#but not the usual angry/emotional kind of violent. this is cornered animal fighting for its life violent.

[byanyan]

something something byan fracturing a rib in a parkour accident and stubbornly refusing to go to the hospital about it for like an entire week even though they are in agony

[thalys-artcorner]

A Cause to be Bothered By.

A oneshot in which Homelander actually gived a damn with the charity event assigned.  Canon divergent that allowed to write...wait for...actual fluff. Bet you didn’t see that coming.

*Note: I don’t wanna say @kayemagistro​ made me do it, but she did provide the initiative xD Based on this post.

She wasn’t sure how much of a good idea it might be to bring Homelander along, but the powers from above had insisted, and there was only so many strings she could pull before they put her back in her place. It was a miracle already that she had managed to pick her own charity work.

But having Homelander with her? For starters, he loathed charity work. It was a waste of his precious time, devoting attention to causes he did not care for nor did he even bother to look up. He hated the idea of taking care of others, he hated the cameras following, the million questions hurting his senses, and above all, he hated weakness. And wasn’t charity all about weakness? Of helping those not strong enough to make it out on their own?

If that wasn’t enough reason, he was in one of his moods that day. One fo those unstable, volatile, violent moods in which he might even turn around and bite his own leash off just to take it out on those around him, hate them and hurt them so he wouldn’t have to face the consequences of his own emotions. He’d even lashed out at her, not caring in the slightest for the fact that she loved him, forgetting that he loved back. Then again, she had been genetically manipulated so that his powers had no effect on her, just as her own had no effect on him. Not that any of that had ever stopped them from trying in the past.

But the media loved them together, probably because they got to see so little of their relationship. That was another of her personal little triumphs. She’d managed to keep Vought’s media team out of her own relationship after showing them that the public responded better to couples who weren’t flaunting their feelings about every single day. It made them more believable. What little the public got to see of Homelander as a boyfriend humanized him in their eyes (which she knew he hated, and it had taken a whole lot of convincing, fighting and angry sex to finally get it through his thick skull that they had to feed something to the masses). Hence, him coming along to the animal shelter with her, with that cold, shiny fake smile he’d been trained to put on his face like makeup whenever the cameras flashed in their direction.

At least, so far, he looked only irritated, which was a welcome cry far from the usual expression that looked like he was wondering whether if snapping some snotty brat’s arm “by accident” might wriggle him out of the event. Probably because he was not being pestered. She hadn’t chosen an animal shelter charity thinking that he would come along, but because she loved animals. Yet it was turning out to be a smart move. “At least you won’t have anyone asking you for autographs and pictures” she’d pointed out just before coming. She’d received a bad-tempered grunt in response, which was better than some snappy remark.

After the usual tedious talk with the owners of the shelter and the promise of a considerable donation and all those annoying displays that involved actual human contact and during which she was really fearing he might break the glass of water he was holding and throw a tantrum, there came the actual interaction with the actual animals. They were brought to a wide backyard in the center of the kennels, in which they were greeted by a hoard of enthusiastic puppies of all sizes and colors, that demanded pats and kisses and belly rubs. She immediately dropped to her knees and opened her arms wide, letting them jump all over her and whimper and place lots of sloppy, wet kisses on her face. She could almost here Homelander saying “I’m not coming anywhere near you covered in dog slobber”.

She looked around for him and noticed him closer to the kennels, his back leaning against one of the cages and his bad mood strong enough for the puppies to sense it and steer clear away from him, even if the humans did not. Suddenly, his nostrils flared, and he turned around, peering inside the kennel he had been leaning against moments before. She caught sight of a figure lurking on a far corner in the back, it’s beady eyes sad and resentful. She could the white of its teeth as its upper lip curled slightly in a snarl.

“Why is this one locked up?”

Homelander surprised everyone when he spoke up after being unusually quiet during the entire event. One of the caretakers of the shelter stepped forward at a prudent distance and cleared her throat “Oh, that’s one of the newbies, sir. He arrived some time ago, after they found him in a compound that raised puppies to become dog fighters in the pit. He’s been abused pretty roughly for one so young, and he’s very aggressive. We have to keep him locked for the moment, for his own safety and those of the other puppies. Sir”.

“It’s not his fault though, is it?”

“What was that, sir?”

Homelander made a gesture with his hand, brushing off the comment “Nothing”.

She hadn’t missed the whole exchange, but as it seemed he wasn’t going to add anything or elaborate, she returned her attention back to the puppies, smiling and asking questions about them, their stories, their health to the various caretakers, while the cameras buzzed around capturing the best moments of her interaction with them so that later, thousand upon thousands of celebrity sites and talk shows would replay them over and over again, sighing over the shadow heroine who took time off fighting crime to think about the well-being of the innocent creatures nobody else bothered to think about.

She was in the middle of answering a question about the animals she had had back in the farm, when there was a sudden exclamation of alarm from one of the caretakers.

“Sir, please, you can’t open that cage!”

Homelander, without anyone really noticing, had opened the door to the aggressive puppy’s cage, and was kneeling by threshold, looking inside at the snarling animal. She could see his lips moving, all though he was murmuring too softly for anyone else to hear. One of the caretakers stepped forward, and the hero immediately raised a hand in the air to stop her.

“Stay back” he ordered through gritted teeth, his jaw set, a small muscle twitching.

“But-”

“I told you to stay back”. His voice was hard and authoritarian. And it had that dangerous edge it had been carrying all day. Yet after a moment, his jaw relaxed ever so slightly, and he started murmuring to the dog inside the kennel again.

It was time to intervene.

She rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest “Everybody leave us for a moment, please. Take these little fellows too, if you would be so kind”.

For a second, nobody moved. She glared at the owner director of the shelter pointedly, a stare that allowed no argument and that she usually reserved for criminals. It worked, and everyone, including the camera crew, were soon hurrying out, picking up the puppies with them, until the backyard was completely clear, except for her, Homelander, and the puppy inside the kennel. Slowly, she approached them, until she was able to crouch beside him and gently rest a hand on his shoulder.

“John?” she called out now that they were alone.

He didn’t reply, still focused on the dog in front of them. It had stopped snarling, and was now standing a few steps away from them, its belly pressed to the ground as he slowly, warily, crawled towards Homelander’s extended gloved hand. Its black lips twitched from time to time, and its hair was standing on end, but he nonetheless drew closer, until his nose was only a few centimeters away from Homelander’s hand.

“Make way for him” the man whispered, as he too took a step to the side, clearing the doorway for the dog. It hesitated. And then, finally, stepped out onto the grass with unsure footsteps.

For a long moment, the puppy simply stood there, as if it could not quite believe it was outside, free, and nobody was stopping him or forcing him back to his cage. It looked like a mixed breed, something halfway between a Pitbull and a Rottweiler. How stereotypical. It blinked under the sunlight, and then, finally, sat on its hunches first, and then extended out his front legs, and laid down in the sun.

Then Homelander reached out to him. The animal immediately snapped and revealed its fangs once more, growling. Homelander pulled his hands back, an obviously outraged frown on his face. And for a moment, she feared he might cut it in half. But his expression eventually softened. He peeled off his glove, and reached out again, this time ever so slowly, making sure the puppy was catching every one of his movements and not taken by surprise. The puppy didn’t growl but stared at him warningly. Finally, it allowed the superhero to rest his hand on its back and pet him. The hair along his back stopped raising, and suddenly, its eyes weren’t glazed with anger anymore.

She released the breath that until then, she hadn’t realized she had been holding, still not quite sure what it was that she was seeing. He’d actually taken the time to coax the puppy out of its cage, and instead of lashing out when it had rejected his initial approach, changed his strategy to suit the animal’s needs. She had never seen him go to such effort for someone else, not in a long, long time; except perhaps for her.

Slowly, mimicking his actions, she reached out to the puppy, whispering soothing words to it. It allowed her to pet him too, and while Homelander scratched it behind the ears, she ran her hand along its back.

And then, as if the entire situation wasn’t already unexpected enough, the little fellow flopped onto his back and exposed is dark brown belly to them, demanding belly rubs. Belly rubs!

“John” she called at him again “What the hell are you doing exactly?”

“Aggressive my ass” he finally said, his eyes never leaving the puppy as it started to twitch one of its hind legs “He’s just tired of being locked up in a fucking cage, with people ordering him about and calling him out”.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Her eyes opened in realization, and she breathed out softly “Does he sound familiar to you?”

Homelander finally lifted his face to look at her. His blue eyes were soft, showing genuine emotion for the first time that day. It seemed like his anger had finally subdued. In his gaze, she actually saw the implicit apology for his behavior towards her earlier that day. Homelander never apologized, but she knew how to look for that feeling in his eyes. They could be almost naively transparent when he wasn’t thinking.

“Someone should have bothered to ask him what he wanted. Maybe if they stopped treating him like a potential killing machine, he wouldn’t be all growls and snaps” he shrugged.

The puppy emitted a playful yelp. It sat back up, and stepped closer to Homelander, until it rested its snout on top of his knees and looked up to him. Grateful. Trusting. Every so slightly, its short tail wiggled.

And then, without any explanation, Homelander scooped him up and rose to his feet. She rose with him, still not quite believing her eyes. “I know that look. What exactly are you planning?” she knew that determined set on his jaw when he set his mind on something.

“I think he’s seen enough of kennels to last a lifetime. I’m taking him with us. If these people won’t bother to actually treat him according to his needs, then…” suddenly he stopped, as if he had just realized what he had been about to say. His expression was almost comical as he cleared his throat “Well…he shouldn’t be here anyways”.

She cracked a grin, and took a step closed to rub the puppy’s head. It had started to doze off in Homelander’s arms. The hero, after a moment, reached out and wrapped his free arm around her waist.

“You do realize they’re going to lose their shit back at the tower with a dog running about, right?”

Homelander looked at her, his face serious. He didn’t care. He’d do as he damn well pleased. She knew that look. It said mine. Suddenly, he grinned at her, before looking down at the dozing pup in his arms. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t. How about you, buddy?”

[urlneverheardofit]

Over thinking Pathfinder: Kingmaker. Thoughts about Regongar.

1) Hes got crazy hormone issues, similar to our miserable teenage years except its his entire life. Examples: Testosterone overload, he's way aggressive, way hypersexual, etc. Secondly, oxytocin. Oxytocin is the "cuddle hormone" its a large part of the reason why women are more prone to falling in love after sex than men are, men get a huge dopamine rush (which is why they love it so much) whereas women get Oxytocin instead. Tristian comments Reg frequently assumes lust and love are one in the same. This is finely pointed out after the baron/ess seduces Reg, he essientally says "I love you" in more words. However it is possible that for love and lust to be the same concept in his mind if, along with a dopamine high, he got a Oxytocin rush as well. Whether the hormone issues is due to him being a half-orc, a dragon descendent, a result of his time in slavery, a weird side effect to his magic, or a totally regular hormone imbalance caused by (human) genes or otherwise, can't exactly be traced.

2) He's not exactly what most people think of as "Chaotic Evil" he isn't a savage uncaring, unfeeling creature like his orcish relatives, and he is perfectly capable of feeling human emotions, compassion, kindness and the like. However he might have a slight bit of moral window skewing, brain damage and/or some neurological disorder that causes him to not always realize that lighting peoples dogs on fire because it was annoying your gf is frowned upon and uncalled for.

3) The violence he is known for appears to be a attempt to regain some control in his life. This type of behavior (though not usually this extreme,) is common in people who have battled disease, severe financial issues, abuse etc. It's generally a longer form of "the cornered animal" type behavior, most people will fight-or-flight for what they need in desperate situations and then be done. But in long term exposure to having things done to you against your will, being uninformed about huge life desicions for long periods and the like can cause people to lash out for longer to gain the control of themselves back, if people are afraid of you, you can control them. Hence a quick easy way to make your life yours again. At the cost of others.

4) Any of his violence not covered by the control battle, can be attributed to his orc parent, or, more likely, something else behavioral entirely. Most people have situations where the can and will be pushed to that last straw and do things, acts of violence, physically impossible feats etc. If you've ever seen those articles about women lifting cars to save their babies, you know what I'm talking about. So for Reg a huge trigger is slavers, but this extends to traitors, defenseless enemies who he sees as irredemable and even his own companions for time to time. He is rather trigger happy if hes allowed to go from seeing-red to wanting to kill someone for because they cutting him off in traffic (someone needs an anger management class). Further consideration might put him on the autism scale even.

5) He's most likely battled depression for a loooong time. His stupid puns and generally spirited responses (spirited as in violent) hides his tracks well. In a romance dialogue scene the description says "a fresh set of cuts across his wrists are just beginning to heal" or near there. They 'new' implies he's got them and hes had enough of then that are obvious enough for the baron/ess to be able to tell a fresh set (then again, blood is fairly obvious)

6) He has about a -999999 self esteem. This is most likely rooted in multiple places, his upbringing in slavery, his feeling that he can't please anyone because he does it wrong, not even octavia, the fact he was sold into slavery by sheer chance. Plus the stigma against half-orcs anyways. Not a great combination for being confident in oneself. This anxiety of being useless and a waste of space overlaps to his sense of worth as a companion, a lover and a friend, he explains during yet another romance dialouge that he stayed up all night and convinced himself 3 seperate times that the baron/ess was going to dump him and leave him alone.

7) where'd he get time to master his pun-work?

8) Are half-orcs like mules in that they can't reproduce? Or if they can normally did the Technic league fix him so he didn't make 12 billion more angry 1/4 orcs? Maybe Octavia's using a cantrip that serves as a type of birth control. Who knows?

9) Most adults can't flirt to the level he can, where did he learn how to do that?

10) A lot of times, adults, regardless of gender (though it does skew more towards Male guilt more than female) don't handle rejection well. Even if they didn't seriously like the person that much, it can still be a instinctual response to either try again, or to try and bedazzle the badassery at a potential mate, or in extreme cases, try and force themselves on the other person. But Reg isn't guilty of this. If you tell him to back off, he does without question and doesn't bring that particular subject up again, when your other conpanions shut him down, he isn't offended or hurt, which is not only rather mature. But also an indicator he isn't actually chaotic evil in the way most people think about it. This (as was pointed out to me) also goes to not romantic situations, such as in battle or with his jokes.

Feel free to shoot other ideas/thoughts, factual corrections or if you want further explanation or something at me i will talk for hours.

Edit: my god there was so many spelling errors. Fixed that i think. Plus edited some statements that were pointed out to me (thanks!) And learned about him as I progressed in the game with him. Yay!

[very-merry-sioux]

Never thought of Noah. Why did the Green remind me of something else? I thought the Orichalcos was the virus...

I’ve actually thought a lot about DOMA and Noah’s Arc in my AU. I know DSOD takes place in the manga (meaning the anime filler arcs didn’t happen), and I thought it could be fun to add that when I’m done with [Artificial Doll]. Like a sequel of sorts.

Here’s one of the things I’ve thought of!

Kaiba enters the palace with a loud bang.

That is not a strange thing to see, his rival is not known for silent and simple entrances. Or silent and simple anything. Considering he found a way to the afterlife without achieving the first requirement (being dead), almost everyone expects the man to do something outrageous.

But he usually arrives with his typical arrogant self, strutting inside with no care. Be it because he wanted to duel, or needed a break from his work, or needed inspiration, or was merely fascinated about this dimension. He always came here with confidence.

These were not the reasons why he came here, it was obvious for anyone who knew him.

When Atem sees him, he knows instantly something is wrong.

There is fear in those blue eyes, the desperate kind he thought he’d never see again after Duelist Kingdom. He does not approach Atem like he often does, the king does not even think he notices him, he instead dumps all the items he had brought with him and quickly assembles them around a laptop. 

He begins to type rapidly, muttering to himself. He doesn’t spare anyone a second glance.

Something is very wrong.

Atem orders the guards and servants present to leave, and asks one of them to look for Mahad. As he is one of the few people here who keeps tabs on the modern world, being connected to Dark Magician.

“Kaiba?”

“This place has always given him some power,” Kaiba mumbles, not looking up from the screen. Atem has never seen anyone type so fast. Though to be fair, he has only seen Yuugi and the others use computers. “Faster in processing, in retrieving files, in learning, in fighting,” he says. “Being here should increase his—shit!”

He punches the floor hard.

Atem is taken aback at the violent reaction. “Kaiba, who are you-?”

“I know I built you stronger than this!” Kaiba snarls, typing with the desperation of a dying man. “You were based off of someone who’d never lose to this! Don’t you dare lose to a bunch of lowlife duelists we’ve never heard of!”

Based off…? Atem’s eyes widen. “Is that-”

A violet holo-screen materializes, its shade a lot paler than Atem remembers. Its corners have specks of green flickering.

Output: Kaiba, let go.

Kaiba’s creation, one that he breathed life into without realizing. One that everyone assumed to be the Galatea to his Pygmalion. Even him. It did not help in endearing themselves to the A.I, especially when their assumptions were very, very wrong.

Kaiba had been furious as well, not happy with the implication that he had created the A.I out of some obsessed lust over him.

“Why aren’t your defense protocols working?” Kaiba asks himself, ignoring the flickering screens popping up and asking him to stop. “Why isn’t-they should be working!”

They had fought. It was nothing like in Battle City, where it was more similar to heated debates than furious lashing. 

Output: Kaiba.

The screens glitch, fizzing in and out of existence. Green was slowly bleeding into them.

Output: Kaiba, let go. You know more than anyone the consequences of cheating, and this is definitely cheating.

They had ranted, anger and frustration pouring out of both of them. Atem angry at Kaiba creating risks just to meet him, and Kaiba hurt at Atem’s thoughtlessness of leaving him with no time to even process it, and angry at his dismissal of all his efforts on coming here.

Then the A.I had asked them to stop, giving an explanation on how their prototype couldn’t handle that much emotional instability, and Atem had snapped at him too. Had used words meant to hurt and sting as much as possible, words that would have disappointed Yuugi.

When Kaiba saw the A.I flinch, he quieted down, looked at him coldly, and left the palace. He stopped visiting for three months.

The A.I stopped appearing altogether, though Atem had seen glimpses of him around Kisara. It seems the woman is the only one the A.I trusts fully.

It took a year before the A.I would appear in front of everyone else again, and even now, their conversations are formal and stinted.

Output: YoU KNow whY,.

“Like hell I do! A weak virus like-”

Output: thISs I’smt A virus, aND yoU knOe itt.

The violet screens flicker and altogether disappear, a few seconds later, a holographic figure materializes.

Atem does not find it odd anymore to see a paler self of him. The A.I, Y.A.A.M.I as Kaiba has officially called him, acts a lot more like Kaiba than he knows. His gestures, his expressions, his sharp tongue and wit. It makes it easier to see that he’s not a complete digital copy of him.

Not a digital copy, no. More like a digital child, a Pinocchio to his Gepetto. One Kaiba made out of grief and… something else, something both him and Atem still couldn’t admit.

Not lust, never lust. There was nothing sexual between them, and Atem has a feeling Kaiba would vomit at the thought of doing that to the A.I.

“I’m so sorry,” the avatar whispers, voice filled with static. “I should have known better, the card was never in the database. And with recent news of people going under comas and having that card present on their bodies,” his form flickers violently. “I should have known better.”

There is a green emblem on Y.A.A.M.I’s forehead, and a sickly aura of magic surrounding him. Greedy and eager to consume him.

Atem realizes what’s wrong. It’s different from the ones he’s played, the ones he’s started, but he knows a shadow game when he sees one. He doesn’t know how, but Kaiba’s A.I had gotten into one. 

And lost.

This wasn’t a virus. “It’s a penalty game,” he whispers, horrified. Y.A.A.M.I looks at him briefly and nods, then looks away.

What happened? What’s been happening these past weeks?

“It’s not a penalty game!” Kaiba snaps. “That would imply that he has a soul,” he punctuates each word with a hard tap on the keys. “And he doesn’t!”

“Kaiba!” Atem exclaims, shocked. He’s about to say that this isn’t the time for his skepticism until he hears Y.A.A.M.I laugh.

“I’m so sorry, I just… I just wanted to win so badly,” another laugh, one filled with static and bitterness. He looks at Atem. “It will take time before Kaiba can come back here, without me around,” he says. “Whatever happens, do not come back to the living world. Not like you did with Yuugi, there are people who want you,” he gestures at Kaiba. “And unlike Kaiba, I suspect they’re not good people.”

A magic circle forms around the laptop, Kaiba pays no attention to it.

What?

“Don’t come back, don’t even try. It’s too risky,” the A.I says before his avatar shatters.

The circles shrinks around the laptop.

Kaiba types faster. A screen pops up.

Output: I’m so sorry.

It shrinks some more.

Output: Thank you for crea

The screen blips out.

Kaiba freezes.

The circle is gone.

[adventk-blog]

                                             — ARE YOU WHO YOU WANT TO BE,

       introducing SEO KANGJOON, a MUTANT, — and currently a believer of NEUTRALITY. age ( twenty-five ) and gifted with the ability of FERAL MIND, they are currently working as a LAW STUDENT INTERN.

WE ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN STORIES,

part one.

“you look like your father,” they say and kangjoon cringes. he grows up to these words every day, every night. his mother tells hm this all the time and whenever she says it there’s a few emotions kangjoon is able to notice: pain. regret. anguish. he understands though, kind of. he doesn’t think it’s fair but he understands.

because here is a picture of his father: bloody fists closed in tight, face red, his mother’s screams. until they ran away to a place he’d never find them.

when they ran away kangjoon was only eight but he still remembers most of what he saw. he remembers his mother hiding him under cupboards, remembers that she used to call whenever he was angry “one of his moods”. “let’s go home later today,” she’d say and they’d linger on the playground until late, until they’d arrive and his father would be passed out on the floor, their house completely destroyed. broken. just like so many other houses.

but kangjoon cares very little about other homes.

one day, in their new home with his grandmother, he hears his mother crying as she talks about being scared kangjoon “has it too”. kangjoon doesn’t know what it is, but by the way she’s crying he knows it’s serious. he doesn’t want to have it. he doesn’t want to be his father.

part two.

he has it.

he finds out when he’s fourteen. they’re at lunch time and he’s outside, minding his own business when one of his friends mention his mother. they talk about how she’s not married, talk about how pretty she is. they talk about how easy it’d be to see her naked, how she is probably one of those women.

in a second, all kangjoon sees is red. bright red, all over him. he doesn’t see a thing, it’s like something takes over him, destroys him while all he is and does is rage, anger, fury.

when he comes to his senses his friends are gone, screaming. he’s kneeling on the ground, his other friend right between his knees, his face disfigured, blood coming out of his nose, broken teeth. blood on kangjoon’s hands.

red. all he sees is red.

part three.

they move, of course. there’s nothing else they could do, nowhere else they could be. his mother is tired and he sees it on the lines of her face quite easily. kangjoon turns into a boy who can read people easily, keen eyes attentive, ready.

he also becomes a boy of self control.

his power becomes reckless, almost impossible to control at first. his mother is always there, helping, teaching. they do it like this: whenever he starts getting out of control at home she locks him up in the basement until he calms down. it’s a process that takes time, years - when kangjoon is twenty is the first time he succeeds in controlling himself, in being able to hide inside just as he feels the rage taking over him. he does it efficiently: a small blade on his pockets that he carries around, craves to his skin until the pain makes the rage flow away, red and sticky.

it works, most of the time. most of it. his time in the army helps.

and just like that, he hides. tries to. kangjoon gets in inha university, a law student. he gets by, fades amidst the crowd, to everyone nothing by a shining, bright boy, smart and clever, almost top of his class. no one sees what’s inside and as time goes by kangjoon gets even better in hiding it, faking it until he makes it, the small blade always in the pocket of his suits.

what a lie he lives in. what a stupid, fucking lie.

part four.

until there’s a day that it becomes harder. kangjoon is 22 and in a bar, alone, far away from college, from his neighborhood. he knows better than to drink around people he knows, to lose control of himself for even a second. so this is what he does when the anger gets too much: he goes to bars outside town, drives for hours. he finds some drunk asshole by the end of the night, follows him up to some alleyway and picks up a fight. and then one day he finds out about an underground fighting ring, a place to where he can go and let go of the façade he built so carefully. a place he can be free a little, feel the taste of blood fill his mouth. kangjoon wins almost every fight, loses one or two just to not be too obvious, his power giving an edge, but never letting loose completely, no. that he only allows in hidden alleyways, with drunk people who will never amount to anything, who will never be missed.

when he shows up monday with a bruise on the corner of his mouth he plays around, jokes that he’s just clumsy. “i fell down the stars,” he says and people laugh.

god, kangjoon. you should take better care of yourself.

he smiles.

THERE IS FLESH AND BLOOD BEHIND THESE TALES,

kangjoon’s personality is one that is hard to grasp. to the outside he may seem like a calm, collected man. he’s serious and mostly keeps to himself, but knows how to be friendly and socialize. his job demands it of him: kangjoon is most of all ambitious. he knows what he needs to do and how he needs to be to get what he wants. and he follows it, does it. once he has a goal he sets his mind to it he doesn’t give up. he’ll do whatever it takes and won’t allow anyone to get on his way. people who actually know him, though, will get a clue of kangjoon’s true self. he’s a bitter, selfish man, who only thinks of himself and his own gain. he’s prone to violence, has a dry sense of humor that relies on dark sarcasm a bit too much. he’s vain, prejudiced, judges a book by its cover. kangjoon is not a good guy, not at all, but what’s worse about him is that he wholeheartedly believes he is.

AND EVEN MONSTERS CAN LEARN TO WEEP.

kangjoon’s ability is called feral mind. when anger grows inside of him to the point of no control he gets into a primal state, almost animalistic, his rage allowing him to fight and think based on instinct,  in a hugely increased capacity. his ability entails that he can inflict damage in a way and to an extent that he wouldn’t be able to in his normal state, getting extremely violent and vicious. hard to control.

                  APPLICATIONS :

anger enpowerment. anger is an well-known friend of kangjoon, one he’s been nurturing since young, since his life went out of the rails, crashing and burning in its collision course. when he gets angry he’s able to unlock other powers such as getting stronger, being able to lift heavier objects, fight harder, all rage and destruction, giving him a huge edge in fights. - enhanced instincts. it consists of kangjoon having stronger instincts than what would be considered normal. mainly his predatory and fight instincts talk louder inside of him, shout until logic is forgotten and he can think quickly and efficiently while working on those instincts alone. - hunting intuition. hunting is not easy. it requires attention, focus, skills, practice. but it can be easier when these skills come to you as easily as breathing. hunting intuition gives kangjoon all those talents, enhancing his instincts so he can hunt, be it animals, people, or even objects. also, in the sorry case his target is a person, kangjoon can get a sense of their weakness, their vulnerabilities, making it simpler to catch them. or kill them, his choice. this application makes him the perfect tracker.

               LIMITATIONS : - kangjoon has a hard time healing wounds that were inflicted to him when he was using his ability. - depending of how much energy he uses while using his power he may even have to stay in bed for days. - kangjoon is unable to tap into feral mind twice in the same day. it’s not an ability that he can get into whenever he wishes, since it uses so much of his energy. - he can’t keep his ability up for too long, at least for now. after a while he starts to lose his strength, making him even more fragile and weak than he’d be in his usual state. - when enhacing his insticts while being way too lost in his anger kangjoon may become reckless and destructive, be it towards himself or others. - if he gets too deep in his feral state he might even lose his sense of self and not recognize people that are dear to him. - there’s the danger that if he gets too deep in a feral state he might lose his humanity for good. - the longer he’s into feral mind the harder it is for him to come back to a normal state.

THREAT LEVEL TWO.                           07+ BRWN, 04+ RSLNC, 04+ INTLCT, 03+ WLLPWR, 04+ FGHTNG, 02+ SPD