#cave on a quest for power and answers and yeah he possessed me for about a week and made my body attack my fellow ninja which totally wasn't

[lovinggreeniehours]

euphrasia with the other ninja could literally have been so funny WHERE IS SHE. is she still in jerusalem :/

[thebrokenblackman]

KRS-One - “Ah Yeah!”  Critical Analysis by Hakeem Ture

“If hip hop has the power to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.” - KRS-One 

The musician is a natural master of vibration and emotion. Many musicians have been able to make us dance. Many have been able to draw on relatability because nobody is the only person like them in the world. Perhaps some have even made us cry or provided soundtracks for intimate moments. Only few musicians have taken on the task of socially and historically educating their listeners through their music. 

Even fewer have been able to combine the mastery of teaching with mastery of rhythm. Those who do this become legends like; Nate King Cole, B.B. King, Nina Simone, Bob Marley, Chaka Khan and Fela Kuti’ and their influence lives throughout generations. In 1995 Krs-One released a self-titled album that came in the sunset of his reign. His career would mirror the sepia filter of the album cover. 

This album had dominant auras of militancy and rebellion that Krs-One fans had not heard since Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded. Krs-One was able to both appease his day one fans and gain the younger generation of Hip Hoppers who were listening to artists such as: Nas, Redman,Das Efx, Tupac, and A Tribe Called Quest. The message and timing of this album may have been divine. Let us look at the historical events of the year(s) Krs-One was creating this album in. In 1994, the United States congress had successfully completed the first step of becoming fascist by Voting to Censure Dr. Khalid Muhammad, National Advisor of the Nation of Islam. Bill Clinton and Joe Biden led Democrats to pass the The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and effectively fueled the prison industrial complex. South Africa held it first election since intergrating with the apartheid government and Invisble Man author Ralph Ellison had passed. Hip Hop was the soul vehicle of expression to protest the genocide that had been going on and KRS One was one of its leaders. The youth looked toward this leader to deliver an album reflective of their mindstate and he delivered. 

Imperative of a classic work of musical art, this album is composed of multiple great songs, but in my opinion the cornerstone song of the album is undeniably “Ah Yeah”. In this song he masterfully uses three 16 bar verses to empower and mobilize his listener much in the same way Dr. Khalid Muhammad did. This track starts with the establishment of an a capella warcry. He writes in response to western power’s having done such an incredible job destroying the rebel instinct that Afrikan people possess by publicly shaming our leaders and traditions. These lyrics are him trying to raise the psyche of a fallen warrior class and put revolt back in its holy place as opposed to the negative connotation that has been applied by the white power structure.  He essentially made a chant-like hook with an underlying message of “This is your enemy, This is how to handle him, and THIS is okay”. The aim focuses on  redirecting the accumulated anger of a traduced peoples that is often mistargeted toward self so that we may be collectively progresssive. 

He bellows:

“Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down

Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown

Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around

Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah!”

Then comes the establishment of an eerie bass line. This song structure is familiar to fans of his earlier work. It was what they were longing for. For a few albums he took the perspective of being in the classroom or office as opposed to in the battlefield with his men. He had returned to fight with us like Haile Selassie. Immediately he establishes a dual level of respect. One with his men and one with his deterrent.  

“So here I go kickin' science in ninety-five

I be illin', parental discretion is advised still

Don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his

Call me God, cause that's what the black man is

Roamin' through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist

Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess

Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One

Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent God”

In the first 2 bars of the preceding excerption he lets us know he intends to drop some knowledge, but it will not be filtered for political correctness or comfortability. The following 2 bars he establishes both a tone of encounterment and identity. Then he goes on to explain from which direction he came much like Saint Maurice's appearance upon the plagued people of Europe to let them know he has navigated and he is no spook. He goes on to talk to his listener and the most important of them, the women.

In 1994, fresh off a press tour on which she gained popularity from criticizing Bill Clinton, Sister Souljah published her first book that was heralded by black scholars and youth alike entitled No Disrespect. Her Influence was cemented in the minds of black youth and played a huge role in raising generational consciousness by dealing with topics like “how the black woman is viewed by black men” and “the black woman’s role in repairing the black family structure”. She had solely been awarded leadership duties by a disregarded demographic in a scapegoated culture and was handling it with the grace of Misty Copeland.  Her and the women she raised to consciousness needed the camaraderie of Krs One. He goes on to sell to himself:

 “Wack MC's have one style: gun buck

But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution"

They shut the fuck up, can't get with it

Down to start a riot in a minute

You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick

While other MC's are talkin' bout up with hope down with dope

I'll have a devil in my infrared scope,”

In the first five bars he addresses the enemies of the oppressed people within the oppressed people. These “Wack MC’s” are the Uncle Toms’ and Judas of the rebellious, afro-centric movement that is Hip-Hop. He says they lack discipline and do not have the self awareness to rescue themselves. In comparison with himself who uses that energy toward an ultimate goal, Independence through revolution. In the succeeding excerption KRS briefly displays the cognitive processing and coping mechanism of a warrior:

“WOY

That's for calling my father a boy and, klak, klak, klak

That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO

That's for calling my sister a ho, and for you

Buck, buck, buck  cause I don't give a motherfuck

Remember the whip, remember the chant

Remember the rope and

You black people still thinkin' about voting?

Every President we ever had lied!

You know, I'm kinda glad Nixon died.”

Throughout the preceding excerption KRS skillfully uses onomatopoeias to create a setting for his listener. There is a battle going on. Shells casings are falling to the ground and bullets are flying from high caliber weapons. He is in the thick of it and then an enemy approaches him. He musters the courage to engage with his assailant by remembering the suffrage the morals of his enemies’ elected nation-state has caused his ancestors. Then he rejoices in the death of one of their leaders, Richard Nixon.

In the second verse Krs-One addresses an age-old topic of discussion for spiritual people that was brought forth to the Afrikans of today by Noble Drew Ali, “The Prophetic Soul”. This belief dates back to ancient Buddhism in the caves of Asia taught to us by Dr. Ivan Van Sertima in his book “African Presence in Early Asia”. This belief entails that all the prophets of the world including but not limted to; Adam, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and himself were the same soul being reborn until its mission is completed.” Krs-One puts himself and a couple others in this divine line of being. 

“This is not the first time I came to the planet

 concern every time I come, only a few could understand it

I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it

I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my Commandments

I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost

I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross

I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner

Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner

They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me

So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley

They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X

Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS

Kickin' the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin' to like

Get with you, showin' you, you are invincible

The Black Panther is the black answer for real

In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale

On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away

And enters into Kwame Ture”

In the beginning of the third verse he briefly continues the theme of possessing The Prophetic Soul but now, he does not speak from a perspective of being the people who had the soul. He speaks from the perspective of the soul. This soul is traveling and looking for a host. In the first two bars he speaks of how he was able to travel without detection from the government’s surveillance. Then, he goes on to finally choose a host that is relevant to the demographic of people it intends to reach. This host is stylish and his image is relatable, so the people will be receptive of his message through familiarity. 

“In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do

So I grab the air and speak through the code

The devil cannot see through as I unload

Into another cerebellum

Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim

And leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin”

After the prophetic soul latches on to the host, KRS-One, it manifests purpose with grassroot organization and motivational speaking. Being KRS-One founded the Stop the Violence Movement in 1988 and was solely responsible for mobilizing many of the most influential Hip Hoppers against Gang Violence and Culture he had plenty of knowledge to give on the topic.

“We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin'

Have you forgotten why we buildin' in a cypher

Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid

The son of God is brighter than the son of man

The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is

We got no time for fancy mathematics

Your mental frequency frequently pickin' up static

Makin' you a naked body, addict and it's democratic

They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic”

Too often credit for the creation and establishment of a culture or society is given to one person as opposed to being evenly distributed amongst the support structure. How many times have you been taught the legacy of all the men that signed the declaration of independence? It is likely that you’ve only been taught about Thomos Jefferson. Just like there would be no Fidel Castro without the parallel influences of Che Guevara and Camilo Ceinfuegos there would be no Hip-Hop without KRS ONE. Perhaps without his tenacity, passion, and will it would have been infiltrated and exploited before it reached its full maturity. If that would have happened America would not have its current number one export. In his prime most consumers who listened to his message and gazed upon his image said “OH NO!”  from fear of what they could not understand. Today, we look at his legacy of art and effort and cant help ,but smile and yell “AH YEAH!”.

“If hip hop has the power to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.” - KRS-One 

The musician is a natural master of vibration and emotion. Many musicians have been able to make us dance. Many have been able to draw on relatability because nobody is the only person like them in the world. Perhaps some have even made us cry or provided soundtracks for intimate moments. Only few musicians have taken on the task of socially and historically educating their listeners through their music. 

Even fewer have been able to combine the mastery of teaching with mastery of rhythm. Those who do this become legends like; Nate King Cole, B.B. King, Nina Simone, Bob Marley, Chaka Khan and Fela Kuti’ and their influence lives throughout generations. In 1995 Krs-One released a self-titled album that came in the sunset of his reign. His career would mirror the sepia filter of the album cover. 

This album had dominant auras of militancy and rebellion that Krs-One fans had not heard since Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded. Krs-One was able to both appease his day one fans and gain the younger generation of Hip Hoppers who were listening to artists such as: Nas, Redman,Das Efx, Tupac, and A Tribe Called Quest. The message and timing of this album may have been divine. Let us look at the historical events of the year(s) Krs-One was creating this album in. In 1994, the United States congress had successfully completed the first step of becoming fascist by Voting to Censure Dr. Khalid Muhammad, National Advisor of the Nation of Islam. Bill Clinton and Joe Biden led Democrats to pass the The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and effectively fueled the prison industrial complex. South Africa held it first election since intergrating with the apartheid government and Invisble Man author Ralph Ellison had passed. Hip Hop was the soul vehicle of expression to protest the genocide that had been going on and KRS One was one of its leaders. The youth looked toward this leader to deliver an album reflective of their mindstate and he delivered. 

Imperative of a classic work of musical art, this album is composed of multiple great songs, but in my opinion the cornerstone song of the album is undeniably “Ah Yeah”. In this song he masterfully uses three 16 bar verses to empower and mobilize his listener much in the same way Dr. Khalid Muhammad did. This track starts with the establishment of an a capella warcry. He writes in response to western power’s having done such an incredible job destroying the rebel instinct that Afrikan people possess by publicly shaming our leaders and traditions. These lyrics are him trying to raise the psyche of a fallen warrior class and put revolt back in its holy place as opposed to the negative connotation that has been applied by the white power structure.  He essentially made a chant-like hook with an underlying message of “This is your enemy, This is how to handle him, and THIS is okay”. The aim focuses on  redirecting the accumulated anger of a traduced peoples that is often mistargeted toward self so that we may be collectively progresssive. 

He bellows:

“Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down

Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown

Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around

Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah!”

Then comes the establishment of an eerie bass line. This song structure is familiar to fans of his earlier work. It was what they were longing for. For a few albums he took the perspective of being in the classroom or office as opposed to in the battlefield with his men. He had returned to fight with us like Haile Selassie. Immediately he establishes a dual level of respect. One with his men and one with his deterrent.  

“So here I go kickin' science in ninety-five

I be illin', parental discretion is advised still

Don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his

Call me God, cause that's what the black man is

Roamin' through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist

Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess

Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One

Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent God”

In the first 2 bars of the preceding excerption he lets us know he intends to drop some knowledge, but it will not be filtered for political correctness or comfortability. The following 2 bars he establishes both a tone of encounterment and identity. Then he goes on to explain from which direction he came much like Saint Maurice's appearance upon the plagued people of Europe to let them know he has navigated and he is no spook. He goes on to talk to his listener and the most important of them, the women.

In 1994, fresh off a press tour on which she gained popularity from criticizing Bill Clinton, Sister Souljah published her first book that was heralded by black scholars and youth alike entitled No Disrespect. Her Influence was cemented in the minds of black youth and played a huge role in raising generational consciousness by dealing with topics like “how the black woman is viewed by black men” and “the black woman’s role in repairing the black family structure”. She had solely been awarded leadership duties by a disregarded demographic in a scapegoated culture and was handling it with the grace of Misty Copeland.  Her and the women she raised to consciousness needed the camaraderie of Krs One. He goes on to sell to himself:

 “Wack MC's have one style: gun buck

But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution"

They shut the fuck up, can't get with it

Down to start a riot in a minute

You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick

While other MC's are talkin' bout up with hope down with dope

I'll have a devil in my infrared scope,”

In the first five bars he addresses the enemies of the oppressed people within the oppressed people. These “Wack MC’s” are the Uncle Toms’ and Judas of the rebellious, afro-centric movement that is Hip-Hop. He says they lack discipline and do not have the self awareness to rescue themselves. In comparison with himself who uses that energy toward an ultimate goal, Independence through revolution. In the succeeding excerption KRS briefly displays the cognitive processing and coping mechanism of a warrior:

“WOY

That's for calling my father a boy and, klak, klak, klak

That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO

That's for calling my sister a ho, and for you

Buck, buck, buck  cause I don't give a motherfuck

Remember the whip, remember the chant

Remember the rope and

You black people still thinkin' about voting?

Every President we ever had lied!

You know, I'm kinda glad Nixon died.”

Throughout the preceding excerption KRS skillfully uses onomatopoeias to create a setting for his listener. There is a battle going on. Shells casings are falling to the ground and bullets are flying from high caliber weapons. He is in the thick of it and then an enemy approaches him. He musters the courage to engage with his assailant by remembering the suffrage the morals of his enemies’ elected nation-state has caused his ancestors. Then he rejoices in the death of one of their leaders, Richard Nixon.

In the second verse Krs-One addresses an age-old topic of discussion for spiritual people that was brought forth to the Afrikans of today by Noble Drew Ali, “The Prophetic Soul”. This belief dates back to ancient Buddhism in the caves of Asia taught to us by Dr. Ivan Van Sertima in his book “African Presence in Early Asia”. This belief entails that all the prophets of the world including but not limted to; Adam, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and himself were the same soul being reborn until its mission is completed.” Krs-One puts himself and a couple others in this divine line of being. 

“This is not the first time I came to the planet

 concern every time I come, only a few could understand it

I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it

I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my Commandments

I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost

I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross

I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner

Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner

They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me

So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley

They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X

Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS

Kickin' the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin' to like

Get with you, showin' you, you are invincible

The Black Panther is the black answer for real

In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale

On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away

And enters into Kwame Ture”

In the beginning of the third verse he briefly continues the theme of possessing The Prophetic Soul but now, he does not speak from a perspective of being the people who had the soul. He speaks from the perspective of the soul. This soul is traveling and looking for a host. In the first two bars he speaks of how he was able to travel without detection from the government’s surveillance. Then, he goes on to finally choose a host that is relevant to the demographic of people it intends to reach. This host is stylish and his image is relatable, so the people will be receptive of his message through familiarity. 

“In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do

So I grab the air and speak through the code

The devil cannot see through as I unload

Into another cerebellum

Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim

And leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin”

After the prophetic soul latches on to the host, KRS-One, it manifests purpose with grassroot organization and motivational speaking. Being KRS-One founded the Stop the Violence Movement in 1988 and was solely responsible for mobilizing many of the most influential Hip Hoppers against Gang Violence and Culture he had plenty of knowledge to give on the topic.

“We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin'

Have you forgotten why we buildin' in a cypher

Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid

The son of God is brighter than the son of man

The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is

We got no time for fancy mathematics

Your mental frequency frequently pickin' up static

Makin' you a naked body, addict and it's democratic

They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic”

Too often credit for the creation and establishment of a culture or society is given to one person as opposed to being evenly distributed amongst the support structure. How many times have you been taught the legacy of all the men that signed the declaration of independence? It is likely that you’ve only been taught about Thomos Jefferson. Just like there would be no Fidel Castro without the parallel influences of Che Guevara and Camilo Ceinfuegos there would be no Hip-Hop without KRS ONE. Perhaps without his tenacity, passion, and will it would have been infiltrated and exploited before it reached its full maturity. If that would have happened America would not have its current number one export. In his prime most consumers who listened to his message and gazed upon his image said “OH NO!”  from fear of what they could not understand. Today, we look at his legacy of art and effort and cant help ,but smile and yell “AH YEAH!”.

[aleenya]

first date / / hinanami prompt 01

@hinanami-week

First date prompt! <3 I love these babies from my childhood skghj. This is a bit of a long rambling mess but I hope someone finds enjoyment in it!

There was a reason Chiaki failed at dating sims. Beyond the obvious fact of how she was a girl of very little romantic experience, there was also the dilemma of just how frustratingly confusing people could be. Yes, even the weird 2D ones. Whilst the fast pace of arcade fighting games or the tricky logic riddles of puzzle games had her barely breaking out in a sweat, there was something profoundly next-level about taking someone's future - their happily ever after, so to speak - into her own hands and bringing about the optimal result. It was a responsibility she couldn't be trusted with. Kind of like how she couldn't be responsible for her own breakfast in the morning. Or for a healthy sleeping schedule. Oops. So, it was rather ironic that she'd somehow ended up with a boyfriend, even with her notoriously bad track record at breaking hearts and peeping on girls in the bathroom. (Hey, anime always did it, how was she supposed to know that was an automatic hit to the relationship flag she was trying to trigger?) With how constantly she failed at first dates in video games, the dreaded real-life first date of her own seemed like a loss just waiting to happen. Which was why, the week before it was due to occur, she'd holed herself up in her room with nothing but her trusty DS and PSP, five dating sims of various length and quality, and a copy of Animal Crossing - for when she inevitably needed a break, of course. The plan was this: she'd pour hours, hours, into clocking all five dating sims at nothing less than a 100% completion rate. No guides because that was cheating, and it wasn't like there was some walkthrough for her own date that she could keep checking throughout, though that would be ideal. Even if slightly under-handed. Oh well. She was snuggled up in the thick fluff of her weighted blanket; a bag of crumpled chips and five soda cans perched precariously on a pillow; she was ready for anything the next grueling week might throw at her. With the determination that only a true Ultimate Gamer could possess, Chiaki puffed out her cheeks in defiance of fate and set about her quest. Day one was easy enough. She'd managed to get around six hours into her first play-through with minimal errors. It was only once she'd chosen a girl to "seduce" (these games really were weird) that problems started to arise. Multiple choice questions of the proper conversational avenue to travel down never failed to muddle up her brain. Three choices were hard enough - how was she going to cope on her own date when there would be an endless array to choose from? The very thought sent anxiety swirling into the pit of her stomach. Maybe this was a good time to take that Animal Crossing break. The Animal Crossing break lasted two days. Day four was when Chiaki got serious again - and also when a pesky knock on the door interrupted her intense train of thought. "Come in," she called without taking her eyes off the screen. Yellow light pooled in from the hallway and cut through the stale darkness of her room. If Chiaki had been a vampire like the one she was trying to chat up in her visual novel then maybe she would've hissed and retreated further into her blanket cove. Which she did. Maybe she really was a vampire. That would explain the anemia. "Ugh. It reeks." A familiarly squeaky voice shattered the comfortable silence Chiaki had worked so hard on establishing. Saionji strode in pinching the bridge of her nose with Sonia and Akane at her tail. "Congrats, you've officially become a basement dweller." Chiaki peeked out from her cave of blankets, drawn like a moth to flame by the wafting scent of fresh food. "Oh. Hey guys. Long time no see." "We brought food," Sonia said with a lift of her arm to reveal the picnic basket dangling there. "We figured you might appreciate something of more ... sustenance." Akane then switched on the light, which summoned stars to glitter and dance within Chiaki's vision. All three girls let out audible gasps. "Chips? Seriously?" Akane again. Chiaki had burrowed deeper into her blanket fort in order to grant her throbbing eyes some small amount of reprieve. "Chiaki, you seriously can't have been living on cola and a bag of potato chips for the past four days!" Suddenly, the blanket was whipped out from over her head. Hiyoko plucked the console out of her hands before a very sleep-deprived Chiaki had a chance to react. "My Vampire Girlfriend? Okay, I was joking before, but you really have become a virgin basement dweller." Chiaki pointedly decided to ignore the mischievous young girl and directed her attention onto the basket that Sonia placed in front of her. Opening it up, she was greeted by a bento box ripe with fresh sushi, fluffy rice and spring rolls. "Courtesy of Hanamura," said Akane, "but don't worry, I can guarantee it's not spiked this time." Saionji huffed and dropped the DS. Chiaki was tired, but not tired enough to fail at catching her baby mid-air. "What's that look for?" "Don't act like you don't know!" They were a pleasant, albeit distracting, surprise. And so, for the rest of the day, Chiaki found herself unwillingly placed on a side quest. Sonia, Akane and Hiyoko had taken it upon themselves to clean her room up, with the latter grumbling and complaining but ultimately putting in the most work out of everyone. Sonia ended up at Chiaki's side, badgering her with questions about what game she was playing and, when Chiaki answered, why. "A practice run," said Chiaki simply, barely reacting as an empty cola can bounced off her head. "Sorry," Akane called sheepishly, "that was meant for the rubbish bin." "A practice run ...? Oh!" Sonia's face lit up. "Don't tell me! Do you have a date?" "Maybe. Tomorrow." Saying it out loud, the passage of time sunk into Chiaki with a force she hadn't expected. In a rare show of defeat, she allowed the DS to slip from her hands and topple to the floor. "But it's no use. I haven't learned anything. What am I even supposed to do?" Sonia picked up her DS, glanced at the screen, then dropped it in a striking flash of surprise. "I'm guessing not that," she said. Hiyoko peeked over her shoulder. "Aw man, even pixelated you can tell it's small." "Give me that!" Akane snatched up the console and showed the screen to Chiaki. "Seriously, this is like the worst guide you could have for this. It's not gonna teach you anything because it's not real." "That's not true," Chiaki quietly countered, "just because games aren't real doesn't mean they can't teach stuff." "Maybe, yeah, but not this type of game. You want advice? Then here's the best I can offer. Just be yourself!" "Myself?" Chiaki tilted her head. "But ... what if he doesn't like myself?" "Oh for the love of - he wouldn't be going on a date with you if he didn't, numbnuts!" Hiyoko gently thumped her fist down on Chiaki's unruly mop of hair. "That's true," Sonia said, "besides, who wouldn't like you for who you are? We certainly do!" When the trio had finally left with good luck wishes and pleas that she at least eat half the bento tonight, Chiaki found herself alone in a spotless room with a less-than spotless mind. They'd given her a lot to think about, more than the dating sim had in three days in fact. Just be myself. She didn't sleep that night. Chiaki kept powering through her dating sim, the four others still lying in a dejected heap at her side. Even if she wasn't taking strict lessons from it anymore, the idea of giving up and never completing it felt like a cardinal sin. She'd come this far; what was another twenty hours of gameplay in the grand scheme of things? On the dawn of the fifth day, there was another knock on her door. When they didn't come in upon her calling out that it was alright to, Chiaki was forced to untangle herself from her nest and answer it. Even though it was to be expected, the very image of Hajime standing in her doorway sent a jolt to her heart. "Ah, sorry." He threw up his hands in an apology, perhaps thinking he'd woken her up from a nap. Chiaki wasn't one to lose her cool. This definitely stood true now, but still, she couldn't help flushing slightly. She'd been so engrossed in her game that she'd nearly forgotten all about what she'd spent all week preparing for in the first place. "You don't have to apologize," she murmured, turning her back on him and retreating into the familiar darkness, "come in. You're very welcome." Hajime seemed a tad nervous as he slowly slipped his way inside. "What's wrong? Have you never been in a girl's room before?" It was supposed to be a joke, but it provoked a flustered reaction from Hajime and a stream of fumbled failed sentences. "Kidding." Chiaki flopped back into her blanket nest and patted at the crumpled spot at her side. Glancing side to side, Hajime made his way to where she'd made herself comfortable and collapsed in turn. "I've been worried about you," he began as he pulled at the cuff of his shirt. "You haven't replied to any of my texts. You've been eating, right?" "Sorry." He'd sent texts? Chiaki hadn't looked at her phone since the start of the week. "I've been really busy practicing." "Practicing? For what?" "For today." She showed Hajime her screen. He recoiled. "Oh ... I didn't realize you were into those kinds of games, Chiaki." "I'm not," she replied, shoulders slumping and a sigh floating off her lips, "can you keep a secret, Hajime?" With how serious she said it, Hajime's expression turned grave. "Sure, I guess?" Chiaki threw him the most serious look she could muster, complete with her cheeks puffed out in a pout and eyebrows furrowed tightly into creases. Her hands unconsciously squeezed at the console she still held. "Dating sims are my kryptonite." "Oh ... Dating sims are your - wait, what?" "I'm really bad at them," Chiaki said. She was unable to keep a tinge of sadness from her voice. "Not that I usually mind. But ever since last week, when you said you wanted us to go out somewhere, I thought that I should be prepared. It's no use though. I guess, on the bright side, I did make it to the H scene." She flashed her screen again, to which Hajime, with a sheepish smile, pushed it back down. "How about we don't take advice from porn games, yeah? They're not exactly the real deal." "Huh. Akane said the same thing." "She did?" "She said I should just be myself. But I don't know if myself is all that much fun to be around." "Why wouldn't it be?" Hajime scooted closer. "If I wanted a 2D girl, I'd just play ..." He picked up one of her strewn dating sims at random and pulled a face at the title, "Sexy Magic Witch School - seriously, Chiaki, where do you get these?" "I have my sources." "I'm not sure if I want to know what those are ..." Chiaki had to admit, with how natural their conversation was flowing, she could get used to this. She hadn't even hit her pause button yet. Unable to keep the smile from her face, Chiaki turned back to her DS and asked, "so what would you like to do?" "As in?" "You know. Dating. That kind of stuff. We're supposed to go out, yeah?" "We're not supposed to do anything," Hajime replied. "Really, I'm ... as good at these types of things as you are. But we don't have to go anywhere if you don't want, or do anything that you don't want. That's not what dates are about." "They aren't?" Why did everything have to be so complicated? Her dating sims had explicitly said otherwise, yet Hajime was saying they didn't have to do anything. Before she could formulate a proper response, Hajime changed the topic unexpectedly and asked, "have you slept?" Oh. Sleep. "I've had one or two naps," she mused, thinking back on her five days of intensive training. She'd been so caught up and involved in what she was playing that she'd barely allowed herself the luxury of sleep. She was definitely starting to feel it now. Chiaki rubbed at her sore eyes and swallowed a yawn. Hajime's flustered expression gave way to amusement. He sighed, but Chiaki didn't miss the smile on his lips. "Seriously, what am I going to do with you?" "Hopefully not this." She flashed her DS screen again and Hajime spluttered in embarrassment. "I like you, Hajime, but you haven't triggered that relationship flag yet." "You know that's not what I meant!" She laughed. Hajime climbed to his feet and extended his hand; she took it, stumbling upwards on wobbly knees and feeling the ache in her legs that could only accumulate from five days of non-stop sitting with only the occasional bathroom break. "But is it really okay?" she asked as he guided her to the bed and tossed her blanket back over her body. "I know you were really looking forward to this all week." "Who's to say this isn't our first date now?" said Hajime. "Ah, but, if you'd rather I go ..." She grasped his hand and tugged him down onto the bed. Hajime let out a less than manly squeal and fell down on top of her, which Chiaki recalled was a very common trope in My Vampire Girlfriend that signaled she was on the right romantic route. So she'd done something right after all! This was definitely a romance flag trigger. Chiaki could almost see the achievement popping up on Steam. "Path unlocked," Chiaki said cryptically, with a teasing smile. Hajime scrambled off, face red, and Chiaki twisted around onto her side. "You can sleep next to me, if you'd like," she said. "I can't think of a better way to have a date." Though visibly embarrassed and tense, he did lie down to face her. Chiaki grabbed his hand and intertwined her fingers with his own. "Jeez," he said, "why am I not surprised that napping is your idea of a perfect first date?" "It's not yours?" she quizzed, voice thick with the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. "I'm not opposed," he hummed. "Good." Pause. Save progress. And take a screenshot - just for good measure. At least, that's what Chiaki would have done if this were a dating sim event with a cute CG. But it wasn't. And that was for the best. Chiaki had decided that in this case, nothing could beat the real thing.

[imagine-loki]

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Forty-Eight

AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

NOTES:  Right so, I am using Irish mythology here, and what I have them say about Bálor is what is said of in the old tales from Ancient Ireland.

The Quinjet landed on the top of a drumlin, looking over the small valleys between it and the other ones surrounding it. Slowly, the Avenger's made their way out.

"So, according to reports," Stark got the different calls to the emergency services up on his mask and scanned them all. "Our slithering friends all made their way up the River Bann not too long ago and are now in Lough, Nee-ag, Nee…how the hell do you pronounce that?"

"Nay, it's pronounced like Nay," Thor informed him.

"How do you even know that?" Barton half demanded.

"Allspeak permits a speaker to understand the language as a whole, that is an Irish word with Irish pronunciation," Thor shrugged. "It is actually a very easy language."

We'll take your word for it," Stark commented. "Right so, we just need to…."

"Tony?" Rogers didn't like the way Tony ceased speaking.

"We're in trouble."

"Tony, could you actually say something of use?"

"In the lake, I can sense them." The team looked at Wanda. "One of them, I cannot read his mind, it is too complex, too dark."

"That will be the one we have to concern ourselves with," Thor commented.

"I think we have to worry about them all, what with three of them being three supersized sea snakes," Stark commented.

"They are nothing in comparison to him." Loki dismissed.

"Does this "Him" have a name, it's getting a little Harry Potter not actually naming him?" Barton asked.

"He has many names, but on this realm, there are stories of him that date back millennia on this island, he is known mostly as Bálor, the King of all demons, he has a single eye in the centre of his forehead, he is said to be able to bring about drought and blight and can destroy all in front of him with a single glance. It is also said no army can withstand the eye." Thor explained.

"Another story is that the eye is always covered with seven cloaks to keep it cool. He took the cloaks off one by one. At the first, ferns began to wither. At the second, grass began to redden. At the third, wood and trees began to heat up. At the fourth, smoke came out of wood and trees. At the fifth, everything got red hot. At the sixth and the seventh, the whole land caught fire." Hogun added. "There were said to be likened to the Jotnar, great enemies of the Tuatha De Danann, the old gods of this land. What they recall is the old battle that took place here, and the Tuatha were the Aesir that assisted them. There is a reason this is the Midgardian land of Saints and Scholars, the last standing of the written text on this realm for a while."

"Yeah, we get it, Ireland is great, we've seen the advert campaigns, so let's get to the part where we find out how to kill the cyclops." Tony rushed along.

"We are dealing with a creature that can set the earth of fire, there is very little we can do only hope we can kill the serpents before making our way to him, and pray he does not rise from his cave before we get there." Loki sighed, knowing the futility of their task.

"We're dead," Barton stated factually.

"Then we die fighting," Fandral shrugged.

"Indeed, but all beings die at some stage," Volstagg added.

"I never intended getting to old age," Stark continued, "And helping kill a super King Demon sounds better than the assumed alcohol poisoning that was the key suspect for it."

"So, now that we have established we are all stupid enough to die on this quest, we had best get going," Loki growled as they made their way along the valley. As it happened, he fell in step with Stark after a few moments, the billionaire looking at him from time to time. "Norns, if you have something to say, will you just say it."

"Alexia."

"What of her?"

"How is she?"

"Were you not talking to my brother of such matters already?"

"Yes."

"Then surely his response is enough for you?"

"You would think that, but Thor doesn't know Al like you do, she trusts you more than anyone else." Loki huffed at those words. "You screwed up?"

"None of your business," Loki hastened slightly to leave the billionaire behind him. "Why do you care anyway?"

"Pepper had a soft spot for her."

"Your other half? You ask for her? Does she even know you are here, or that I am to ask?"

"Fine, I miss the sarcastic brat alright? I miss her digging me out of holes with Pep, she was a good kid. I just want to know she is okay."

"She is settled and singlehandedly stopped the realms from falling into chaos once more."

"Yeah, Thor said."

"So, you can live for whatever amount of time it takes for Bálor to decide to kill you knowing that for the next four thousand years, she is keeping an eye on the worlds."

"Four...how is that possible?"

"She has eaten Idunn's apple."

"Idunn?"

Loki threw his eyes up. "Yes, Idunn. Idunn is a goddess who just so happens to possess apples that can give one longevity of life. Alexia ate one and as a result, can live for many years to come."

"Okay, what gives Reindeer Games?"

"What are you prattling on about?"

"You two were as thick as thieves, why are you snapping at her name?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Wait," Tony looked around and realised the others were too focused on their own issues to pay heed to him and the God. "Did you try some funny business or something?"

"I never did anything to her she did not ask for."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Loki turned on his heels and came close to the genius. "Alexia and I have shared a bed, on her request on more than one occasion, in fact, she was the initiator, is that clear enough for you?"

Stark's brows rose slightly at that. "And you are pissed at that why?" Loki's nostrils flared and he swallowed. "Wait…you actually like her," He realised, Loki's eyes widened, confirming his suspicions, "And she pushed you away." Loki turned and walked away. "No, wait, she broke your heart, hasn't she?" Tony's voice was low enough for Loki and Thor, who was the next closest to them to hear.

Loki went to put his hand around Stark's throat when he sensed something. "They know we are here."

"What?" Thor half demanded. "Not possible."

"Jörmungandr is under our feet," Loki informed him.

"I do not know what a Jörmungandr is, but there is one of the snakes beneath us," Wanda confirmed, her eyes telling her fear. "They are coming for us."

"What do we do?" Sif asked, looking to Thor for orders as he unsheathed her sword.

"We can only see where it surfaces." A moment later, the soil beneath them seemed to begin to tremble. Cracks began to form. "Scatter," Thor ordered as he rose to the air, Stark, Wanda and Wilson doing the same, eyeing the ground carefully.

"Where is it?" Stark checked his computer screen, but it could not track the movements of the creature under the surface.

Loki's senses were piqued as he kept his breathing steady to see if he could sense it, he could tell it was close, but could not tell where it would surface. What he sensed, however, was the ground seemed to be vibrating, and though it should be possible, he felt as though it was heating up. "What is he doing?"

"Loki?" Volstagg looked at him worriedly, "What is afoot?"

"Things most foul." Was all that Loki replied for a moment.

"Anything of more substance than that?" Barnes growled.

"You do not understand, Loki is not our closest of allies, but if he senses something is off, you listen," Sif explained.

"Always willing to use me when it suited, weren't you Sif?" Loki smirked.

"Is there a second meaning to that?" Barton asked curiously, the disgusted look he got from the female warrior answered that for him. "Just asking."

"Loki?" Thor landed.

Loki had gone silent before his eyes widened. "Run!" everyone did as instructed and fled in different directions. To Loki's terror, he realised what the large serpent was looking for, looking to the sky, he sighed and ceased fleeing.

"LOKI!" Thor watched in horror as the ground around Loki erupted, and he began to fall. Before the older prince could do anything, he and the others watched as the large snake rose from the hole, it's jaws snapping shut from swallowing the Trickster prince. Thor attacked with his hammer, and though he landed a blow to the serpent's head, the arrival of the others caused the Avenger's to become occupied with defending themselves, with Jörmungandr making its way back under the surface, towards the lake, the scrap of Loki's coat tail torn and stuck to its great fang as it did so.

[glass-ladybug]

road trip fic

At first, it wasn't noticeable. Just a few people, gone for the day. It was swiftly pinned down as a 24 hour bug. After two days, people began to wonder about the flu. After three, people started getting scared. Missing posters went up, phone calls were made, police were sent to look around, suspecting a prank, or maybe even a slew of movers, left for another town. But nothing came of it- none of the fifteen newly missing people were found. Council members, officers, regular members of the community- gone. The second Bea came home to her eerily quiet apartment, she knew. It was a feeling in her stomach: a pit that sank down, down, down until she wanted to throw up, or scream, or cry to make it disappear. But she held on, calling his name and ransacking the house, opening every door until it was overwhelmingly obvious her father wasn't home. She didn't sleep that night. When Bea fled from her house to work that morning, trying so /so/ hard to cling to some semblance of normality, Creek wasn't there. On any other day, Bea would've grumbled a bit about having to pick up the slack, but would've been secretly relieved to have a day away from the old creep. Today, she sat in the backroom and buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking as her entire world broke down around her. She killed her father. Or, if the cave-in hadn't, dehydration soon would. An eye for an eye, Mae for her father. She briefly wondered if it was worth it. Her dad wasn't a bad guy. Creek, maybe, but not her dad. He was a man who had been broken to the point of no return, but he didn't deserve to die, not like that. Or maybe he did. The cult killed people. Her /dad/ could've killed people for all she knew. And if he hadn't, he'd certainly stood by while others did. This was too much. Too much to handle now, in this cramped, cluttered backroom by herself. Maybe too much to handle ever. But she couldn't live in denial, like Mae. Or excuse it like Gregg. Or, worse yet, agree with it like Angus. So there, in the storage room of the little store, her store, -she owned it now, she supposed- Bea made the active decision to live with it. ----------------- Possum Springs was healing. Things were still pretty messed up, but after a month, they were getting better. Aunt Molly was gone. Mae's mom kept assuring her that no, no, her aunt was fine, she was probably on a vacation, or a work trip and had forgotten to tell them. Mae pretended it was the truth. Other people were missing too- the head council member, some lesser ones, and a whole bunch of people that Mae had known. People she'd talked to, shared meals with, waved to from across the street. She couldn't go to the woods anymore. Even Germ's house was too close to That Place for her. She didn't like to think about it- preferring to shove it to some deep dark corner of her mind and forget. ((Too fast of a tone change?)) So Mae went to work. She'd gotten a job at Taco Buck, which was good! True, she didn't have a car to deliver with, but she /could/ Naruto run down the street at an alarming pace, and that was good enough. Mae balanced a bag of Mega Tacos in her arms. Struggling to pick up her ringing flip-phone, she didn't bother to check the Caller ID. "Heyyyyy." Gregg's voice echoed through the tinny receiver. "Hey, Mae! What's up?" "Not a lot. I was thinking about going to the park. To, y'know... get away." Gregg's voice filled with understanding. "Oh. Yeah, I get it." There was a beat of silence. "Can me and Angus come? We're not doing anything tonight, so I thought maybe we could all hang out before..." The words 'before we leave for good' hung in the air. Mae waved the growing pain in her chest away. "Sounds good! I'll invite Bea, too." "Nice!" "Five okay?" Gregg leaned away from his phone for a second, and Mae could hear muffled shouting. "Yeah, that works!" "See you then." "Bye, dude!" Gregg hung up with a faint click. Two down, one to go. Mae dialed Bea's number, impatiently waiting for her to pick up. "Hello?" Bea answered. "Hey, Bea! You free tonight?" "Are you asking-" Bea's low voice held an element of shock. "Gregg, Angus and I are going to the park, you wanna come?" "Oh. Sure, okay." "Five work for you?" "Yep. Bye." "See y-" /click/. Well. That was hasty. Now, Mae had to deliver some tacos. --------------------------------------- Bea liked spending as little time as possible at her empty house, which was why she was thrilled at Mae's offer of the park. Even if she was expecting something else. No, no, she was just tired! Long day at work. As always. Possum Springs didn't really have a park, per say. It had a tiny little plot of land with a fountain that only worked half the time, and a run down swing set. But she'd go anyway. When she arrived, Mae was already swinging as high as she possibly could, seemingly on an endless quest to swing completely around the bar. Gregg was beside her, shifting from side to side in his swing in an attempt to shove her off. She sat down next to Angus. "Hey." "Hey." It was good. A conversation with Angus wasn't exactly talkative, but it was peaceful, and fufilling for both of them. Quiet, but nice. Just like Angus. They sat together, the sun oddly warm for November, watching Gregg and Mae grow increasingly rowdy in their efforts to dethrone the other. A slight breeze ruffled the remaining leaves on the trees. Mae let out a shout, and hopped to the ground, Gregg crowing wildly in the background. She dusted her shirt off indignantly, before eying her friends oddly. There was something different about her, Bea noticed. She looked less... free. Her usually bright eyes had a hint of something else behind them. Something tired, and broken. It scared Bea that this was usual, now. ((FIX LAST SENTENCE LATER)) Mae motioned for Gregg to join them, and looked critically at the scenery around them before smiling widely. "I've been thinking." Angus sighed. "Hey!" Mae chortled. "That's not fair!" "Go on." Bea drawled. "I have a plan." "For?" "Well..." Mae paused for dramatic effect, obviously relishing in their anticipation. Bea sort of wanted to kick her in the kneecap. "We should go on a road trip!" Mae looked around at them, gauging their reactions. Bea started coughing loudly, hacking shocked breaths escaping from her lungs. Gregg shot to his feet. "Yeah! We totally should!" Mae slung an arm around her best friend, grinning devilishly at Angus and Bea. Angus seemed to be contemplating the option. He took a deep breath. "No." Bea, still in shock, noticed the remarkable similarity between the downcast expressions on the two daredevil's faces. Gregg pouted, and Mae made her eyes as wide and innocent as possible. Angus wasn't fazed. "We can't just stop now, Bug. Not when we're this close." Gregg adjusted his leather jacket slightly. "These are our friends! And, hell, soon we're not gonna even see them anymore!" Gregg pleaded with his boyfriend, who looked away. "The Plan can be put on hold for what-" Gregg looked inquisitively at Mae. "-three days? Four?" "Dunno. I didn't actually think I'd get this far." Mae said sheepishly. Angus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where would we even go?" "We can work out the details later!" "...This is ridiculous." "I'm ridiculous!" Gregg chimed in. Bea felt inclined to agree. Resolve cracking, Angus furrowed his brows. "We have work." "We'll leave Friday, and call in sick on Monday." "The four of us? On the same day? In a small town?" "Yeah, if anyone asks we'll say we all caught the travel bug!" Gregg's excitement was gaining momentum, and it was obvious Angus wasn't going to hold up under the blond's relentless assault of sweetness. Angus turned to Bea, sending a silent plea for backup. Bea threw her hands up in a "what can you do" gesture, smiling slightly. He groaned, resting his head in his hands. "Bea, please..." Thanks, Angus. The decision was in /her/ hands now. Greeaaat. Mae seemed to sense this too, as she quickly switched her attention to Bea, giving her her best angelic smile. Bea said nothing. Mae continued to flutter her eyelashes. Bea, again, said nothing. She wasn't going to lose. Apparently, neither was Mae, as she detached herself from Gregg to sidle up next to the older girl. Bea raised a single eyebrow, a talent she possessed that made Mae insanely incensed. Mae winked. Sighing heavily, Bea pursed her lips. "We'll use my car." Mae shot up with a cheer, pulling the four of them into a hug. "Oh my God Oh my God /Oh my God/, we're gonna do this!" Mae pulled back, looking critically at Angus. "We /are/ doing this, right?" "I guess." "Yay!" Mae cheered, burying her face in Angus's scarf. Bea didn't miss the glare Angus threw at her over Mae's shoulder. Serves him right. If he didn't want this outcome, he shouldn't have handed it over to Bea. "So," Mae spouted happily, seemingly vibrating with energy, "where are we gonna go? Cuz', I've actually got nothing, and-" "The Grand Canyon." Gregg interrupted. "Huh?" "The Grand Canyon! That's... That's a place people go, right? We could do that?" "Yeah..." Mae said, pausing to think for a second. "Yeah, you're right! Bea, Angus, what do you think?" Angus pursed his lips, clearly still unhappy that this was happening. "It's a long way." "More places to go in between!" Bea had to see the logic in that. And, well, it'd be nice to see such an iconic part of America. Even if the whole country was on an economic slide due to power-hungry officials and underhanded corrupt dealings. Wait, no! Focus, Bea. "How long would this take?" She asked skeptically. Gregg quickly whipped out his phone, fingers tapping across the screen at a lightening pace. "Well, if we..." He shook his head slightly, blonde strands of hair sweeping to the other side of his forehead. "No, no... If we hit Vegas, which we definitely are, then..." Gregg typed a few more things onto his screen, before dropping his phone into the pocket of his leather jacket. ((Too much description of Gregg?)) "Accounting for driving, snack breaks, stops, sleeping, and at least one random accident, I'd say four days? Roughly?" Bea nodded. "We could leave on Friday after work, do stops and stuff on Saturday and Sunday, arrive at the canyon on Monday, then get home early Tuesday morning before work." Bea looked at Angus, almost in disbelief that she was siding with Gregg. "We... could actually do this. It's not as ludicrous as it sounds." Looking as if he'd just been drafted into battle, Angus merely sighed heavily. "Okay, fine! Fine. We'll pack tonight." Mae's eyes were alight with joy. "I'll grab some snacks." They needed this, Bea thought. They all needed to escape from this town, even if just for a little bit. Mae most of all. Mae and Gregg spun each other around again. Bea watched thoughtfully. "Tomorrow, right after everyone's done working, you grab your stuff and meet me at the Pickaxe. I'll pick everyone up from there, and we can head out, I guess." Mae waved happily, looking more alive than Bea had seen her in weeks. "I'll see you then!" Gregg ferociously bobbed his head up and down in agreement, and Angus nodded in affirmation. "I'll see you then." Bea whispered. ((I gotta add an ending sentence that's a lil happier bc I want this to be a fluffier fic))