And there was no greater danger than that desperateness. "Kurayama Mitsuha." Kusanagi said his name cautiously. "Are ya tryin' to die?" Kusanagi asked the question purely out of his own curiosity. Upon being asked the question, for a brief moment Kurayama looked at him with childlike amazement for and laughed. "Does it seem that way?" "Yeah. Ya can't help but see it as a roundabout way of trying to kill yerself." Cautiously, Kusanagi waited for Kurayama's next move, trying to determine how he'd respond. But before Kurayama could give a reply, a voice rang out from behind him. "It's narrow," said the voice deep as an animal's growl. It was followed by the sounds of footsteps across the floor from behind Kuansagi's back which grew closer. Kusanagi stepped back with only one leg and, not letting Kurayama out of his sight, turned to look at Suoh. Suoh and Kurayama did not give off the same vibe. Yet despite that, in that instant they seemed to mirror each other to Kusanagi. "Being well behaved is too constricting and makes you want to break out. It's nothing new. And people who're like that quickly disappear. That's nothing new either." Suoh stood at the entrance to the bar, right in front of Kurayama. His did not appear to be riled up by his expression, nor was he trying to provoke the guy. He was extremely levelheaded. "Ain't nothing cool about getting yourself killed." The corner of Kurayama's curled upwards at Suoh's words. "You Suoh Mikoto?" Kurayama put one foot in the bar and brushed Kusanagi off to the side. He stood right in front of Suoh, observing him from such a close distance that their noses could have brushed at any given moment. "I see now." Kurayama nodded several times and then smiled. "Break free with me." (1) With very little prior warning, Kurayama hit Suoh. Suoh's body went flying, knocking over a table and chairs in the bar. Kusanagi didn't have time to react and simply watched on in shock as it happened. "O-oi!" Suoh languidly sat up from behind the table that had fallen over. There was blood trickling down from a cut on the corner of his mouth. "You took the blow on purpose?" said Kurayama mockingly. "You're really good at seeing things. You saw me move to attack just now but decided to still take the blow anyway? You think something's gonna change from taking a blow? Or are you the kinda guy that pain makes them get into it?" Suoh stood up and used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his mouth. Kurayama swayed back and forth. "I don't mind pain either. Both dishing it out and taking it." Kurayama leapt at him. It was like he was an acrobat. His movements were flashy and he utilized violence as though it were a form of art.  

He angled his one leg up to around 140° and let loose a high kick. Suoh used his arm to take the blow and returned it with a punch. Kurayama took the blow as well. He then lunged at Suoh with an animal-like quickness. Grabbing Suoh by the collar, Kurayama hoisted him up onto his back and sent him flying. Suoh's body curled in on itself as he flew and, even though he should have smacked hard into the floor, the impact only produced a light thud. It may have due to the fact he took the blow straight on and didn't dodge. On the contrary, Suoh then grabbed Kurayama and sent him flying right back. The two nimble wild beasts fought it out in a mess of tangled limbs. The bar's interior was being destroyed by their scuffle. Kusanagi continued to watch it play out, unable to do anything about it. The two of them roughly bumped into a shelf. The bottles resting there on display fell to the floor and broke. The shards dug into both of them as they collapsed over them. They both leapt back to put some distance between them and exchanged glances. Suoh yanked out a piece of glass that had embedded itself in his hand and threw it away. Kurayama collected the pieces that has gotten on his jacket and used his tongue to lick the blood dripping down his face from a wound on his cheek. "W-wait a minute! Hold it!" Kusanagi called out as he finally came back to his senses. But Suoh and Kurayama appeared as though they were too focused to hear him and began to clash once again. Kusanagi wasn't reckless enough to throw himself in the middle of an intense battle of offense and defense.

He surveyed the area around them. The mop he had left on the floor in the corner of the bar from when he was cleaning yesterday caught his eye. Kusanagi quickly ran over there, snatched the bucket and flung its contents towards Suoh and Kurayama. Cold, slightly dirty water rained down on the two guys. That was enough to make the two of them stop and look over in Kusanagi's direction. "I told ya to hold it!" shouted Kusanagi as he threw the now empty bucket down onto the floor. Kurayama frowned and ran his hand through his soaked blond hair.

“Why’re you throwing cold water on my fun? Ah, you literally did. Throw cold water on us,” said Kurayama. He gave a slight smile at his own joke. (2) Suoh let the water drip down his head and continue to stare at Kurayama without batting an eye. Kusanagi gave Kurayama a sharp look and chose his words carefully. "Just what're you plannin' to do?" " 'What?' " 

Kusanagi breathed deeply. Kurayama was far from an idiot, nor was he a madman who couldn't put together the meaning of the words. However, it was certain that he was living in a world that was completely outside of Kusanagi's common sense. Cautiously, Kusanagi searched for how Kurayama's world was shaped. 

"I heard all kinds of rumors about ya. 'Bout you goin' around picking fights and show off yer strength. Till I met ya, I thought you were a guy not right in here. Strong, but couldn't think of the consequences of his actions." Kusanagi said, lightly tapped his own forehead to punctuate the word 'here'. "But now that I've actually met ya, that's changed. You do think yer actions through. And yet choose to do them. You were talkin' earlier about how info is blood right? Even though yer careful enough to circulate that blood so ya don't die, yer still doing stuff that'll lead to yer death. To ensure yer safety for the time bein' you're crushing people who're plotting things that'll inconvenience you, all while knowing full well that the only thing that lies ahead of the path you're walking is destruction. Ya seem like you've got somethin' yer aimin' for but actually don't. Just what's up with ya?" "So what you're saying is I'm contradicting myself?" Head bent at an odd angle, Kurayama spoke as though he were not talking to anyone in particular. "Yeah," Kusanagi agreed. "Shut up." Kurayama said, suddenly taking the tone of a child who was throwing a tantrum. He stuck out his lower lip as though he were upset. "I lost any goals I had five years ago. Since then I've gone on livin' my life like this, but there hasn't been any point to it." Kusanagi raised an eyebrow at the words 'five years ago'. It seemed that something which had been a turning point to this guy had happened to him back then. "There's nothing in living like this. That's why I just do what I want, grow bigger and burst, even if it's stupid. There's nothing else left for me to do. But if I got destroyed too quick I wouldn't be able to get big. So I'll snap any needle that gets in my way because then I've grown a bit first before I burst. That's good enough for me.” Kusanagi didn't try to understand his rationale. He simply understood that this is the type of creature the guy is and searched for a way to hold a conversation with such a creature. "I see. And that's why yer trying to hurry along your imminent destruction." Kusanagi prodded him on with a controlled tone of voice, careful to not be too inciting. Kurayama gave a small reaction. "You talkin’ about that lecture about how we're becoming an eyesore for the yakuza that you baited my group with? Or how you're going to make an organization to compete against me?" "Is playin' around at starting war that'll get you crushed what you really want?" "That's right.  .......But." Kurayama looked over in Suoh's direction and his expression turned serious. He was a guy whose emotions as easy to read as a child's, yet when he he was expressionless it gave off a slightly unsettlingly feeling. "I've changed my mind a bit seeing you." Kurayama stared at Suoh as though he were trying to pierce through him with his gaze. Suoh didn't move in the slightest. "You get how I feel, dontcha?" Suoh did nothing to answer the question posed to him. He neither confirmed nor denied it. "You said it. That's ‘it's narrow’. You feel the same too. That this world is narrow, hard to breathe in and you wanna tear it all to pieces." Kusanagi looked between Suoh and Kurayama. He recalled how earlier for a moment he'd thought that Suoh and Kurayama mirrored each other. "You want to get along with me because we're members of the same species?" Suoh said with disdain. Kurayama sneered as he laughed. You could see the pointed tips of his teeth from behind his pale lips. "Yeah, I do. Seems to me that duking it out with you'd be an even better way to break free than by fighting with someone or getting done in by someone." Kurayama's eyes seemed to burn with the level of heat of a flame. When Kusanagi saw those eyes, he knew that the guy was being serious when he said it. He had met Kurayama Mitsuha for the first time not long ago. He didn't know what he was like on a normal basis. But, from what he'd gathered from the rumors and man himself, Kurayama was bored with living in the world. He didn't find meaning in living life by fitting into society, so he started behaving recklessly without any aspirations. Kurayama was one of the burnt out, empty people you'd find anywhere in the world, although slightly larger in scale due to his strength. A person who had nowhere to go in this country that was in an age where it was more prosperous and peaceful than it had ever been throughout its history. The eyes of a guy like that now burned brightly like he had found something. Kusanagi instinctively knew that this fight with Suoh, that had seemed ridiculous from an outsider's point of view, had meant enough to Kurayama to make an impact on his life. Suoh shot Kurayama an irritated look. He might have grown bored of the long conversation. "Quit standing around talking. If you're gonna fight me then come on and fight me already." Kurayama's lips curled happily upwards like a crescent moon at Suoh's words. They both got into position. Kusanagi, seeing this, made up his mind. "Earless Mitsuha. Promise me one thing," he said.

Kurayama cast a suspicious glance over at Kusanagi. "This is a duel." Duel. A word that doesn't often pop up decent conversations. Kusanagi mentally sneered at the outdated ring of the word he used.

Kurayama continued to look over at Kusanagi with an extremely serious look on his face. "The loser has to follow what the winner says." Kurayama laughed. He laughed and accepted the terms. They went out to the back of the bar. Kusanagi walked alongside Suoh. In a small voice he whispered, "Sorry for decidin' things without askin'." Kusanagi treated a kouhai of his, one that he'd suddenly gotten involved in this mess today, someone who was neither his ally nor his friend, as though he were a pawn. The moment Kurayama had set his flame-like gaze on Suoh, Kusanagi had known that the best method of stopping the empty runaway vehicle that was Kurayama was to have him crash into Suoh. For Suoh, however, it was a situation that the word 'trouble' could not even be begin to describe. Yet, despite that, Suoh looked unconcerned. "It's fine. It'd probably be easier to have you call the shots." Kusanagi smiled wryly at Suoh's not being shaken in the slightest. If his kouhai were to lose this fight, Kusanagi would have to do everything in his power protect him, no matter what the cost. It was just before the date would change to the following day.  The night air in spring was filled with a chilliness which betrayed the warm almost hot temperature of the daytime. Suoh and Kurayama stood on the paved road. Kurayama gazed at Suoh, lazily slouching over as he readied himself for the fight. "Mikoto." Kurayama called out to Suoh. His tone was as though he were addressing a good friend of his. "Have you ever seen a gigantic amount of heat, Mikoto?" Suoh furrowed his brows in suspicion. "I have. A gigantic heat. A pure power that destroys the good and bad alike. I wanna be something like that." Though Kurayama seemed as though he had lost himself to that heat, at the same time, it also appeared as though he saw himself through terribly cold eyes. Kurayama let out a self deprecating laugh. "But it seemed impossible, which made me feel bent out of shape and hopeless lately. But looking at you makes me think of that flame.  ........It makes me wanna break free again now." Kurayama gave a toothy smile and the very next moment kicked the ground. He went flying in a straight line right towards Suoh. Kurayama pierced straight through the air as he headed Suoh's way. But when he was right in front of Suoh, Kurayama suddenly stopped and kicked Suoh in the side. It was a fast and slow combo that was executed as nimbly as a feint from a soccer player or basketball player. Not even a second after he stopped Kurayama let out a second bullet fast movement. He used the leg he'd stepped closer to Suoh with to pivot his body and aimed a well-aimed punch right at Suoh's face. Kusanagi gulped as he watched, his body stiffening. But Suoh didn't move. At the very last possible second he evaded the blow from Kurayama. Kusanagi recalled how Kurayama had said Suoh possessed good sight. Kusanagi watched and understood that it meant the strength which led to the boy being called a wild beast was not just from physical strength and how nimbly he moved. A large part of it came from his sight and instinctual reactions as well. Suoh continued to evade Kurayama's blows with light steps. The only sounds that reverberated through the air were the noise of Kurayama's punches and kicks piercing through the air and the footsteps of the two as they moved along the road. The hustle and bustle of Shizumine City was far away. Suoh continued to observe each and every punch and movement of Kurayama's as he evaded the blows and then switched to offense. Suoh used his arm to guard against Kurayama's right fist and then lunged toward him, raising up his first in a skillful uppercut that grazed Kurayama's chin. Though Kurayama had quickly jumped backward to get out of the way, from how he slightly staggered it didn't appear that he had gotten out unscathed. Suoh lunged towards the staggering Kurayama like a carnivore baring its fangs at prey that had shown a moment of vulnerability. He buried his fist into Kurayama's side.

Kurayama held his breath. Kusanagi thought that Kurayama was going to collapse onto the ground. However, Kurayama, still holding his breath, used the close proximity to latch onto Suoh's neck and restrained him by wrapping an arm around it. While Suoh was unable to move Kurayama punched him square in the face. Blood gushed out. It seemed like Suoh had gotten a cut right above his eye. Suoh closed the eye where he was wounded and smiled. It was the same sort of smile he'd had when he and Kusanagi were surrounded by enemies, but this time even more gruesome. Suoh grappled with Kurayama who raised his first to throw another punch, kicking the ground with all his might. It sent both of them into the air as they continued to grapple with each other. Kurayama collapsed as he was pushed down by Suoh and the two of them fell to the ground, tumbling around in a mess of tangled limbs. The two of them shot up at the exact same time like a spring and put distance between each other. Without time take a single breathe they both resumed punching and kicking each other. Suoh's fist connected with Kurayama's cheek and Kurayama's kick landed on Suoh's forearm that he'd put up to guard. "Aha!" came the short, delighted laugh from Kurayama, who fought as though he were dancing. In the midst of their intense movements back and forth, the blood flowing out from the wound above Suoh's eye flew across the air and onto Kurayama's face. He licked off some of that blood, which has landed on his lips, and then took a giant step closer. Suoh's eye was completely shut due to the blood running down his face. Having lost his sense of perception due to his closed eye, Suoh's sight, which he utilized as a weapon in fighting, had been decreased. Kurayama, who'd lunged closer, threw a well-aimed punch at Suoh's temple. Suoh didn't react. Was he unable to dodge it? Though he knew he wasn't able to intervene at the current moment, Kusanagi unconsciously took a step towards the two of them. That was when Suoh's knees suddenly gave out. Suoh suddenly dropped below, causing Kurayama's punch to cut through the space over Suoh's head, grazing his hair. Suoh, who seemed to have collapsed all of a sudden, stuck out his feet and landed on the ground  with a thud just seconds before his knees would have hit it. And, from that position, he thrust his elbow into Kurayama's solar plexus. Kurayama stopped breathing. Suoh's elbow, carrying the full force of his weight, had hit Kurayama right in the middle of his torso and sent him flying backwards. Kurayama fell to the street, his back slamming against the ground as Suoh fell on top of him. Suoh didn't let the moment Kurayama lay there immobilized pass him by. He straddled Kurayama and punched him in the face. Once, twice, three times he punched him. In the darkness, Suoh's eyes glowed, reflecting the faint amount of light. It was no doubt the eyes of a wild beast that glow in the dark. Kurayama struggled, but there was nothing he could do to turn around the situation now that Suoh had gotten on top of him.

Suoh simply kept right on punching him. He seemed to still be riled up, but the gruesome smile he'd had before had disappeared. There was a calm-headedness about him that was like he was finishing up his job of putting an end to the prey he'd brought down. Though he didn't seem like it, Suoh was still just a fifteen year old boy. His body was still developing and would reach its peak form in a few years from now. Kusanagi felt a cold chill run down his back as he thought of the day this boy would reach his peak.

Even though Suoh was currently on his side, Kusanagi felt afraid of him. Kurayama Mitsuha, who'd been talked of fearfully amongst the boys of Shizumine City as an urban legend for a while now, had been hunted by this fifteen year old boy. At almost the exact moment Kusanagi began to worry over whether  or not to put a stop to the violence, Suoh stopped. He languidly got up off of Kurayama. He used his sleeve to wipe off the blood that was dropping from above his eyelid in an irritable manner. Kurayama lay on the street with his limbs spread out. He slowly moved his eyes to look over at Suoh. Suoh also looked down at Kurayama. "Get lost." Suoh said, not beating around the bush.  It was an order from him as the winner. Still laying collapsed on the ground, Kurayama gave a blood covered smile. "Fine." Kurayama looked up at the sky. For some reason or another Kusanagi felt compelled to look up as well. The night sky was cloudy and dimly lit by the light from the restless Shizumine City. Kurayama let out a long sigh.

".......I guess for now I'll take a bit more care with living now." He said defeatedly. Feeling disquieted, Kusanagi furrowed his brows. "....... Whadda ya mean by that, are ya still plannin' on doin' something?" "I mean I'll put a stop to my spree of suicidal actions.  .........It'd be a waste to die now." Kurayama looked at Suoh once more. It seemed as though he was watching something dazzling. "You remind me just a little bit of that guy," said Kurayama as though speaking to himself.

-♛-

Notes:

(1) Previously, I had translated Kurayama’s  catchphrase ‘tobu’ as ‘get high.’ Long story short, in going through bits and pieces of the novel again with endless-season’s translations of snipits from KOR, it hit me that ‘break free’ was a better fit. So from now on I’ll render it as ‘break free.’

(2) The joke Kurayama made here (a joke involving ‘mizusashi’ for pitcher and ‘mizusasu’ for pouring water) is something that doesn’t work in English.  I chose to substitute it with a subtle idiomatic pun of throwing cold water as that’s the closest possible equivalent, but if you’re in need of a more obvious joke then think of it as ‘rain on my parade’.

[woodenwedges]

1 through 100. Let's go! Answer em aaaalll!

Omg Kate you’re absolute mad!!! Thanks tho’ I love answering these things ❤️😁Hoo boy here we go!1. What is you middle name?Don’t have one! Neither does my brother.2. How old are you?203. When is your birthday?The 15th of may 🌸4. What is your zodiac sign?Taurus ♉️🐃5. What is your favorite color?Baby pink! 6. What’s your lucky number?Dunno about lucky number but my favorite number is 77. Do you have any pets?Yep! Two dogs.One sweet, blonde girl named Emsi (based on the danish word Emsig meaning officious)And a neurotic chihuahua named Henry. We got them both cause their owners no longer could take care of them and I love them to the moon and back ❤️8. Where are you from?Hirtshals in Denmark! I love my town to death9. How tall are you?Uuuh around like 1,65 m10. What shoe size are you?3911. How many pairs of shoes do you own?Too many.... we get a lot of free stuff so I have a lot. Probably around 10 pairs?12. What was your last dream about?The only thing I remember from my last dream was that I got a pimple on my forehead lol13. What talents do you have?I’m good at art, dancing and just performing in general and I’m getting pretty good with makeup!14. Are you psychic in any way?Nope15. Favorite song?Right now it’s brain damage and eclipse from The Dark Side of The Moonby Pink Floyd. They remind me of my mom ❤️16. Favorite movie?Don’t actually have one! But the last film I think I saw was carol and I absolutely loved it.17. Who would be your ideal partner?Just someone who’s intelligent and kind I guess! And has a similar sense of humor18. Do you want children?I do, but I’m probably never gonna birth any cause I have an illness I don’t want to risk transferring and also might be going on T soon!!19. Do you want a church wedding?I don’t really care20. Are you religious?Nah. I’m a spiritual atheist21. Have you ever been to the hospital?Only as a visitor. I’ve gone to the emergency room but I’ve never been admitted.22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?Nope23. Have you ever met any celebrities?My cousins a model who’s dating one of the Danish x-factor judges so yea.24. Baths or showers?BATHS25. What color socks are you wearing?White. I prefer just plain whites rn, but there’s was a time in my life where I always wore fun, colorful socks and never matching them26. Have you ever been famous?Lol no but a stranger did come up to me last week and told me she’s a huge fan of my work ❤️ a lot of the locals like my watercolor portraits27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?Honestly yea I do fantasize a lot about it 28. What type of music do you like?Music is a huge part of my life! My main Spotify playlist is 161 hours now and it’s all extremely diverse!The only music I don’t particularly like is blues and trap cause i find it boring. Right now I’m really into old grungy rock, punk, experimental stuff, rap and disco 💃🏼 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?Sure have! I did it countless times this summer at the beach. There’s nothing more freeing than swimming naked in the ocean 💙30. How many pillows do you sleep with?Just one, but it’s a really good one. Oh and sometimes and extra one just to cuddle 31. What position do you usually sleep in?Fetus position is my fav but I’m trying not to do that cause it’s bad for your back32. How big is your house?Pretty big. Two stories plus a garage where my friends and I hang out. And also a two bedroom annex33. What do you typically have for breakfast?Toast or oatmeal with nuts and berries34. Have you ever fired a gun?No35. Have you ever tried archery?I tried it a couple of weeks ago and it was really fun! 36. Favorite clean word?I like words like clean and crystal and chemical 37. Favorite swear word?Fuck.38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?Don’t remember. Pretty long. But I’ve started to be very careful with sleep cause my mental health REALLY depends on it39. Do you have any scars?Lots. Anything from self-harm to getting burned by a marshmallow lmao40. Have you ever had a secret ?Bitch my whole personality used to be a secret. So yea a lot41. Are you a good liar?Yup. I’m very creative and anxious so if I feel like I’ve done something I shouldn’t I immediately have a good lie ready. Also I’ve had some problems with compulsive lying whoops42. Are you a good judge of character?Nooo not really cause I always feel bad for disliking ppl so I force myself to keep an open mind. But I’ve learned to just follow my instincts a bit more43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?I’m pretty good at like southern American accents and also an American accent In Danish is so fun and cute. 44. Do you have a strong accent?It’s pretty strong. I used to fake a British accent out of embarrassment but then I started feeling pretentious so I let it go45. What is your favorite accent?I love a Colombian accent and French ofc. Also Indian and Chinese. Oh and a lot of African ones too, especially the ppl from Congo! But I love accents in general. They’re literally my go to ASMR trigger46. What is your personality type?INFP47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?My winter jacket... my mom wanted to buy me one that was new and when we finally found one that didn’t give me dysphoria I was so excited I forgot to look at the price tag... and she just bought it for me anyway.48. Can you curl your tongue?Yea and I can stick it between my tooth gap49. Are you an innie or an outie?Outie all the way50. Left or right handed?Right51. Are you scared of spiders?No, I used to have pretty severe arachnophobia but i worked through it and now I actually really love them! Also I don’t care how scared you are of them, don’t you dare kill them in front of me! That makes me so uncomfortable. Just let me know there’s a spider and I’ll get it safely outside for you 52. Favorite food?Love sushi with crab meat or fried shrimp!53. Favorite foreign food?Well probably sushi? Lol. Or anything Italian!54. Are you a clean or messy person?Super messy but I’m trying my best!55. Most used phrased?“Bid I det sure æble”. Basically “bite the bullet” in English 56. Most used word?Probably bitch. I use it in an affectionate manner towards friends lmao57. How long does it take for you to get ready?Very, very long58. Do you have much of an ego?Yea I think so59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?Suck60. Do you talk to yourself?Nope. 61. Do you sing to yourself?Yes!62. Are you a good singer?I’m decent. Think I could get good if I got a vocal coach63. Biggest Fear?Getting ridiculed, being misunderstood and being unwanted 64. Are you a gossip?I love gossip...65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?I don’t really know sry!66. Do you like long or short hair?Love all hair. I love running my fingers through long hair. I prefer short hair for me tho67. Can you name all 50 states of America?LOL NO68. Favorite school subject?I really liked art and foreign language classes69. Extrovert or Introvert?HUGE introvert!70. Have you ever been scuba diving?No but I’d love to try it!71. What makes you nervous?Public embarrassment is a big one. But racism, homophobia, transphobia and misogyny will also make me very, very nervous.72. Are you scared of the dark?Not at all73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?Depends on the mistakes? Never on like grammar and stuff like that.74. Are you ticklish?Very. I can tickle myself. But then again I am schizophrenic lol75. Have you ever started a rumor?Once in high school my friends and I started a rumor that I was “a hermaphrodite” and we kept it going for years. At first it was just to fuck with people but then I started getting like a kick from it. For some reason I loved the idea of people thinking I was intersex. Aaaand that was the start of me getting gender identity issues lol76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?I used to teach dancing lessons for kids at a local church lol does that count?77. Have you ever drank underage?Only a couple of beers. But the drinking age is here is 15 so that’s not a huge problem 78. Have you ever done drugs?a couple of times. Done ecstasy and Valium once which was really fun. And I’ve tried speed a couple of times but it has no effect on me. I also love weed if you consider that a drug 79. Who was your first real crush?Had a huge crush on a guy at my boarding school. And also a girl at the school... they became a couple and I remember wanting to die asdgsa80. How many piercings do you have?None! Had a septum once, but I never had my ears pierced as a child or anything 81. Can you roll your Rs?“Yea82. How fast can you type?Pretty fast!83. How fast can you run?I’m not a great runner but I’m getting better84. What color is your hair?Blonde85. What color is your eyes?Green86. What are you allergic to?Nothing. Tho I do get allergic reactions to extreme swifts in temperature 87. Do you keep a journal?Yup!88. What do your parents do?Both retired now but my dad used to be a fisherman and my mom ran a daycare and later worked with elderly people who suffered from dementia. 89. Do you like your age?Yea?90. What makes you angry?It takes a lot to get me angry but unnecessary hate and harassment usually gets me to tick91. Do you like your own name?I really like it actually! 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?I have but I don’t remember them... think I repressed those daydreams when I decided never to bear children :(93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?Idc94. What are you strengths?Intellectuality, kindness, curiosity, creativity and bravery. Also I get a lot of praise for being so open and aware of my mental illnesses and for fighting so fiercely to get healthy. 95. What are your weaknesses?Bad self criticism, naïvety, laziness and having trouble asking for help and taking initiative 96. How did you get your name?My brother decided it.97. Were your ancestors royalty?Pff highly doubt it98. Do you have any scars?Already answered this99. Color of your bedspread?That really popular, white IKEA one with flowers100. Color of your room?White, although I cover them up with posters, drawings and sometimes literal trash when i get psychotic cause white walls make me hallucinate like crazyThis was a fucking blast!!! Thanks Kate 😚❤️

[ameliorator]

May Covid-19 be one of the greatest PSYOP ever? Some reflections on what is happening in Italy. [rough draft]

Disclaimer:

This article is just rought draft, so by definition it is incomplete.

I was initially asked by some foreign friends about what is happening in Italy: therefore, I decided to put some information in the same space, rather than having bits and pieces scattered all over the place.

This is not an academic paper, it is more like an open letter.

Its main goal is to push the reader to ask questions, questions, questions: nobody should presume to be a carrier of truth, but we all need to act humbly and cooperatively now.

You will notice that some concepts are repeated throughout the short text like a mantra: this is a deliberate devise, as those concepts are the most striking evidence supporting the analysis.

With this in mind, all the sections need additional depth and references to give breadth and strength to the research: needless to remark, any contribution from all of you is more than welcome.

If someone who reads this text by chance wants to wear the sordid mask of the debunker in order to attack me as a conspiracy theorist, he/she needs to note that all the sources (with a couple of exceptions) are either official pubblications, press releases, entries on Wikipedia or articles from the mainstream media.

Avoiding “antagonist” authors or websites is a precise choice to make crystal clear that all the information you need is in plain sight on your average news sources, and to avoid wasting time in useless diatribes.

The driving force behind the following text is just common sense, paired with an attitude which can be easily defined with the words of the controversial Timothy Leary: «To think for yourself you must question authority».

Please do the same all the time, all of you.

Thank you!

1. An introduction (or the core of this brief article?)

While we are several weeks into this unprecedented situation, there are too many elements that don’t make sense in the official narrative: a further analysis driven by mere common sense and rationality is needed.

Let’s use a holistic approach while dealing with what everyone who still keeps some lucidity in these dire times would eventually come to understand as an unprecedented act of psychological warfare, that may lead to unwanted (at least by a minority of people who still has a tendency to think independently) changes and transformations, which we are supposed to clarify and debate with attention before it is too late.

Therefore, let’s try for a few minutes to get far away from the media-fuelled compulsively obsessed state of mind which keeps all of us focused only on the origins of the virus ("Is it a natural occurrence? Is it the outcome of a chemical warfare attack coming from the U.S.A or China? ___add here your favorite version___?”) and its supposedly extreme deadliness.

The starting point for this thesis is that any situation of “emergency” or “crisis” is the perfect precondition to arbitrarily change the rules of the game.

We will clearly see how marginal in the equation is the virus itself, with its very low case fatality rate and mortality rate.

As of now, we will only focus on what is happening in Italy. Let’s go straight to the point: the draconian measures adopted are absolutely disproportionate, when compared to the seriousness of the current risk. Besides that, they are unconstitutional.

In fact, the series of “DPCM - Decreti del Presidente del Consiglio dei Ministri (prime minister’s decrees)” are mere administrative acts which, upon the pretext of the emergency caused by the virus, violate at least the articles 16, 25 and 77 of the Italian constitution.

Unfortunately this is becoming even more sinister, as the government added to the aforementioned “prime minister’s decree” some so-called “decreti-legge” (decrees-law). Therefore, while the violation of article 77 of the Italian constitution is no longer the case, the scenario looks even worse. Let’s read a quickly translated excerpt of the Wikipedia article about the topic (which is in Italian only, of course):

« In the Italian legal system a decree-law (plural decrees-law and abbreviated in dl), also written decree law, is a provisional regulatory act having force of law, adopted in extraordinary cases of necessity and urgency by the Government, pursuant to art. 77 of the Constitution of the Italian Republic. It comes into force immediately after publication in the Official Gazette of the Italian Republic, but the effects produced are temporary, because the decrees-laws lose their effectiveness if Parliament does not convert them into law within 60 days of their publication».

The risk is that these totalitarian measures which Italians are experiencing at the moment, first introduced with an administrative act (the “prime minister’s decree”, emergency-based and basically worthless), then strengthened with another temporary measure (the “decree-law”, valid only for 60 days), might be finally converted into ordinary laws.

This might mean that some important aspects of the way Italians live their lives might be modified for good: beware, not according to the standardized procedures of the legislative process, but through the aforementioned stratagem (through the “backdoor”, so to say).

If you want to have a look at the series of DPCMs and Dls related to the Covid-19, please check the “Gazzetta Ufficiale”.

You would justify this scenario and the lockdown of an entire country in case of a plague, a major war or some alien attack: on the other hand, the culprit is a virus which up to now killed around 3,300 people in China, a country which counts around 1,435,000,000 inhabitants according to the 2017 Census (0.000002 per cent of the population. Yes, you read it right: there are 5 zeros after the comma).

Now, you can tell me that the law enforcement in China is what you expect from an authoritarian state and that the measures which were adopted in order to achieve the so-called “containment” of the contagion are even stricter than in Italy, with drones, robots, face recognition, tracking of the population via phone apps and all sort of available technology for surveillance and control.

An Orwellian nightmare, you would say, but again: for the risk posed by a virus which eventually would bring a few thousand deaths out of more than 1 and half a billion people?

This is nonsensical, and there is a growing number of scientists who is at least puzzled by the panic generated by this novel coronavirus.

If you want to watch a somehow “watered-down” (because it was not shot in Wuhan, the epicenter of the first contagion) version of what is described above, please have a look at this Japanese short documentary on the major Chinese city of Nanjing (taken from an Italian news website, but luckily the video is in the original language with English subtitles).

Moreover, it is now common knowledge that there are potentially millions of asymptomatic carriers, while millions more both in China and outside could have been affected by the virus at least between October 2019 (don’t forget that the virus has “19” for 2019 in its name, not “20” for 2020) and the beginning of January 2020, totally unaware of it.

So what’s the problem now? The ruling elites tell us through their spokespersons in the government (starting from the prime minister) that we have to prevent the contagion from spreading because the Italian healthcare system is collapsing. Why is that? Is it because of this specific disease? Clearly not.

Is it because of more than 3 decades of widespread adoption of the western neoliberal dogma which led to privatizations, shrinking and closure of hospitals, extreme cost-cutting and reduction of personnel? Well, yes.

If you are familiar with the Italian language or you are keen to use a translator, please have a look at this report. To have an additional reference on the effects of such phenomenon in a different country, you can read a much shorter newspaper article here.

After this pretty long introduction, let’s have a quick look at some aspects of this situation.

2. “Simulations”

In recent years, the ruling elites that shape the dominant narrative are telling us that it is necessary to be ready for a pandemic: besides the constant recommendations (which inspire in me more than a suspicion, but that’s only my humble reaction), they indulge in exercises and simulations to assess the potential readiness of governments and international organizations in dealing with such a scenario.

Recently, a lot of talking surrounded the simulation dubbed “Event 201”, organized by the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security in September 2019: beyond all the so-called conspiracy theories, at least some doubts arise about the timing and the chosen theme.

While their previous major simulation on the preparation to react to a pandemic as a result of a natural occurrence or bacteriological war is from 2005 (2-3 years AFTER the emergence of SARS, which – for those who still remember the propaganda machine at the time- was advertised as potentially leading to millions of deaths, but eventually resulted in a few thousands), this last simulation was carried out and published only a couple of months BEFORE the spread of Covid-19.

Macroscopic coincidences like this cannot be dismissed light-heartedly, especially when even kids nowadays know that one of the richest individuals in the world is actively both predicting scenarios AND prescribing solutions against pandemics.

Keeping on using some old-fashioned common sense and rationality as our only guides, we might ask ourselves: are these the acts of a good-hearted “philanthropist” or the very interested maneuvers of someone who is having a huge conflict of interest, being involved in vaccines development and SURVEILLANCE for decades with his Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation? Going back to the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security (and, by the way, am I the only one who reads on their website “Johns Hopkins - Bloomberg School of Public Health”? We are talking about one of the richest individuals in the world – well, yet ANOTHER one1), you can compare the 2005 simulation (“Atlantic Storm”) with the 2019 simulation (the already mentioned “Event 201”).

A video recap of the latter is here.

Isn’t that strange that they constantly refer to the possibility of a deliberate release of a virus generating a pandemic? Pretty strange, isn’t it?

Please ask questions and make your own considerations, I am not adding anything else on this subject for now.

3. Some extremely quick historical references to similar pandemics

The main point here is to give some background to the repressive measures adopted while dealing with the current pandemic and hypothesize the potential scenarios2 in which all or some of them are maintained in the phase following the “containment” (see above for the stratagem used in Italy, which might lead to major changes in the Italian legislation by means of using the backdoor: this is completely anti-democratic).

In this regard, a crucial consideration is the following: the 1918 pandemic (the "Spanish flu3") caused between 17,000,000 and 50,000,000 deaths (other sources speak of 100,000,000), while so far we can use data from China (which is in an advanced phase of the "containment", even if it is not yet "out of danger") for an incomplete comparison with this Covid-19: in the Asian country, we are dealing with around 3,300 deaths out of around 1,435,000,000 Chinese citizens registered in the 2017 census (0.000002 % of the population). You will read these stats on the deaths caused by the novel coronavirus in China over and over again: this is done on purpose, as a red alert for our brains.

With this simple consideration in mind, we can easily realize that we are already going too far with this unprecedented experiment of transformation and individual and social re-programming, under the pretext of the virus.

A little glimpse on the last two decades: had not the SARS, the MERS and the 2009’s iteration of H1N1 been described as pandemics “with potentially millions of deceases” when they magically appeared?

In this regard, let’s use again Wikipedia and read about the 2009’s iteration of H1N1 (the so-called “swine flu”), which had both the highest case fatality rate and mortality rate among the aforementioned pandemics: “Meanwhile, some studies estimated that 11 to 21 per cent of the global population at the time – or around 700 million to 1.4 billion people (out of a total of 6.8 billion) – contracted the illness. This was more than the number of people infected by the Spanish flu pandemic,[6][11] but only resulted in about 150,000 to 575,000 fatalities for the 2009 pandemic.[12] A follow-up study done in September 2010 showed that the risk of serious illness resulting from the 2009 H1N1 flu was no higher than that of the yearly seasonal flu.[13] For comparison, the WHO estimates that 250,000 to 500,000 people die of seasonal flu annually.[8] ”

This seems pretty crystalline, right?

4. “... but hospitals are collapsing!”

The concept of “herd immunity” heralded in the UK hypothesized a scenario of millions of serious cases, so this seems to be yet another act of propaganda aimed at instilling fear and panic (please stay focused on what I keep on repeating about China: until now, a mere 0.00002% of the population died. How can everybody ignore that huge elephant in the room?), but in Italy they decided to do quite the opposite: they bring everyone who is showing symptoms (albeit especially acute) to intensive care units, so that the already underfunded and understaffed hospitals collapse.

This is the worst part of playing with people’s lives and emotions: do you think it is a standard procedure to admit everyone who has been infected by the seasonal influenza (albeit severely) to an intensive care unit? The answer is no, due to the limited availability of beds and equipment (which is shrinking for decades, as you can clearly understand with the help of the report mentioned in the introduction).

In the worst case scenario, the infected die in their houses, maybe without even being counted in the statistics of people dying for the seasonal influenza on a yearly basis (and the World Health Organization - not your local conspiracy theorist - estimates that 250,000 to 500,000 people die of seasonal flu annually, as seen above).

Those poor souls might be put into the accounts of other diseases they already have (comorbidities) or simply be accounted as victims of the inescapable process of aging: there is no clear standard on which “box” to use when the calculation of the deceased is performed.

With this in mind, when you create such a panic and you let everyone who is diagnosed with the Covid-19 be admitted to intensive care, what do you think you will get? A total CHAOS.

Besides, did anybody ask the relevant authorities what are the risks and collateral effects of testing drugs for Ebola or malaria on patients affected with Covid-19?

I would be extremely curious to have a full report on the effects on people who are already sick and/or old, besides merely knowing what are the ongoing experiments.

But, of course, they are feeding all of us with the dramatic story about the pain and suffering of Italian people and the collapsing healthcare system in Italy, without providing even the slightest motivation for this state of things.

Beware, I am not saying that the healthcare system is not actually collapsing: I am just inferring that this might be INDUCED.

Why would you otherwise justify the fact that our “heroic government” did not proceed with a requisition of all the private clinics/hospitals in the country from DAY ONE of the emergency?

Weren’t we all supposed to make sacrifices for the common good, for the sick and the elderly, for our overwhelmed medical personnel?

Well, apparently “some animals are more equal than others”.

Now they are talking about this topic of requisitioning and some regions got ready or are getting ready for such a “bothering” task: why so late? Why don’t we ask such a question?

As we will see in a very clear way in a moment, the average age of people accounted for having died since the outbreak and up to now in Italy is around 80 years. Besides, all the cases of deaths under the age of 60 are related to one or more comorbidities (when it comes to the statistics, let’s state once more that it seems that there is no clear agreement among at least the bulk of the major European countries when differentiating between deaths with Covid-19 and deaths due to Covid-19, i.e. HEALTHY people who died because they were infected with the virus).

For this reason, at the moment we can only rely on the analysis of the most precise data available to us: a good example of how crucial is a higher level of detail could be the study on the case fatality rate and characteristics of the deceased performed by the Italian Istituto Superiore di Sanità4, which you can download and read here. Regular updates can be found here.

What is really striking in this study is the plain fact that only 6 out of 481 deaths in that sample had no comorbidity (1.2%). This means that  98.8% of the deceased were having from 1 to 3 comorbidities (pre-existing health conditions). The mean age was 78.5.

In other words, those people were old and/or sick (suffering from 1 to 3 diseases), meaning at high risk of dying for whatever infection/additional disease pairing with their pre-existing health conditions. This is a clear and undeniable statement, which leaves little room to the provoked scare of “millions of deaths”. Talking about millions, do we really understand how many millions of people could have already been infected with the virus (and come out of it) in the months before the so-called "emergency"? They might have confused it with bronchitis, pneumonia, a severe form of seasonal influenza or simply not have noticed it because it presented itself in an asymptomatic form.

Even the Center for Disease Control and Prevention in the U.S.A. indirectly admitted that the virus was already around for quite a long time (at least from the period of the last seasonal influenza, which is what matters now) and they might have miscategorized it: this, in turn, led to accusations from the Chinese government to the U.S.A. (but that’s another story and we won’t deal with it at the moment).

5. 60 million people under house arrest

What is the outcome of such an orchestrated mass psychosis? There are 60 million Italians who currently slaughter each other (on social networks and from the safety of their houses, of course) to defend their theses on the origin of the virus, offending each other for being either a conspiracy theorist or a dumb brainless individual, basically erasing each other’s position in a useless chatter (while wasting useful time and energies which should be devoted to figure out how to stop this).

Everyone is under house arrest, of course (because going out to buy groceries and medicines is NOT freedom of movement): in the meantime, the unconstitutional measures go from a restriction to another, inspiring (or not really?) other countries to do the same.

Theoretically we could (well, ahem, practically we are forced to) accept, obviously for a limited period of time, the prohibitions of gathering and meeting in "public" places, but forbidding a solitary walk in the countryside is unjustified, illogical and intolerable.

All of this is forced upon us due to the state of emergency that is based on provoked fear, which clashes with the basic common sense and especially with the already mentioned data from the Istituto Superiore di Sanità: if the statistics follow the same trend (and there is currently no indication that this will change), in more than 95% of the cases, the elderly and sick (with 1 to 3 comorbidities) die, with absolutely negligible figures when it comes to the total numbers of dead people against the overall population (once more, let’s keep on repeating it as a mantra, 0.000002% of the population in China died), especially if compared to the absolutely many more deaths per year due to war, famine, other diseases and all sort of accidents.

Once more, do those people die

DUE TO Covid-19

or

WITH Covid-19 AND 1 to 3 comorbidities?

Simple question: are those statistics reliable?

Once more, there are millions of asymptomatic carriers and millions more who might have contracted the disease before the WHO and the other big actors in what seems a big theatre-play gave it a name (as an experiment to prove what I am suggesting here, please ask your loved ones and friends or colleagues who felt sick between November 2019 and January 2020) and used it as a pick to change the "rules of the game". For these reasons, I keep repeating to observe and analyse the whole picture with a holistic approach, but leaving for a moment the origin and supposed deadliness of the virus out of the equation.

I call it psychological warfare because by means of this constant brainwashing the ruling elite keeps us in a cage and verbally fighting one against the other, under the pretext of the virus (which reproduces the classic them/us, bad/good, right/left dichotomies, in this case natural event/bacteriological weapon or, if you are in geopolitics, NATO/SCO), while the puppeteers use their puppets that are “in charge” for governing us to impose a totally unacceptable and unprecedented situation.

Mind you: not for the plague, smallpox, leprosy, world war, a nuclear explosion, aliens (!!!), but for one of the about 40 species of Coronaviridae, with a clear pattern when it comes to the case fatality rate, which is strongly linked to the characteristics of the infected (whether they are old and/or sick) while the mortality rate is even lower (as shown by the case of China up to now).

On top of that, everybody is asking for a vaccine, even if there is little or no doubt that it might prove completely worthless (because viruses keep on mutating, as you can read in whatever official source of your choice).

Isn’t it enough?

6. Why Lombardy?

A lot of people started linking the spread of Covid-19 with the rollout of 5G in Wuhan. I wouldn't go so far as to hypothesize a direct causality.

None the less, even almost 10 years ago, in a press release from 2011, the World Health Organization / International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC) classified radiofrequency electromagnetic fields as possibly carcinogenic to humans.

The mentioned research referred only to the damage of cellphones, at best with the 3G technology (4G was massively deployed only from 2011 onwards): as we are running faster towards the new generation (the 5G itself 5), the link between the damages to the immune system deriving from the continuous exposure to radiofrequency electromagnetic fields and the occurrence of contracting diseases should be clear to everyone. Of course, all the sycophants of Big Pharma and also the pro-technology lobbies will keep on denying it, but as usual time will tell.  

It sounds like a very strange coincidence, but guess where both the Italian company TIM and the well-known Vodafone started the rollout of 5G in Italy? Yes, ladies and gentlemen: Milan (described by Vodafone as the European capital of 5G in the above linked article) and the whole region of Lombardy!

Moreover, and again not hypothesizing a direct causality, guess where is the epicentre in Lombardy? The cities and provinces of Bergamo and Brescia.

What happened there just before the spread of Covid-19, besides the fact that they were graced with this amazing new technology? Well, in those provinces public institutions took care of a mass vaccination against meningitis (they even wanted to clearly highlight that it was for free for those up to 60).

Without articulating the matter with too much depth, let’s keep on using some old-age common sense (or maybe 50 studies?) and realize that even kids (ahem, especially them) know that vaccines have some disturbing side effects when it comes to the immune system.

On top of that, guess what is one the worst and THE largest geographical area in Europe impacted by pollution due to PM 2.5, which causes very well known and documented respiratory diseases? Lombardy (and all the other heavily industrialized parts of Northern Italy, which are showing the highest number of cases)!

Have a look at this official publication by the European Environment Agency and scroll the page for this emblematic figure (pay special attention to the red level). This latter evidence alone would suffice to understand why the virus hit so hard those areas.

All this considered, what do you think about the circumstance of having these high levels of different forms of pollution AND the hotbed of Covid-19 in the same places? I keep on asking myself questions.

7. Positive aspects VS dystopian scenarios

Taking out of the account the incredible restriction of freedom and the nightmarish mass profiling, nobody could underestimate how good is for the environment to temporarily halt all the man-made pollution on such a large scale, and this is something we all should be happy for.

A lot of people are forced to rediscover their family ties, which is surely a great thing.

Moreover, hundreds of thousands are getting used to remote working (which was sort of a taboo topic in Italy until a couple of months ago): this may lead to good opportunities to achieve a better work/life balance, especially for mothers of young kids or for those who can’t afford a caretaker for the elders or any sick member of their families.

Some behavioral changes might be for the good, and we can only be hoping (especially if we are let free to choose, of course) that those traits will stay when the emergency ends.

None the less, there are some heavily dark clouds on the horizon. Are you ready for the dystopian scenarios?

Well, I am sorry: I won’t be your Charon.

As clarified in the disclaimer, I don’t want to get trapped in the counterproductive dichotomy conspiracy theorist/debunker. I am just trying to use my brain and analyse the potential outcomes of the course of actions led by an official narrative which makes no sense (as shown before and as it should be already clear to you, once you start asking questions).

Apologies, but I can’t stop myself from repeating that the keys here are common sense and rationality.

I won’t describe anything in detail, just check for yourself the Real ID project, the ID20206 Alliance, the role of GAVI in setting agendas and shaping policies, especially when it comes to their dream of mandatory vaccines, traceable with a very nice and tiny new system.

Of course, we all hope that no dystopia is going to come true (it really depends on whether we create or not a critical mass of critical thinkers, in my humble opinion) and that one day soon we will all wake up from this nightmare and go back to our “normal” lives: if it’s the contrary, though, please do not say that nobody alerted you!

All the best, my friends!

Sincerely,

Raffaele Amelio

1  Here is a story about another one of our favorite top-10 billionaires, who recently made some additional profits by a stroke of luck (NOT due to insider trading, of course).

2 One easy example to see how they want to make it seem “inevitable”: http://www.ansa.it/amp/sito/notizie/cronaca/2020/03/23/coronavirus-cambia-moduo-autocertificazione.-arrivano-i-droni-per-i-controlli_b6fa411d-89ac-46db-b247 -148735e6eab6.html  

First part of the title: The paper form (to fill and sign and show to the cops in order to justify why you are out of your cage) is changed. Second part of the title: Drones arrive for patrolling. A nice way to communicate it, right?

3 When it comes to the Spanish flu, what a strange case of coincidence (or is it what someone calls “predictive programming”?) one can find in this article on USA Today from December 2019!

4 In another article of the Italian news agency Ansa, referring to a previous study by ISS with less cases (355, on the 17th of March), you can read the following excerpt (translated from the original Italian): «Only 0.8% of the victims had no other pathologies - says Bernabei - while 25% had one, another 25% two and 48% three. And only 10% were under 60 years old. They are the results of an ISS study on 355 medical records of the first victims of the coronavirus. "The fact that photographs the reality well - says the member of the technical scientific committee - is that the real risk factor is that of having a geriatric age and concomitant pathologies, hypertension, ischemic heart disease, diabetes above all, which find fertile ground. This is what explains the excess mortality»

5 The 5G has a peak data rate up to 10 times faster and a connection density per km² up to 1000 times higher than 4G, with a very short reach. In other words, more cells are required and they need to be placed closer to each other than the cells used to support the previous generations. On top of this, think about the fact that the number of connected devices is destined to grow exponentially, with hundreds of millions of smart “things” (in the “magic” world of IoT) just waiting for us to be used by them ;-)

6 https://www.biometricupdate.com/201909/id2020-and-partners-launch-program-to-provide-digital-id-with-vaccines

This work is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License

[maryscott-photography]

BA (Hons) Photographic Arts

Major Project 1 

Research Report

Name

Mary Scott E Journal - maryscott-photography.tumblr.com

Major Project Title

(Or working title - how and why did this title develop?)

I have not yet got a finalised title for this project, however I plan for it to involve the date, day and/or location of my images, as this will be important to give some more insight into what they are and where they were made.The title may also include the words sea and cyanotype in some way, due to the fact that without this information, people often mistake my work for drawings or paintings. 

I am currently playing with the idea of captioning each individual image with even further detail, such as the date and time that each specific print was made. So for example, my project may be called something similar to “Sea Cyanotypes - November 2018 - March 2019.” And each caption may be something like “04.12.18 - 14:22.” These idea’s are still far from final, but I am aware that the title of my project is extremely important, so that the technicalities and process of the project are noticed by my audience. 

Research Methods

(What methods have you used during this phase of the project and how have they helped you develop your ideas and inform your major project proposal?)

My photographic practice has almost consistently used the cyanotype process now for 2 years, so with this as a starting point I initially began to experiment with the technique further than I have done previously. I bought my own chemicals to use at home, to practice the technique using sunlight instead of the UV light machine at uni. From doing this at home using plants, I realise I could try using water, to wash off parts of the chemical, and expose the rest. I then started researching artists who have done similar things; people such as Susan Derges and Meghann Ripenhoff, and realised this technique could make a really interesting large scale project. 

My work has also been centred around the sea since I can remember, growing up in Bournemouth and using the sea as my place of comfort since I was young. In recent years the sea has shown me a darker side, taking a member of my family, and proving just how powerful it can be. This strong relationship I have now developed with it, makes me want to push my limits, and make a project that sees me interacting both physically and mentally with the water. It then seemed obvious to take my cyanotype water experiments and try them out using the sea. This worked so well, that I plan to keep perfecting this technique for my final major project, until I have a series of slightly abstract, large scale cyanotypes. 

Pilot Project

(What have you achieved through the development of your pilot project/s? What have you learned from the process? Identify the main concepts that might direct or drive your major project.)

From practicing this technique, I have undoubtably come across some problems that I’ve had to learn from and overcome. The main one being that I need bright, direct sunlight, and I have been making this work in the hight of the British winter, where sunlight isn’t an everyday occurrence. I also have the struggle of needing to get to the seaside, from London, whenever the possibility of the sun appears. This therefore isn’t reliable or cost affective, and means that a lot of my project will need to be made in a couple of months time, however, it has still been possible to make quite a few prints, despite the weather. 

Another hurdle I have overcome is the fragility of the technique; with the strength of the sea against delicate paper, I have experienced some rips and tears in my work. However, upon feedback, I am okay with this to continue, as I’m letting nature dictate how my prints come out, and imperfections caused my the sea, sand, wind or any other surroundings will eventually add to, and complete my project.

I am glad to have identified these problems early, as I now know what to do to overcome them, and I feel prepared for my major project, and the obstacles it may throw my way. 

Audience and Context

(Has a consideration of Context and Audience made you think about your project in a particular way? Have you been aware of the histories, conventions and audience expectations of particular contexts? Have you considered different contexts and how have you responded to them?)

I’ve had struggles with this project in terms of audience, and audience reaction, as a lot of people can’t recognise my abstract cyanotypes as being photography, or even cyanotypes. I constantly get asked if they’re drawings, paintings or spray painted, and even if the cyanotype process has been recognised, the fact that it’s an image of the sea, is almost never apparent to an audience.

These audience reactions are why I have decided it’s necessary to have a clear title to my project, and possibly a description, or video of the process alongside, to make it clear exactly how I’ve made it. 

Production and Presentation

(Discuss the production methods you have been exploring through your pilot project. What effects do these different approaches/ visual strategies have on the work?  What choices have you made in the refinement of your visual approach and why? Is the approach you have chosen effective in communicating your ideas to the identified audience?)

The main visual method I want to keep consistent in this project is the composition of the way in which the water hits the paper. The only other artist I’ve found that makes work similar to my project is Meghann Ripenhoff, and she allows the water to hit the paper to create a splash. To keep my visuals different from hers, but also in line with the type of seascape photography I usually make, I want to create a linear wave across the centre of the page on each print, and hopefully have it displayed in a line, joined up, at the exhibition. 

Another visual I am still experimenting with is the material in which I am printing on. At the moment I am using paper, and experimenting with different qualities and textures. However, at the very beginning of the process, I was adamant that I want to print onto fabric and have more of an instillation piece, with large pieces of fabric the viewer could touch and walk through. If I have time, I will still experiment with this idea, or at very least, the idea of fabric hanging on the wall. 

Visual References / Bibliography

(List the key visual and critical references you have explored during the research process. Discuss how useful these references were for the project and what you learned from them).

As mentioned, my main reference for this project is cyanotype artist Maghann Ripenhoff. As she uses water and the sea to create cyanotypes. I have tried not to reference her too often when making my work, as I am conscious of my project being too similar to hers, however her technical process has been a big part of my research. 

Another artist in which I constantly refer to in my photography, when photographing the sea in particular, is Hiroshi Sugimoto and his famous project ‘seascapes’. I have always attempted to capture the horizon with the simplicity that he does, and in this project I am almost trying to mimic that, but in an abstract manner, making him a less obvious reference. 

I always try to read to influence my work, reading poems about home, the sea and nostalgia, as well as writing my own. This helps me feel a connection to the places I capture, and understand other peoples connections to these places too.

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one in which Hanzo is an expatriate art student whose life just got wildly complicated, Jesse is an occasionally leather-clad and frequently beleaguered NPS ranger, weird stuff is going on in the desert south of Santa Fe, and it’s all because I can’t write a plotless porny one-shot to save my life.

Also: this is all @gunnslaughter ‘s fault.

Chapter Two is now complete and I’m going to start posting to AO3 in the interests of making sure nobody misses any important bits.

The first thing he became aware of, once he realized there were things to be aware of, was the voice. It was a beautiful voice, rich and dark and warm, and the mere act of hearing it was the sweetest comfort he’d ever known, better than laying under the  kotatsu on a cold winter evening and watching the snow fall gently over the garden in the deep blue of the twilight, better than the exquisite release of tension as he loosed an arrow on the firing range, better than finding the precise shade of color to fully express the mood he attempting to evoke in his work. It wound around him and through him, buoying up his mind and soul on arms of song, and at that moment he realized the voice was singing, a song whose words he did not know, in a language he did not recognize, but which he understood nonetheless: it was calling him back, and he let it take him, up out of the dark-cold-nothing.

He became aware, next, of the solidity of his own existence, of the flesh and bone, blood and skin, that made up the body in which he lived, and of exactly how much that body hated every single thing about him and itself at that very moment. His head felt fragile, brittle, like an overbaked piece of clay sculpture fresh out of the kiln, waiting for the clumsiest intern in the Fine Arts department to come along and jostle it just hard enough to set off a chain reaction of events that would end in screaming, ambulance sirens, and intravenous sedatives administered en route to a mandatory seventy-two hour psych hold following a spontaneous attempted murder. It wasn’t quite pain so much as the threat of pain, the suggestion that the slightest hint of movement, necessary or otherwise, would result in a physical punishment vastly at odds with the severity of the offense, and so he concluded that holding still was likely the kindest thing he could do for himself. The rest of his body assisted by virtue of feeling as though it were carved from a single slab of lead or osmium or some other incredibly dense substance that would require genuinely heroic human efforts to heft around, thereby fully justifying his decision to behave as a basically sessile mass. Also helpful: the knowledge that something was holding him down. Well, okay, maybe not holding him down in the sense of restraining him from actually doing anything but someone definitely had their hands on him. Pressed to his chest, as a matter of fact -- his bare chest, it felt like, because that was definitely some skin-on-skin warmth transfer happening, callused, long-fingered hands spread across the breadth of his pectoralis major, tips of the thumbs just touching. Someone’s weight was settled firmly astride his hips, a sensation that would have been emphatically erotic under pretty much any other circumstance but at the moment did not seem to carry that connotation and none of the relevant equipment seemed interested in picking it up.

Still. Someone was touching him. He supposed, in a vague and not particularly enthusiastic way, that he should be at least a little bit concerned with that. Not enough to put any effort into stopping it, but enough to actually determine what was going on. That seemed like a reasonable idea. Yes, yes it surely did.

This is going to suck beyond the telling of it. The thought articulated itself verbally from amidst the inchoate mass of hazily good intentions, sending a frisson of dread through the threadbare fabric of his being, the essence of realism making itself felt. Then, before the essence of realism could graduate to the essence of fuck no, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself, he opened his eyes.

His eyelids parted with a sensation like silk tearing along a sharply folded seam. Until that moment, he would have sworn that eyelashes did not actually contain any nerve endings; afterwards, he would never again be so certain, because at that instant each one felt as though it were an exquisitely sensitive filament of something extremely fragile that shattered into a million shards of agony as they parted. His eyes watered, uncontrollably, reducing everything to either a dark blur or a bright blur of acid-washed torment as he blinked furiously in an effort to clear them, breath catching in his throat as something, probably a shriek of some variety, tried to claw its way out of his chest. He took a deep, heaving breath and the hands on his chest lifted away, the weight astride him shifted slightly, and sound he realized he’d been hearing all along stopped.

“Hanzo?” He knew that voice -- it sounded like he felt, rough and broken, as though its owner had been talking, or singing, for hours without cease. “Can you hear me?”

He blinked, thrice, and the blur cohered: Ranger McCree, leaning over him, painted knuckles to navel in...tattoos? It couldn’t be tattoos, he’d seen the man’s arms before, the pattern on them a thing of intricate and interlocking geometric forms, there was no way he would have overlooked it. He swallowed, hard, and found his lips and tongue and throat completely unequal to the task of making even the smallest sound.

“Oh, thank all the gods that ever were.” The look that crossed his face was a thing of pure and perfect relief. Hanzo could have sworn there were actual tears in his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Lost? Moving his jaw set off a warning throb in his temples, the promise of more to come if he wasn’t careful, and he closed his eyes, trying to force the insides of his skull and the current situation to come together in any way that made sense, to no particular avail. One of the strong, warm hands that had until recently been resting on his chest moved up to cup his face gently -- so gently he leaned into it, so warm and so comforting he would have reached up to pull him closer if he could have.

“You need to rest. Really rest. This took a lot out of you and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never should have taken you with me.” It came out a husky rasp, almost directly against his ear, and both those hands framed his face, warm chapped lips brushed his forehead, and he wanted to ask what there was to be sorry for but already the strength he needed to do so was fading, the weight of physical and mental exhaustion pulling him down into a gray and sensationless place where no pain could reach.

*

When Hanzo finally woke up it was completely and all at once -- admittedly, not an unnatural or even unusual event, considering he was normally the first person up and out on any given day. The strange part was that, for at least the second time in recent memory, he was looking up at a completely unfamiliar ceiling: large wooden beams, carved their lengths with repeating geometric motifs, picked out against the dark wood in vivid red and gold, white and ocher, latillas of paler wood laid perpendicular between each beam. Absolutely not the ceiling in any room of the three bedroom condo he rented with his brother, his brother’s boyfriend, and his brother’s two least objectionable classmates. For a long, long moment, he stared blankly up at it, appreciating the aesthetic qualities, the way the lighter wood of the latillas gave the illusion of the ceiling being higher than it actually was, the way the carvings drew the eye the whole length of the room. Dusky, Santa Fe red walls almost bare of adornment except for a few framed photographs. Three tall, slender windows, not quite floor to ceiling, framed in rough wooden lintels carved and painted in the same patterns as the ceiling supports, exterior shutters closed. The light he was using to see came entirely from the kiva sculpted into the corner nearest where he lay, a low fire burning behind an iron mesh grate. A standing wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a single chest at the foot of the bed, the bedstead itself, all of heavy, dark, old wood.

A bed. He acknowledged to himself that he was laying on a bed, which seemed...strange, for some reason. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, or why that disquieted him at some level. It wasn’t an uncomfortable bed -- his feet weren’t hanging off the bottom, for example, and from his position in the middle of the mattress, he was in no danger of rolling off either side. Said mattress felt, to him, at least semi-firm, the pillows were several and not yet to the point of being slept flat, the blankets warm and soft and enveloping him completely -- he almost felt as though he’d been tucked in. He shifted slightly, stretching his wonderfully pain-free spine, buried his face in a pillow and the scent that rose from it was cedar-sage-spice and a single blinding instant he remembered where he was if not how he had come to be there and all-but teleported out of Ranger McCree’s bed.

Ranger McCree’s bed.

He was sleeping in his rescuer’s bed.

A frantic look around secured the calming information that he was, in fact, alone. A well-padded chair and footstool sat between the bed and the fireplace, a rumpled blanket and a throw-pillow still providing evidence occupation, though how recently he couldn’t begin to guess. A glance down showed him still dressed in soft-washed comfortable sweats, tee-shirt, socks, so whatever had caused him to be upgraded to the full bedroom accommodations had not, apparently, involved any other upgrades or side-grades or grades that would earn him weeks of helpful suggestions from Genji about what he should have done in this situation on the chance that he made mention of this to his brother, which he absolutely would not, ever. The bedroom door was against his back and, moving slowly and with care, he worked the wrought iron latch and slid it open an inch, to peer out into the hallway. It was, in fact, the same hall that led to the bathroom and the kitchen beyond, walls painted the cheerful yellow that caught and kept the sunlight. In the kitchen, the dishes were done and sitting in the rack to dry, but the quality of the light coming through the windows had changed, reflected rather than direct, much later in the day. He drifted to the arched doorway that separated the kitchen from the room of all purpose and found his host sitting at the dining table, back to him, a map spread out in front of him pinned down at each corner with a basalt block carved in the shape of an owl, a stack of reference texts, two college ruled notebooks, and a package of pens. From the angle of his head and neck, he was examining it; from the angle of his shoulders and his spine, he was not enjoying what he was seeing.

Hanzo took a breath to speak but before he could expel it, someone landed a thunderous knock on the door and a voice, deeper than the ranger’s by a whole octave and twice as raspy announced, “Garden of the Desert, special delivery!”

The eyeroll was clearly audible in the ranger’s voice. “It’s not locked, Gabe!”

“It fucking should be!” The windowless door swung open and a mass of swirling, hissing smoke, curling shadows, flickering dark wings flowed inside, the door slamming firmly shut and all the locks lining it flicking shut behind it. Hanzo retreated a step, two, blinked, and the smoke-shadow-wings resolved into a human shape: a man, tall, broad shoulders and chest only barely disguised by the loose black jacket he wore, silver-dusted black hair and scarred dark skin and eyes that burned darkly crimson in the shadows of his hood. He was, incongruously, carrying a plastic shopping bag that he deposited on the table directly in the middle of the map; the ranger promptly moved it aside. “So distracted that you’re neglecting basic physical security precautions, now? Does this have anything to do with the call I hear you made over to Roadie?”

“I am wearing twelve reasons why anybody who tries to come through that door uninvited is going to have a genuinely bad day.” The ranger replied, tone amused. “And y’all are still too young to be this much of a gossipy old fart.”

“I’m going to parse that out into an overall complement, for your sake.” The newcomer -- Gabe? Gabe with the glowing red eyes? Was Gabe actually a smoke monster? Hanzo had no idea and was too paralyzed with shock and indecision to either guess or scream or retreat -- pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Spill it, kid. You’ve got six kinds of doom written all over you.”

The ranger -- Jesse, his name is Jesse, you can think his name, it’s Jesse -- scrubbed his hands over his face, shoulders dropping as he did so. “Yes, it’s got something to do with the call I made to Roadie. And the order I just made so -- “

“Custom blended to your precise specifications by Ana’s own hands, new tea bell inclusive. And a fresh bottle of that shampoo Jack makes that you love so much.” Gabe grinned and, for a completely horrifying instant, his mouth stretched entirely too wide and contained far, far too many sharp white teeth to be anything identifiably human. “For the record: Jamie called and asked if I’d be willing to ride shotgun so you can presume I already know about the broken-down car at the outer edge of the Red Zone. So just cut to the chase and tell me how it got there.”

Jesse pushed an object otherwise concealed behind the bulk of his body across the table: the dedicated shot composition camera that usually lived in the pockets of his bookbag. “Art student from the city. Per his testimony on the topic, he left Santa Fe on Friday morning for a day of inspiration-seeking among the ruins in the near vicinity of Shiprock -- both Shiprocks. While he was out there in the desert between the town and Tse Bit’a’í, he started experiencing technical issues with both his gear and his transportation. The GPS unit he was using completely freaked, dragged him somewhere around two hundred miles out into the Red Zone, and then almost back to safety before the car finally gave up and died. He walked, in the middle of the night, up from the edge and knocked on my door.”

“And you, of course, let him in.” Asperity thick enough to taste.

“He made it past the boundary maze.” Jesse replied, irritably. “Nothing purely from Beyond could get through there without -- “

“Without wearing enough stolen human flesh and blood and skin to pass and then come in here and tear your head off.” A hiss. “You are the entire reason I have gray hair right now, kid.”

“So you keep sayin’.” Dryly. “In any case, he did not tear my head off and, after describing the situation to me, I realized that our known zone of disruption is now way further to the west than it was even three months ago -- “

“And that whoever’s supposed to be monitoring the outer ward boundary is half-assing it pretty hard because everything they’re interested in protecting is still under Tse Bit’a’í’s shadow and nobody thought to call you so you could pick up the slack.”

“-- and that it might be developing some explicitly malevolent intent, because it dumped my guest almost on top of a nest of naayéé. An unusually active during the day nest of naayéé. Fortunately it was cold that night or he’d never have made it here otherwise.” He rested his head in his hands and, for an instant, he looked so utterly weary it was all Hanzo could do not to step into the room and try to comfort him. “And, of course, I screwed up at least once myself because when I went to check the car and see if I could avoid calling Roadie and Jamie, I took him with -- “

“Wow.” There was an entire lifetime of unsurprised nonreaction in that syllable.

“And he got a glimpse of one. In the rearview, so it was just the reflection but -- “

“Buuuuuuut it was enough to make you regret not leaving him here. Where he would be safe. Safer than anyplace else for dozens of miles all around.” Hanzo realized, in that instant, that there actually was someone on Earth more lethally sarcastic than his brother and it was sharing the room with him right now. “The next time Jack’s dog has puppies, you’re getting one. Maybe more than one. As an encouragement to stop adopting human strays.”

“Thank you so much for your understanding. I just spent the last...what day is it…?”

“Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!” Hanzo shouted, shocked out of his quiescence.

“I just spent the last three days singing his soul back into his body and then stitching them together again.” Jesse jiggled the bag gently. “Which is why I’m going to need this for him when he wakes up.”

“Oh.” Those burning crimson eyes flicked in his direction. “Well. You might want to see to that as a priority, kid, because he’s standing over there having an out of body experience and possibly a nervous breakdown.”

“Wh -- “ The ranger spun in his seat and locked eyes with him in the motion -- in any other circumstance, the look of dismay that crossed his face might’ve been comical. “Dammit, Gabe.”

“I see that my work here is done.” The smog monster/second most sarcastic human on Earth rose, dropped a fatherly pat on the ranger’s shoulder, and made for the door. “Coming over for fajitas tonight? We’re making enough to feed Reinhardt, so there’ll be plenty for you. And company, if he’s of a mind.”

“We’ll see.” The ranger growled -- really growled, his voice was gravelly enough for it just now -- and rose from his chair, hands outspread as though showing himself unarmed, despite the weapons he still wore, approaching slowly.

Hanzo bumped into the sink counter and realized as he did so that he was retreating, reflexively, that he could feel his pulse pounding in his throat, feel the breath catching in his lungs, his field of vision trying to tunnel at the edges. What he said cannot possibly be true, the calm voice of reason that ever and always sounded like his father murmured soothingly in the back of his mind, because it is impossible. None of this is possible. You are --

“I am totally losing my mind, aren’t I?” Hanzo asked, out loud. “Something really terrible happened to me out in the desert, and you’re just waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Go ahead. You can tell me. I promise I won’t freak out.”

“Something really terrible did happen out in the desert but, all things bein’ equal, it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been and, no, you ain’t losin’ your mind.” Softly, gently, and moving with the sort of slow care you’d use to avoid startling a skittish, injured animal. “And freakin’ out is a perfectly reasonable response, so if you do I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“Good to know.” A warm, strong hand came to rest in the small of his back and, before he could stop himself, he buried his face in the angle of Jesse’s neck and shoulder and clung as he shivered, convulsively, unable to stop through any desire of his own.

Warm, strong arms closed around him, carefully, holding him closely enough to offer comfort and support, loosely enough not to tip what was threatening to become a genuine panic attack over the edge, a pretty neat trick the still-rational part of his mind was forced to admit. The hand not anchored to the base of his spine caressed his back in long, slow strokes and came to rest in his hair as the frantic pace of his breath finally moderated itself. The not-at-all-rational part of his mind wondered what that would feel like without the impediment of clothing and that was all he needed to find the strength to step back, to bring himself back under control. Jesse, taking the cue from him, let him go.

“What happened to me?” Hanzo asked, catching his rescuer’s dark eyes and holding them.

And, to give him the credit he deserved, he didn’t look away. “The naayéé are...not of this world. Never have been, never will be, but sometimes they find their way here, one way or another. The ones you saw the other day are particularly unpleasant to encounter because of the effect they generally have on people. They’re predators. Lazy-ass predators, actually, that mostly like it dark and mostly like it hot and they generally don’t come out in the daylight or the cold, so I really didn’t think we’d see any of them but…” He gestured helplessly. “Yeah. Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen to you, it was completely my fuckup and -- “

“Jesse.” Hanzo interjected, with what he felt was admirable calm. “What happened to me?”

“They tried to eat your soul.” Jesse replied and immediately took a step towards him and rested a comforting hand on his arm. “Yanked it out through the sympathetic connection forged by the reflection you shared for a minute but I stopped things before it could get any further than that. It just took a while to coax your body and spirit back together -- you were in a couple different kinds of shock and it took some time to convince you that I wasn’t going to hurt you, too. Which was perfectly understandable given the circumstances.”

“I...see.” The still-rational part of his mind was screeching in high-pitched distress; the rest, however, was finally achieving an inner state of equilibrium that permitted him to hear and process this information without falling into any further pieces. “So I am...outside my body now. As your friend said.”

“Yes and I apologize, again. Gabe is pretty much made entirely out of antisocial tendencies at this point in his existence.” The comforting hand came to rest in the small of his back again. “We should probably put you back.”

“How can you be touching me if I’m not in my body?” Hanzo asked but nonetheless permitted himself to be guided down the now quite dark hallway.

“Circumstances have required me to master a number of fairly esoteric and nonstandard survival skills over the years.” Again, oh so very dryly as he opened the bedroom door.

“That’s not -- oh. Oh my.”

His body was, in fact, still laying in the bed, chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of sleep, hair spread almost artfully across one of the pillows, the firelight casting the planes of his face in coppery light and shadow. He blinked and took a deep breath and with a sudden, vertiginous wrench his perspective shifted and he was laying on his back in pillows and blankets and staring up at a carved and painted ceiling. With a certain amount of effort -- his thoughts felt laggy, like medicine head to a degree previously unheard of by modern science, and it took some time to convince his limbs to cooperate with one another -- he managed a sitting position against the headboard. Jesse sat on the edge of the bed and poured him a glass of water from the carafe sitting on the bedside table, which he consumed in a three swallows, and a second, which he drank more slowly.

His voice, when he spoke, was rusty with disuse. “It’s really Tuesday?”

“Tuesday afternoon. Almost evening, actually.” Jesse replied and offered another glass of water.

“I missed class. More than one class. I never miss class. I’ve got a midterm paper due tomorrow and two exams next week. My brother might actually be worried about me by now.” He accepted the glass and sipped at it slowly. “Something from another world just tried to eat my soul.”

“It’s a lot to take in.” Ranger McTalentForUnderstatement admitted, looking anywhere but at him, Hanzo noticed and, not for the first time, regretted that he’d let Hana talk him into that particular haircut, though he couldn’t really blame her for the piercings. “If you want, I’ll drive you home tonight -- I’ve got a call in to a local mechanic with the equipment required to retrieve your car -- “

“Roadie?” Hanzo asked, because asking questions and receiving answers made the whole situation feel at least slightly more real.

“Roadhog. It’s his nickname, real name’s Mako, but he likes to say he’s wanted in too many places to go by it.” Jesse glanced at him, grinned, looked away again. “He and his partner Jamie run a salvage and rebuilding operation off the highway about twelve miles north of here. They do most of the work that keeps my little fleet of gas-drinkers functional. They can certainly get your car back and probably in working order without too much trouble, so long as Jamie knows beforehand not to make too many...alterations.”

“I’m not certain I could afford that.” Hanzo replied carefully. “I was supposed to have it back on Sunday and I can just imagine what kind of fees -- “

“Don’t worry about affordin’ it.” In the sort of tone that didn’t really brook anything in the way of argument. “Are you hungry?”

His stomach was knotted entirely too tight to even consider the concept of food. “Not really, no. I just...would like to go home.”

“Of course.” Jesse rose and offered his hand; Hanzo accepted it, because his prevailing state of awkward and uncoordinated made getting out from under the covers and to the side of the bed more of an adventure than it should have been.

Getting to his feet was likewise a thing of extraordinary gracelessness and, for a horrifying moment, he felt like a newborn giraffe with legs too long and too ungainly to be real that also happened to be coming into the world on the deck of a ship about to sink into heaving, churning seas. He clung again, as the floor tried to tip sideways and knock him over, and his host submitted to the indignity with kindness and patience.

“I think maybe you ought to keep the sweats for now, just to make this as painless as possible.” Jesse suggested, a hint of humor with no trace of mockery in his eyes. “Let’s get you to the living room and I’ll bring the Jeep up.”

Walking got progressively easier the more he did it and so, while his host was out bringing around the vehicle, Hanzo tottered around the room gathering his things together: the plastic bag went in the bookbag, the folded stack of clothes went on top of that, Jesse’s gloves came out of his jacket pocket, and his jacket went on his body. The Jeep, as it turned out, was an actual, modern hover-vehicle painted NPS white with the green stripe and shields. On the way out of town, north on the unnamed, unmarked road that was once Highway 14, he pointed out the sights -- the town itself was once a more frequently sought-out tourist attraction, was still a national historic site, and had the cluster of carefully preserved mercantile buildings, saloons, even an old church, to prove it, along with younger, but equally abandoned, structures clustered around the edge of town, only a handful of which were still occupied. That handful consisted entirely of the Garden of the Desert, a compound of four greenhouses and a sprawling two-story Pueblo Revival hacienda, fully enclosed behind an adobe-and-fieldstone wall, the name of the place spelled out in jewel-bright mosaic on the arch over the main entry gate.

“Jack and Gabe and their gradually expanding pack of mostly-tame hellhounds call that place home. It’s pretty nice, actually. Gabe’s antisocial tendencies don’t influence his interior decorating decisions.” A pause. “Well, okay, they don’t influence them much. And he’s a damn fine cook, all other considerations aside. They both tend the greenhouses, though Jack and Ana -- that’s the neighbor up the valley, lives in the hills with her husband, Reinhardt -- do most of the alchemy, for want of a better term.”

Hanzo thought of unnaturally willful smoke and curls of shadow and far too many sharp, white teeth and the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Gabe isn’t...completely human, is he?”

Jesse glanced sidelong at him and was silent for a long moment. “I wondered if you saw that while you were…” Another, longer silence. “That’s...kinda not my story to tell. I can say, with total confidence and all joking aside, that I would trust him with my life, and a lot of other people’s lives beside. But, no, he ain’t. Neither is Jack, he just wears it better. If you’re ever in a position where you need help -- like the kind of help you got from me, but I’m not available, there’s nobody better to call upon, and that’s a promise.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Hanzo found a smile actually crawling onto his face and he let it stay. “So the...blend...you got from them -- it’s some kind of medicine?”

“Yes. The kind of injury you’ve suffered is tricky to heal -- your body and your soul have to grow back together and, right now, you’re vulnerable to...relapse is such a stupid word here but...that’s kinda what it is. Your spirit’s still only lightly tethered to your body. Your body’s vulnerable without your spirit in it. All of you is more susceptible to weirdness in your sleep, as we just saw.” They reached the junction with the actual charted highway, traffic coming and going in each direction. “You should take that once a night, just before bed, for seven days. It’ll help strengthen the bonds, heal the spiritual wounds, make you...not forget, exactly, but make the memory less of a scar.”

“That’s good, because I would prefer not to forget.” Hanzo, greatly daring, rested a hand on Jesse’s shoulder, lightly, and snatched it back. “You saved my life, and for that I’m grateful.”

“I -- “

“Quiet.” Hanzo smiled ruthlessly. “You saved my life, and I do not want to forget that, or you.”

“It’s probably for the best if you did.” They were, Hanzo realized, approaching roads, and landmarks, that were thoroughly familiar now. “I can’t order you to stay away from the desert down south but, for your own safety, you should absolutely do so. Something out there decided you were interesting enough to mess with personally -- something out there might’a gotten a taste of you and might’a liked it and that? That’s dangerous, more dangerous than I can probably make you appreciate just now.” Softly. “I don’t want anything worse to happen to you, Hanzo. Please don’t invite it in the front door.”

“I will try not to do so.” His temporary home loomed out of the twilight -- for an instant, it was on the tip of his tongue to ask how Jesse knew the address, realized he’d probably gotten it from his driver’s license, and struggled to find something else to say as they pulled up to the curb. “Where -- where would you suggest I go, then?”

“Black Mesa’s one of the most beautiful places there is -- and the mountains north of Los Alamos, particularly at this time of year.” Jesse reached over and unlocked the doors, activated the hazard lights and, before Hanzo could fully process what he was doing, got out and opened his door for him. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I promise.” Hanzo hefted his bag over his shoulder and stood clear of the door. “And I will take your advice to heart, as well.”

“If you’re still not feeling a hundred percent after the week is out, call me.” Jesse pressed something into his hand as they walked to the door of the condo together. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, that’s my promise.”

“Thank you again.” Hanzo paused with his hand on the exterior identification lock. “Would you...like to come in? For coffee?”

“I’d best be gettin’ back, but thank you kindly for the offer.” He tipped his hat, and Hanzo’s knees tried their hardest to transform into bendy gelatin again, successfully enough that it was all he could do to stand and watch as he walked back to the Jeep and pulled away.

He was, in fact, still standing there holding onto the lockbox when the front door flew open behind him, a shadow fell over him, and his brother demanded, in a voice that promised something immediate and horrific for someone if he didn’t like what he heard, “Where. The actual fuck. Have you been?”