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pascalls · 4 years ago

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The Persistence of Fate

Summary: Kimera Togo is a vigilante hero operating in the Kansai Region of Japan. After nearly thirty years, the aftermath of the Kamino Incident pulls him back to destiny - back to his former friend and the now-retired Symbol of Peace. Despite his tumultuous origin leading them on diverging paths, he is unable to resist the call to find Toshinori Yagi once again.

This story details the origin of Charlie's BNHA universe origin story and his connection to All Might. It's a bit long, so beware.

Music: Little Pistol - Mother Mother

The sun refused to show its face. In the bleak grayness, it remained hidden behind heavy, foreboding clouds that hovered ominously over the tops of buildings and blanketed the city in darkness before night even fell. The air was thick with humidity, the buzz of insects in the small trees droning absently in the midday. Sun or no, the city had life. Trains rumbled by, causing the ground to vibrate beneath the concrete streets. Cars beeped with indignation and citizens walked by casually, enamored with their own conversations. Never quite paying attention to much beyond themselves and their immediate surroundings.

But who could blame them?

Weeks had passed since the Kamino Incident in Yokohama. Even hours away, in the heart of Kyoto, it was all anyone had spoken of in the days following. Fear had enveloped the city - what would they do without the Symbol of Peace? Without All Might? - and yet life continued as normal. Maybe Yokohama was a little too far away… When was the last time All Might had even shown his face in Kyoto anyway?

The nearest pro-heroes were those at the Fat Gum Agency. Smaller-time heroes drifted in and out of the city here and there… But maybe its disconnection from All Might meant that the fear of the League of Villains had been kept to a minimum… There was no reason for them to come to Kyoto anyway.

...Maybe.

But that didn’t mean that the city was villain-free.

“Fury. We’ve got a report coming in from Minami Ward. There’s been an organized assault near the Katsura River.”

Ears twitching, the crackle of the radio pulled Kimera from his silent reflection. From his position atop one of the city’s temple shrines, the vigilante hero had been keeping an eye on the area. It had been relatively quiet - until now. He’d anticipated emboldened villains to show their faces eventually. Figures, it’d be on one of the gloomiest days of the year thus far.

“Details,” he replied, unmoving from his perch just yet. He’d learned a long time ago to prepare before launching himself into action. A notch in one of his long rabbit-like ears and scars that remained hidden underneath his clothing were stark reminders of the lessons he’d learned in his youth.

“No names are coming up in the database yet, but we’re still pulling. Two villains so far. One power-quirk, one technical quirk. We can provide backup, if needed.”

“Hold for now, but be ready.” Kimera finally shifted his feet, moving from his crouch and hopping across the temple’s slanted roof to the ground below. In the cover of the gloom, he was able to sprint away and out of sight of any curious passerby, his quick steps carrying him in the direction of the Minami Ward. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken on two villains at once. He was confident in his abilities, though it had taken him several decades to get to where he was now. And even then… he would need to be cautious. If he ran into any pro-heroes on the way, he’d need to be quick about absconding before the police were called.

“Four kilometers to the south, Fury. Better be quick.”

“Going as fast as I can!” Kimera snapped, a bit forcefully into the radio receiver. He was quick, but he was no damn bullet train. At least not without unleashing some raw power that would be more detrimental than helpful before he could even face the villains.

Before the voice on the other end of his communicator could crackle in his ear again, the rumbling echo of an explosion rocked the ground beneath his feet as he ran. The shockwave sent a spray of water from the river across the ground, bringing Kimera to a halt as he neared the walkway that bordered the river itself. Villain spotted. People ran in panic away from the water’s edge, shouting and hollering as they went. Kimera paid them no mind.

“Hey… It’s the Night Fury!”

He peered to the side as a fleeing tourist pointed out his presence. He would be hard to ignore in the midst of a villain attack, when he was not doing his utmost to remain unseen. With his shiny black scales and blazing orange hair, Kimera was instantly recognizable. Even if he didn’t have his sidekicks with him.

“Get out of here, will you?!” He snarled at the finger-pointer, sharp teeth and glaring green eyes clearly less-than-pleased; an act which made the tourist recoil and continue his escape away from the riverside. The fewer citizens were in the way, the easier it would be for Kimera to leap into action, aiming for the water where another surge of waves announced the presence of the villain that had caused the commotion to begin with.

From the water, the villain emerged, his body rough and sand-paper like as he roared an aggressive challenge. Rows of serrated teeth lined his mouth, a sharp fin jutting from his back. He was large - easily five stories tall. Kimera assumed this was the power-quirk that his sidekick had spoken of. So where was the technical-quirk user?

His question was answered for him as a figure sprung from the shark villain’s back, hurling down and landing with a sickening slap in front of Kimera, cackling with pleasure as it eyed its apparent competition. Kimera slowed to a stop again - taking in the details of the villain’s flat, rippled head making a foul sucking sound with each of the villain’s inhales.

“Huh,” Kimera began with an unimpressed snuff. “Guess calling you a ‘sucker’ is a bit too obvious, hm?”

The villain hissed at him. “I won’t be insssssulted by a man who issssn’t even a real hero! Where are the actual heroes? They too busy to bother with us?!” The suckerfish villain sounded insulted. As if Kimera’s very presence was an attempt at mockery.

Temper flared, the vigilante hero narrowed his gaze at the other, a low, threatening growl churning its way from his chest and up into his throat.

“Man. You’re really gonna wish the pro-heroes were here,” Kimera replied, bracing his large feet underneath him before using them to surge forward in a burst of vicious and feral speed. A pro-hero would hesitate to kill; held back by the law of the land.

The Night Fury had no such qualms.

=====

His parents were unremarkable when they died. Crushed by the rubble of their own home, his mother and father had likely passed away without much pain. Neither of them had been heroes, foregoing the use of their quirks to take on boring, normal office jobs. Someone has to do it, his father had always said. Especially when money was so short.

He’d grown up in a small hovel-like home in Osaka, his quirks manifesting fairly early in his development. Shiny black scales, not dissimilar to his father’s, dotted his arms and legs, the limbs ending in pointed, thick claws. Long rabbit-like ears sprung from the top of his head and swiveled to and fro, mirroring those of his mother’s. Neither had a tail, but Kimera was blessed with the strong appendage to round off his quirk. His mother had affectionately called him a hodge-podge of animal quirks, and he figured that was fairly true. All he knew is that he had the blazing orange hair that was typical from his father’s family tree and the green eyes that his mother was known for. A hodge-podge of many things.

Togo Kimera had not been allowed to go to school. As soon as he could walk and talk, his mother and father had tasked him with managing their small side business: selling small bundles of flowers which they grew in their free time in the small window boxes that lined their ramshackle home. He knew his parents wanted better… but if they were to keep their home, it was the sacrifice they all had to make. Even now, Kimera found it hard to resent their decision.

He was twelve when an evening was interrupted by chaos and calamity, the Kimera family caught woefully unprepared. Their home was shattered by a rampaging villain, showering them with sharp and heavy debris and burying them like a tomb. His parents had gone swiftly, but Togo had been simply trapped, his limbs snared underneath him and panic gripping his senses until fear left him silent and unconscious.

Kimera emerged from the rubble two days later; thin, dehydrated, and terrified. The pro-heroes had come and gone, leaving him behind. It hadn’t been until he was cornered by a concerned stranger who informed him of the events that he realized that his home - and his parents - were gone for good. Before he could be escorted to the police, the young, fearful boy bolted down the street and into hiding, surviving on water from the Yodo river and stolen food from street vendors where he could find them. He refused to be taken to the police; frustrated with the knowledge that they would simply place him in a strange home with strange people. Or even worse… in a place where there were even more kids with sad stories like his own.

He didn’t want to hear it.

He was fourteen when he decided to leave Osaka, venturing to the north and towards Tokyo. Kimera knew that very few opportunities existed for a homeless teenager in the city… but he was tired of walking in the shadow his parents left behind. Tired of being sad and dejected… tired of simply being. Something beyond the sun called him - and so he went.

Exhaustion stopped him along the way. Lacking a map or any real sense of direction, Kimera found himself lost in the Shizuoka Prefecture, wandering tiredly and almost aimlessly. Man up, he told himself. But that did little to curb his waning energy or fill his belly with a substantial meal. Frustrated and tired, the boy curled up on a bench along the sea-side, the sound of the waves in the dark distance acting as his lullaby.

The sound of voices in the near distance woke him. The sun had barely peered over the edge of the horizon as his eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head, staring down the beach. He was still tired. And still hungry. But he remained where he was for a moment, allowing the sleep to clear from his eyes as figures strolled down the sand in his direction. Ears twitching, he sat himself up and listened.

“You really think the exam’s gonna be that hard? I haven’t studied at all!”

“Of course, stupid! They have to be hard. Otherwise anyone could graduate from U.A. It’s prestigious for a reason!”

Kimera snuffed in realization. They were students. High school students, by the look of them. Uneducated as he was, he wasn’t stupid. He remembered seeing other kids coming to and from school as he stood on the street corners with his baskets of flowers. He’d still learned to read and write, though his parents had been mediocre teachers. But he’d never heard of U.A. Prestigious? What did that mean?

Turning his gaze away as the strange students passed him, he kept watching them as they walked away, ears trained on their conversation. It was morning, wasn’t it…? So they were going to school?

The shaggy-haired boy opted to chase his curiosity, allowed the students to get a significant lead before he hopped off the bench and followed them. He wondered what high school was like, what having friends like these students was like, what having nice clothes and backpacks was like. He was well practiced at staying out of the eye of the general public, having lived on the street for well over two years now. And by the time the students arrived at the gates of the school, Kimera had pulled back a bit, ensuring that he wasn’t seen. There were students milling back and forth, chatting and laughing, sharing stories, and exchanging fake air-punches with one another. Like they were fighting.

Prestigious… Kimera rolled the word around in his brain for a few moments. He’d heard it before. When his mother spent evenings huddled with her tiny television in her room. Prestigious high schools were often established for kids with powerful quirks. To train them to be heroes, she’d said.

Can I be a hero too? He’d asked her one day as he sat next to her alongside the street, flowers nestled in his basket. He remembered that she’d pat him on the head and had said nothing. Thinking back on it… maybe that had been her way of telling him that he was not meant for that life. Thinking even more, he recalled seeing the pro-heroes that had defeated the villain that had destroyed his house. They spoke on the TV about how difficult the villain had been, but that rescue efforts had deemed it to be a low-casualty event.

A churning feeling of bitterness bubbled in his throat before he swallowed it back. It had been the villain’s fault, not the heroes. Still… they had seemed so casual...

“Hey, wanna share this sweet roll I picked up on the way? Don’t think I could eat the whole thing.”

The voice drifted towards him from the throng of students, his attention zeroing in on that sweet roll as his stomach gurgled angrily at him. He hadn’t eaten in a good while - almost two days, in fact. He’d long since learned to curb his hunger when it got bad… But seeing such a delectable treat being held up and brandished so openly…

Without thinking, Kimera abandoned his hiding spot, creeping towards the students which had been lingering behind the others that had already entered the school’s gates. A sudden ravenous urge to eat spurred him forward, stalking them with predator-like intent before the boy lunged.

With a snap of his sharp teeth and a possessive growl, Kimera leapt and snatched the sweet roll from the student that had been offering it to another, causing the boy to cry out in surprise.

“What the hell?!” He said as Kimera landed, sweet roll in mouth, and bolted lightning-fast back to his hiding spot. Part of him knew that he looked less like a boy and more like a greedy street dog, but his stomach didn’t seem to care. He’d gotten away with his prize and, with relish, devoured it once he was certain that the student hadn’t come after him. It was big enough to fill him up for a whole day! And he’d never had anything that sweet or delectable.

When he was full, Kimera allowed the most fiendish idea to cross his mind. If U.A. was full of students like this… coming to and fro… no doubt, their backpacks FULL of other goodies… then possibly…

Yes, he decided. He’d stick around for a while.

---

Kimera took advantage of his quirk - his quick and stealthy movement and keen senses - to keep up his routine thievery. He never took money… only food. To him, that made it less of a crime. It was a stupid distinction to make, but to a lonely, hungry teenage boy, it was all he could do to make sense of his situation.

He had begun to think that he’d get away with his trick in perpetuity, but it was not to be. One day he knew he’d pick the wrong target. And he knew it the instant the student turned on him, using strong arms to put Kimera in a head-lock before the boy could abscond with the boxed lunch he’d been trying to nab.

“Not so fast!” The student said, keeping a strong hold on Kimera as he squirmed and thrashed, trying to escape his captor’s grip.

“Let me GO!” Kimera hissed, dropping the box and scrabbling at the other with his claws. The other boy was much larger than he was, and older too, though not by much. Still, there weren’t many people who could manage to withstand one of the boy’s vicious bites. He resorted to his teeth, latching them in the student’s skin before he was released. Kimera didn’t wait to make a hasty escape, though he didn’t anticipate being chased.

“I just want to TALK!” The student called to him as he ran. Talk?! Why?! Kimera ignored the other boy’s pleas, but he was not an endurance runner. Despite his petty pilfering, he still ate poorly and much less than he should have. His legs hollered at him in their exhaustion until he was certain they would give out. It was only then that Kimera knew his only option was to turn and try and be threatening to scare the other off. It was clear that he could be outrun.

So he swiveled, turning on his heel to face the other in the middle of the small side street. Like a feral animal, he growled, the sharp spines along the back of his neck bristled in alarm and fearful aggression.

“Leave me alone!” Kimera snapped, his tail thrashing from side to side in agitation as the student approached, hands out as though he was trying to be placating. But Kimera knew better… he had grown suspicious in his days alone. Wary of strangers, he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“I just wanted to apologize,” the other boy said, eventually stopping short of where Kimera stood and maintaining a distance between them. “You’ve been taking everyone’s food these last few weeks and I wanted to figure out why. Everyone’s kind of upset, you know.”

Apologize? Kimera squinted at the boy, his yellow hair framed in the light of the sun behind him. It was too bright out here. Kimera was used to the dark. And it was hard to make out the boy’s features.

“...I was hungry.” He kept his sentences short. He didn’t want to give anything more away than he needed to.

“Are you… a student around here?”

“No.”

“So… where are you from?”

Kimera didn’t understand why this all mattered. And he was still too tired to keep running. So he exhaled in an agitated huff.

“Osaka.”

“What’s your name?”

A bit of the tension in his shoulders released as his body began to decompress with the realization that he was no longer in panic-mode. But he was still skeptical.

“...Kimera,” he answered, his tail curling around him defensively. He almost jumped when the other boy took a few more steps forward and offered his hand cheerfully. It was only then that Kimera could see his face properly, his bright blue eyes and blazing golden hair seeming ethereal in the glow of the sunlight.

“Well Kimera,” the boy said with a grin. “My name is Toshinori.”

Kimera stared at the offered hand, confused by the boy’s invitation to shake it.

“Let me buy you some food!”

---

Scared as he had been, Kimera was not one to turn down food. Toshinori had been generous, reassuring the boy that he would not turn him in for his food stealing and treating him to a relatively large and hearty meal at a local shop that seemed baffled about the state of Kimera’s thin, frail body.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so much. Not in his whole life. It made him pleasantly sleepy, but he had been unable to escape further probing by the older U.A. student who was curious about where he’d come from and why he was hovering around the school.

“Was just like I told you… I was hungry,” Kimera had said truthfully. He’d been on his own for some time, he’d told Toshinori, though he resented the pity he knew lingered under the surface of Toshinori’s gaze. “I came from Osaka thinking that maybe there was more in Tokyo… maybe I could get a job or something… But I guess I didn’t make it that far.”

Kimera admitted that his family had long-since passed away, left to his own devices after his home was destroyed. Toshinori listened, his eyes somber as he did so.

“Did you not ever think of becoming a hero instead?” Toshinori had asked, clearly confused as to why that had not been presented as an option. But Kimera looked at him skeptically, answering in little more than a scoff.

“Kids like me don’t become heroes. Kids like you do. Going to that fancy school and all. That’s what you go there for, right? I heard some other kids talking about your exams and stuff.”

Toshinori nodded, explaining that U.A. had some of the best and brightest - that it was where all the pro-heroes went before they were great. Most of what he said sailed right over Kimera’s head. He didn’t know how a school could be so special, but then again, he’d never even set foot in one. Their experiences were so different…

“So…” Toshinori began when the day began to turn to night. Kimera had noticed that the boy had seemed to skip some of his classes… But he said nothing about it. Maybe he was old enough to do that. “Do you have somewhere to go? Other places to get food that doesn’t involve maybe… getting heroes in training upset? Someone meaner than me might nab you eventually.” He grinned a little sheepishly, as if apologizing for their earlier wrestling match.

Kimera scratched at one of his long ears, hesitant to admit that he had nothing of the sort.

“I have somewhere to sleep,” he lied. “It’s just food that’s hard to find.” Couldn’t lie about that. Toshinori had already caught him stealing it.

Toshinori seemed to think, silent for a few moments before he smiled again, setting a hand down on the table between them with enthusiasm.

“How about this! You come meet me after school tomorrow. I��ll bring you food if you tell me more about that quirk of yours.”

Kimera blinked. “My quirk…? Why do you wanna know about it?”

“I’m a hero in training. It makes sense to learn as much about different fighting styles to make sure I know how to handle each one. It’ll give me a leg up in my studies - it’s a mutual trade-off! How about it?”

The justification seemed shaky. It was only later that he would realize that this was Toshinori’s way of checking up on the younger boy. And keeping him out of trouble. But Kimera didn’t understand that as he stared at Toshinori’s smile and excited hand gestures.

On the other hand… free food was free food…

“...Alright. But… just make sure no other kids are around. I don’t need them knowing I’m still hanging around,” Kimera eventually agreed. As long as he could stay out of trouble, get a free meal, and be okay with sleeping on a bench or in the train station somewhere, he could manage to show Toshinori a thing or two about his quirk.

If only he’d realized that his hesitant agreement that day would change his life.

---

In the weeks that followed, Kimera realized that the pity that had been in Toshinori’s eyes on the day they’d met had all but vanished. With regular meals, Kimera had been steadily putting on weight, the life in his limbs filling him with energy that he hadn’t felt since he was tiny. He no longer felt inclined to nab food, even if places to sleep were still hard to come by. He had yet to tell Toshinori about his home situation… but part of him didn’t want to. What they had was good. He didn’t need to make it more complex.

As Toshinori learned more about Kimera’s quirk and his abilities, the shaggy-haired boy realized that Toshinori was a wealth of knowledge. About U.A., about quirks, about fighting, and especially about becoming a pro-hero. It was a whole world that he hadn’t known existed. Heroes fighting villains before there were casualties. Heroes running agencies with others who were just as intent on protecting innocent lives before they could be ruined. Powerful heroes and fast heroes and all-encompassing, grand heroes. Toshinori told him story after story, showed him fighting moves and revealed a dense history that Kimera knew he would have never been exposed to in Osaka.

Maybe… just maybe… he could become a hero too.

But he was not like Toshinori - or “Toshi,” as Kimera had begun to call him. (It was an improper nickname, but Kimera was unaware of enough formalities that Toshinori didn’t seem bothered.) Toshi was powerful and strong. He had a body that could send villains flying; fists that could put fear into the hearts of even the most villainous individuals. Conversely… Kimera, though healthier, was still thin and wiry. He was built for speed and stealth… Not for power.

“...Will you teach me how to be stronger?” He asked one day as Toshi sat next to him on the beach, their attention focused on the waves reflecting the sunset in the distance. “Will you teach me how I can use my quirk like you use yours?”

Toshinori grinned at him, enthused by the question. “You wanna become a hero, huh?” Kimera knew it was unlikely… he did not go to a hero school. Or a school at all. And from what Toshi had told him, it was a rough road paved with red tape. But surely, it wouldn’t be impossible… would it? Toshi didn’t seem to think so.

“...Yeah,” Kimera replied with a nod and a look of determination. His parents had missed their chance… Kimera didn’t want to.

Toshinori stood, flexing his muscles and giving Kimera a thumbs up. Even if Toshinori was still learning himself… surely, there was something that he could teach Kimera. And the hybrid boy knew that he would have to take advantage of that while he could. Toshi was graduating soon, he’d said. They’d have to make the most of their time.

“Let’s do it.”

Their training sessions began after Toshi had completed his lessons for the day. They’d meet not far from the school and trek down to the beach park. It was an open space and gave them plenty of room to move about without drawing too much unnecessary attention. Kimera would keep an eye out for strangers. If anyone saw Toshi using his quirk outside of the school, he’d said, he’d get in trouble. And so Kimera had agreed to keep it a secret.

Together, they began to hone their abilities. Weeks turned to months, the two becoming fast friends as they exchanged quick attacks and practiced their defenses. Toshinori grew stronger with each passing day, his punches being delivered with heft and power. Kimera knew that whoever his mentor was must have been teaching him well, even if the other boy came to their sessions looking worn out to begin with. Kimera appreciated that he never missed their time together.

But as Toshinori grew, so did Kimera. His teeth were sharper and claws stronger. His tail was a powerful limb which could deliver a painful whip and slap, and his feet carried him faster and farther with precise leaps. He learned quickly, taking advantage of his speed to dart around Toshinori with confidence and accuracy, diving in for hits where he could get them. He knew Toshi could take whatever he delivered with enthusiasm, even if the both of them left their training sessions with fresh bruises and heavy limbs. Toshinori would always smile. It made Kimera’s heart thump happily to see his smile.

His first friend. His only friend. With Toshi guiding him, he knew that he could handle anything.

Maybe I can become even stronger than Toshi, Kimera thought one day as they cooled off in the evening air after a particularly rough training session. He was delightfully unaware of any limits that Toshi had on his own abilities, but he himself would ensure that he never put too deep of a wound on the other, lest they have to stop their sessions because someone became suspicious. I would need to come up with a move that he wouldn’t expect… something… fast and sharp. He’s quick, but he relies more on his strength than anything… I bet I could catch him off guard. The thought settled in his mind. Tired as he was from their time together, he knew he had enough spare energy - now that he was well fed and growing every day - to put just a little extra time in training alone.

I’ll train while Toshi is in school. Then I’ll really surprise him!

When Toshinori’s classes kept him busy, Kimera kept to himself, working to increase his speed and the strength of his teeth and claws. But it wasn’t until he saw a pro-hero on the streets of Yoshida deliver a devastating slashing attack with his quirk that he realized… he could do the same thing. But with a spin!

A literal spin, as it turned out, was just what Kimera needed. By running at a full-tilt and wild speed, he could get enough momentum to tuck into a vicious roll and spiral towards his opponent like a saw blade, mouth agape and claws spread to get a surprise and lightning fast strike on them. One that was sure to give him an advantage.

He practiced on trees, at first. Glancing blows off of them and throwing himself painfully to the ground or against another tree in the process. Aiming himself once he was in the spin was hard. Aiming after he shattered the bark of the tree and ricocheted off of it was even harder. But his hits were doing damage. And he was impressed with his progress, even if he was struggling with accuracy.

Toshi won’t know what hit him!

Kimera kept the secret move to himself for several days, practicing in between his sessions with Toshinori to ensure that he was able to effectively pull it off without it totally taking himself out for the count.

“I want to show you something I’ve been working on!” He said when he finally felt as though he was ready. Finally, he could show Toshinori that their training had been paying off. He could be better. He could be strong and powerful. Just like Toshi was. And he’d prove that being a hero was possible; even for someone like him.

“Lay it on me!” Toshi prompted once they were positioned on opposite ends of the beach as they usually were. Ready for one or the other to launch an offensive attack from which the other would defend. Then they would continue until night fell and exhaustion settled in their limbs. But not today. Today, Kimera was going to start strong.

“Get ready!”

Kimera got his hind feet underneath him, legs bracing tightly before he sprang forward, rushing at Toshinori like a hungry cheetah in a burst of speed. He could see the grin on Toshi’s face as he ran, pride in his gaze at Kimera’s progress. The two had really grown together. Their hard work would pay off.

At his top speed, Kimera tucked into his roll, spiraling wildly towards Toshinori.

It was far too late before the boy realized in a panic that he was out of control. He hadn’t had time to perfect his aim - nor did he truly know how strong he’d gotten. Before he could tuck his claws to ensure that they didn’t do damage, he felt them snag flesh and pull, making contact with Toshinori’s last-second attempt at defending himself. The spinning blade that was Kimera had caught Toshi’s arm, collar-bone, and shoulder, tearing viciously at the skin and showering the sand beneath their feet with blood.

Kimera bounced off of Toshinori and soared into the water, hitting the surface with a loud and painful slap as he slowed and sank beneath the waves. His limbs screamed in pain with the impact, unable to move for a few moments before he could muster up enough effort to get himself above the water where he coughed and sputtered. On the shore, he saw Toshinori rooted to the spot, unmoving, until he toppled over and onto the sand.

“Toshinori!” Kimera cried out, gagging as water flooded into his mouth. Panicked, he struggled to make his way back to shore, finally reaching the shallows where he hacked up another mouthful of water before staggering to where Toshinori lay on the ground, clearly unconscious.

Is he… Is he dead?!

Heart pounding in his chest, Kimera felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The blood he’d torn from Toshinori was absolutely coating the sand around him, the jagged and torn gashes in his flesh exposing muscle and bone where Kimera’s claws had raked them.

“Toshi! Toshinori!” He called, reaching to shake the older boy with vigor to try and get him to come around. But with each movement, Toshinori lost more blood. Moving him would do no good.

From somewhere nearby, he heard a voice, his ear swiveling to catch the words.

“I saw it!” The voice cried. “That boy attacked the other one!”

Wait… Wait, wait… no!

“N-no, I-! I didn’t…!” Kimera yelled back, rising to his feet and looking around in alarm. The voice of the stranger who had pointed him out was not the only one that was ringing in his peripheral. Now more and more strangers were approaching, brought around by the commotion of his and Toshinori’s collision, the sounds of horror at the sight of Toshinori’s unconscious body echoing in Kimera’s ears.

“Somebody call the police!” One voice said. “It’s a villain attack!” Hollered another.

Kimera’s voice was drowned out as he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. They’d come for him! The people really thought that Toshi had been attacked!

Tears ran down Kimera’s face as he glanced at Toshinori. He wasn’t dead… He was alive. They would… they would help him. They would get him somewhere safe. But would they listen to a raggedy hybrid of a boy when he claimed that he had done nothing wrong?

No, he decided. They wouldn’t. Not with all that damage. Not with all that blood. Not when he hadn’t been smart or strong enough to control himself. Not when he had been unable to make Toshinori proud like he wanted to.

“I’m so sorry, Toshi!” Kimera sobbed. But he had no more time. With one last look at his friend’s unconscious form, the boy ran. Before the police could track and follow him. Before the heroes came after him like he was a villain.

Maybe I am, he thought as he ran.

As he disappeared down the beach and into hiding, he knew that it was the last time he’d be able to face Toshinori Yagi.

---

Toshinori recovered, though he remembered very little about what had happened. He was chastised by his mentor for sparring outside of the school grounds, harangued by the police about the identity of the mysterious chimera boy who had injured him, and questioned by his friends about the events of that day.

When he was able to, Toshinori had returned to the beach, hoping to meet Kimera - hoping to meet his friend. And yet, Kimera Togo was nowhere to be found. Even as Toshinori returned for several evenings after he’d recovered. Hoping. Waiting. Kimera did not appear.

Toshinori stopped appearing as his graduation from U.A. ventured closer. And once he was able to do so, he set off for America, and returned as “All Might”. The up and coming pro-hero. The powerful, unstoppable “Symbol of Peace.”

From the streets of the Kansai region where Kimera returned, the boy watching Toshinori… “All Might’s” rise to fame. He’d cut his hair as soon as he could, lest he be recognized as the boy who’d attacked the fledgling hero. His limbs had grown strong, though he was still thin and sleek, much more accustomed to speed than strength. But his power was nothing to sneeze at either.

In Toshinori’s absence, Kimera had come to the realization that he could never be a pro-hero. His upbringing was far too tumultuous, and with his lack of education and the fact that he’d simply left Toshinori there to bleed…

He didn’t deserve the title.

But his power was wasted, if he couldn’t help people. So he admitted that he could do that, at the very least. He didn’t need to be licensed or registered or whatever the hell else pro-heroes needed to prove that they were “allowed” to do good. He could still help others. He could still make amends for what he’d done.

The life of a vigilante was not an easy one. But it was a life. He made enough money under the table to get by, amassing a small number of others who shared his ideals. None of them shone as bright as Toshinori had. None of them could match his enthusiasm or his smile. But he could still call them friends, after enough time had passed. It was easy to attract quirkless others who felt that they were not empowered - not prepared or able to make a difference in a world full of evil villains. Not when pro-heroes existed.

“You can,” Kimera told them when he met them. When he was certain where their hearts lay. “You can make a difference. All you have to do is commit to it.”

With his small following of quirkless sidekicks, he would train them. To recognize danger and respond to it; to alert him of citizens in need of help. To use their own talents, gadgets, and abilities to help protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

His alias came naturally. Working in the cover of night, Kimera often attacked villains without warning and without caution. His vicious, aggressive fighting style was to be feared, as his sidekicks often said. He didn’t bother capturing villains if he found them to be too dangerous. He’d long since abandoned his desire to obey the bureaucracy.

By the time he was forty, the Night Fury had a body count. He was not proud of it. But it was what had to be done. Sometimes, he ruled, villains could not be allowed to live.

Still… he longed for the days of his naivety. When he sparred with Toshinori and they dreamed of bigger things. When he could lose himself in the light of Toshinori’s eyes and know that the world would be safe if he was in it. Watching All Might on the TV… he knew that the man’s macho persona was not his true self. Handsome as he was, Kimera remembered him so differently…

Their paths had diverged, and yet whenever he caught a glimpse of Toshinori in the limelight, he couldn’t help but wonder…

Would I have made you proud?

===

During the Kamino incident, Kimera had fought the inner part of himself that screamed and railed against what he was seeing on the TV. He’d stopped, like the whole country had, to watch All Might put an end to the heinous villain that had decimated the ward and taken so many lives along with him. The League of Villains was in everyone’s mouths… The battle seemed impossible.

But when the world hollered and cheered for All Might as he raised his fist in the air and announced his victory, Kimera could only watch in horror. Toshinori had given his all… he was so damaged. So frail. After decades of his belief that nothing could shatter the man’s ability to persist… something had.

His heart lurched moment after moment, until the crowd had dispersed and Kimera was left to stare at replayed highlights of the battle over and over again.

Toshinori… He thought, fighting tears. I should have been there. I should have been able to be by your side. I should have… I should have…

But he couldn’t turn back the passage of time. And in the following weeks, the only thing he’d been able to think about was Toshinori. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he recovering? How could he carry on, knowing that he was unable to fight? Did he… have a family now?

Does he even remember me?

The thoughts plagued him like a hive of angry bees. It had been decades. Surely, Toshinori… All Might… wouldn’t have thought twice about Kimera in years.

But even as he lurched himself at the villain that had taken over the Katsura River, Toshinori lingered in the back of his mind.

I need to see him.

If there were a record for the fastest time he’d ever taken down a villain, it would be then, when the realization that the aching in his chest wouldn’t subside until he saw Toshinori in the flesh hit him like a ton of bricks. He savagely slashed at the suckerfish villain, rendering him immobile and knocking him unconscious with a swift rabbit-kick to the head. Gripping the suckerfish by his arm, Kimera threw him back at the shark villain that waited in the water, the two colliding painfully. Kimera wasted no time in following up, launching himself in the air towards the water with a burst of speed.

He tucked into his roll - his ultimate move which he’d perfected since its devastating use on Toshinori - and tore through the air, slicing through the shark villain’s gills and sprayed the water with blood as it collapsed into the torrent of waves. He probably wasn’t dead. But he would be out for the count, at least, until the police or pro-heroes could come and mop him up and out of the river.

Kimera, riding the ricochet of his contact with the villain, landed squarely on dry land, satisfied with his work. Those two would likely not return. And he had to get going if he wanted to get to U.A. by morning.

“Harada,” Kimera said into his communicator, listening as the crackle of the line announced that his sidekick had been listening.

“Go ahead.”

“I’m going to Yokohama. I want to figure out what went on in Kamino.”

“Now?! It’s a bit late for investigating.”

“I just have to see it for myself. Can you handle things in the meantime?”

There was a sigh. And then a response.

“Fine. Be careful.”

With that ‘blessing’, Kimera took off. He didn’t need to go as far as Yokohama. But he didn’t need his sidekicks to know what he was really doing either.

If I can just see Toshinori… That’s all I need.

---

They hadn’t lied when they’d said that U.A.’s security had been enhanced. As Kimera hovered nearby, he realized that if he’d tried to steal student snacks now, he’d certainly never get away with it. Absently, he wondered about the students within. From what he knew, they had been through so much…

He was older now, grizzled and aged, but no less strong. As he eyed the walkway that lead up to the gates, he pictured himself and Toshinori; being caught in a headlock as he tried to make off with a stolen lunch. The image in his head almost made him laugh. God… it had been so long.

He’d be a fool now to try and get anywhere near the school, so he kept his distance. He knew Toshinori was a teacher now. So he would have to be around eventually… But for now, he made his way towards the same beach while night had yet to become morning. Where he and Toshinori had often trained.

Where he’d… left Toshi’s bleeding body.

Kimera closed his eyes and tried to shake the memory from his mind. No, he didn’t need to remember that. He could focus on the good things. On the laughing and the friendly conversation. On the shared meals and the evenings spend with one another.

Of Toshinori’s smile…

“...Woah! You’re the Night Fury! Kimera Togo!”

Alarm shot through him as the young voice sounded over his shoulder. Kimera whirled around, teeth bared and scales bristling as he waited to be assaulted, but he was met instead by the face of a young boy. His messy, unkempt hair matched his gaze of wonder as he stared Kimera down. And had it not been for the bandages wrapped around his arms, Kimera might not have recognized him.

Izuku Midoriya. The boy from the sports festival… He thought. A U.A. student. He’d been there during the incident at Kamino too. Saving his classmate. And now he was… here. On the beach. Staring at him as though he’d grown two heads.

“...Keep your voice down, kid!” Kimera hissed when he realized he’d just been identified. It was still night, so he didn’t anticipate others being too close by… But he’d been wrong before. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?”

“Well… I was… meeting someone… But shouldn’t you be in Kyoto?” Midoriya asked, confused.

“I’m on an extended visit. Don’t worry about it.” Kimera didn’t need the third degree from a kid, no matter how freaky strong he was. “Why are you meeting someone in the dead of night??”

“Uh! Well! It’s…! A long story, actually! I was... Um!” The boy began to sputter, waving his arms around in a bit of a panic. Kimera stared at him dully. Kids.

“...Kimera…?”

Another voice startled him, making his ears twitch in instinctive delight. He knew this voice… As if it was acting of its own volition, he felt his heart begin to race, his limbs shaking as he turned to face who he knew was standing there. Staring at him.

Toshinori.

“Kimera… is it really you?”

All Might’s gaze was locked onto Kimera, taken aback and disbelieving. Kimera could only stare back, his own hard green eyes meeting the other man’s stark and bright blue. Even with all of the damage he’d taken… even though his body had been destroyed beyond reason… those eyes…

They hadn’t changed.

He was finding it very hard to breathe, his attention entirely taken from the young Midoriya and locked onto Toshinori’s gaze.

“...Yeah,” he finally managed to get out, his voice trembling.

“It’s me.”

#tj writes #boku no hero academia #oc #bnha sona #I am definitely going to write more of this universe because IT WILL BE GAYER

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mieszkaniowyk · 4 years ago

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hollywoodx4 · 8 years ago

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Sticking With the Schuylers (27)

Sundays are for brunch. Brunch has a lot of predetermined social rules. You are to be polite, restrained. There are to be no emotional outbursts during brunch, due to fear of embarrassing your company. Sundays are for brunch.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 I 13 14 15 16 17 18A 18B 18C I 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Alexander wakes to warmth on his eyes and a restful body; soothed not by the couch he had fallen asleep on but by the company he’d had. He squints against sunlight seeping through blinds that are not his own, curtains still drawn back from the window. It’s the first time he’s been woken by the sun in while; usually he sleeps with the darkness accompanying closed blinds and blackout curtains. He’d craved the darkness-when he did sleep, that is. But the sunshine is not an unwelcome guest, rather Alexander stretches himself out like a cat in the grass, blissful as the warmth takes over.

Lately, there has been nothing but warmth-the sun-in his life. The golden color filters through the room as the lens that has taken him over; casting optimism on shadowed days, finding opportunity within the simplest of mishaps. There, in that gilded, dream-like state, Alexander is awash with memories of the night before-reminders of the decision he had made. Her lips on his, the feeling of her fingers tracing delicate lines along him, their conversation afterwards…their time plays over on a constant loop that sets an eagerness within him.

Alexander sighs, sitting up on the couch and running a hand through his hair. Casting a glance around him it’s not hard to spot Eliza. She stirs about the kitchen with airy movements, light and free. It’s a sort of dance, the way she moves from cabinet to fridge and back again in her task. And he’s enraptured by it, the simplicity of it all. He notices almost immediately the piece of clothing that hangs over her frame-a grey sweater favored in his closet, and by her when he wears it. She sports black leggings and boots along with it, casual as opposed to her usual style. But its singular black button, the way she has the sleeves rolled at their end to fit her arms…the single sight of her in his favorite sweater is enough to stir him from the couch. Alexander crosses the apartment seemingly unnoticed by his girlfriend, who is humming a light, bouncy tune as she flits across the room.

“Is that coffee?”

“Yes, it is.” He moves to wrap his arms around her, to pause her in her tracks for just a moment. She dodges his embrace, sneaking underneath his arm and turning to hug him quickly instead. “The rest of it is gone-John said you drink too much and I agree. So I may or may not have hidden it.”

“Day one and you’ve already hidden my coffee? I might regret this.”

“Backing out on me already?”

“Never.” She pours him a cup and kisses his lips, passing the steaming liquid over before collecting herself once more. “I’m super late, Paul’s been waiting downstairs for at least twenty minutes.”

“I’m surprised he even drives you anymore.”

“It’s your fault. Really, they should be lucky I’m even going at all.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Eliza smirks, eyes glistening with a hint of mischief as she brings herself to him for an extended brush of her lips on his, her hands on either side of his face; to prove to him the point that is so blatantly etched to her features.

“I think you know why.” She crosses the apartment to where her keys hang by the door, looking over her shoulder once more with a disappointed demeanor. “Sorry I have to abandon you-brunch calls. You could come with me…”

“Not this time.”

“Alright, just thought I’d ask one more time. You’ll consider it, though, right? Soon?”

“Soon.”

Eliza runs back to meet him in the middle of the kitchen one last time, grabbing his hand and kissing him once, twice, three times before finally pulling herself away. She watches Alexander as she backs out the door, the way he waves at her from the kitchen, still in sweatpants and bare chested, sipping his coffee. It all seems so natural, so right, that she nearly considers stopping and heading back, skipping brunch altogether. But then the probable onslaught of words that will come to Eliza for being late would double for her skipping the event, sacrilegious behavior considered nothing but a blatant disregard for her family. That, especially since the excuse of coffee and a bare-chested Alexander would hardly sit well with her father. So instead Eliza waves at Alexander one more time, I love you sweet and tranquil from her lips as she finally forces herself to leave the apartment.

She should have stayed home.

There’s a feeling deep within herself that she attempts to push away; anxiety? Stress? Either way she pushes her way into Angelica’s bedroom within the Schuyler mansion with a façade of a smile, breathlessly apologizing for being late while setting herself up at the vanity next to her oldest sister. Angelica looks over at her and smiles, nodding. From behind her Peggy’s sat forward in her chair, face coming from behind Angelica’s body with a wide smile. Her phone is in her hand but it is turned the other way as she whispers, just loud enough for both of her sisters to understand the words.

“Is that Alex’s?”

Eliza nods before looking down at herself, flushing red before burrowing herself deeper into the clothing’s warm fabric; closer to the scent that envelopes her with security. Peggy bounces in her chair before collecting herself again, turning the camera to her middle sister.

“Look who finally decided to show up.”

“I know, I know. I overslept-what can you do?” Eliza attempts to drop the subject at that, waving to Peggy’s phone before turning back to the vanity, getting into the music with Angelica. Her older sister has been unchanged, barely noticing Eliza’s presence as she finishes her makeup and steps away from the vanity. Peggy’s look is nowhere near done; she’s been pestering them with her livestream, asking question after question while her older sisters get ready.

“We don’t need to ask her that…no, we’re leaving it alone…” Finally, The youngest Schuyler sighs, wheeling around in her chair to aim the camera at Eliza. From behind it her eyes are apologetic, yet there is a glint of mischief typically accompanying herself that can’t be ignored-or hidden, for that matter.

“Sorry, E. They want to know if that sweater is ‘Mystery Man’s.’”

“Let me see that.” Eliza takes the phone from her sister’s hands, adjusting it so that the camera is facing herself as she reads through the comments.

“It is, but that’s all you’re getting.” Response after response flies in from the bottom of the screen, and although she has a hard time keeping up the mix of heart-eyed emojis and all capital letters gives her a gist of what is being said.

“No, no you can’t see a picture. Some day, when we’re both ready, but that’s a conversation that Al-that ‘mystery man’ and I need to have first. That would be a total invasion of his privacy.” Another slew of comments leads her to put her hand on her head, Peggy bounding back across the room to read over her shoulder before dissolving into a fit of laughter. They range from anywhere to upset over the lack of details to making up their own, stories that turn Eliza’s cheeks red and cause her to shove the phone back into her little sister’s hands.

“And that’s enough from me for today, brunch is waiting for us.”

“We’ll see you on the other side.” Peggy closes the app and puts her phone back on the vanity before shooting Eliza a quizzical stare. Her middle sister does not respond, however, seemingly suddenly very interested in the process of pulling her dress from its bag. Neither sister says anything, merely drops the subject as they leave the house for brunch.

The chilly weather of early December has finally, reluctantly brought the brunch plans inside for the remainder of the long winter season. They’ve relocated today, on the other side of Central Park to the Russian Tea room. The place itself is not at all their style; the deep reds and lush furnishings are much unlike the typical sleek, decadent yet modern style of the Waldorf. Stepping into the event room Eliza immediately feels as though they’ve been transformed to a different time and place altogether.

The room is both lengthy and narrow, stretches of circular tables fit neatly on either side of a long walkway not dissimilar in feel to a catwalk. There are already what looks like hundreds of people here, milling around with drinks in hand. Floor to ceiling mirrors adorn each long wall, magnificent arches at their tops. And on each mirror is a frosted depiction of two bears, in the style of Russian folklore, each in a different pose. The reflection of the multitude of guests within those mirrors makes the room feel twice as large-twice as crowded. Eliza moves to link arms with her sisters and they trail behind their parents, who seem to be taking in the scenery with such transported wonderment as their own.

“I think it’s tacky.” Peggy whispers under her breath, and her sisters stifle their laughter as their father turns back to them, a warning glance aimed toward the youngest and least filtered of the group. She straightens her posture immediately, ducking her head in apology. But when Phillip turns around the sisters share a smile, the youngest rolling her eyes as a lighthearted smile crosses her softened features.

Their table is in the middle of the crowd, situated next to a table full of doctors and a frosted depiction of two bears juggling perfectly rounded balls. Phillip removes his suit jacket, draping it neatly over his assigned chair before holding his arm out for Catherine. The girls watch as their mother continues to scan the scene in front of them, nodding before pulling herself into the perfect façade of cool comfort and effortless beauty. She walks alongside their father, chocolate colored hair swinging in its tightly arranged ponytail.

This leaves their daughters at their table, looking down at gaudily decorated placeholders. Their names adorn small red boxes in curled golden lettering, standing out against the rounded white plates and tablecloths they’re lain upon. Peggy opens hers swiftly, looking up at her sisters in delight upon finding three small French pastries. The macarons-one red, one white, and one dusted with a golden shine, are arranged appealingly above a layer of soft golden tulle

“Think we’ll need these later?” Peggy tucks the box immediately into her purse, raising her eyebrows at her sisters. Eliza looks around at the crowd; in front of them, behind them, surrounding them at every angle. There is so much going on that her focus has dwindled merely to that task, the looking, so much so that she barely hears Angelica chiding Peggy for stuffing the first macaron in her mouth, unable to wait. Eliza’s feet shift uncomfortably in her heels, her fingers finding the hem of her dress. There is a wall of noise-a tunnel-that they have seemed to find themselves in within the middle of the hall.

She scans the walls, searching through bright red paint and golden chandeliers for each possible exit held by the room. There aren’t many by their table-only one a few spaces down, near a table of immensely aged men which seems to lead to more of a bathroom or kitchen than an outer room. No, the two brightly lit escape signs are on either side of the great hall, in the same extensive walking distance from them. Eliza feels the immediate need to move, to get closer to one of the beacons.

“Let’s look around-there’s bound to be someone we know here, it seems like all of New York really needs to support the hungry.”

“That, or they’re just here for the pictures.”

“Peggy!” Angelica leads them through the room, stopping to chastise her bobbed-haired sister with her usual lowered brows and rolled eyes. “Filter.”

“What? You really think a bunch of old white men really care about New York’s starving population more than the Jets game that’s on later? Why else do you think these things conveniently end just in time to get home for kickoff?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The oldest Schuyler shakes her head, an air of grace and unbridled confidence having crossed over her without so much as a thought of effort. These events come easily for Angelica, who has lived the lowest ratio of her life within these particularly trying events. Her experience seems to come naturally, her ease of sophisticated conversation. “We have to pretend that we’re not aware of their disinterest. It works easier that way.”

Eliza, who has been particularly distant, suddenly feels herself pulling on Angelica’s arm. Looking over her older and younger sister have stopped frozen in their tracks, in front of a table with only two occupants seeming to be as disinterested in socialization of the event. Angelica pulls on her, then, grip tightening as Peggy switches positions to be on her other side. Angelica turns them around, then, Eliza practically dragging along with them as their pace becomes as hastened as it can be without turning a curious eye.

“Unbelievable.” The oldest Schuyler mutters under her breath, expression hardened and cold. Peggy’s head turns back to the crowd behind them, contained mass of curls brushing Eliza’s cheek with their proximity. All she can do is follow, bewildered, as her sisters drag her the opposite way through the throng of people.

“This is so typical. Why would anybody have ever underestimated that asshole?”

“Angelica, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, okay? We’re just going to walk, and keep to ourselves.”

It takes Eliza a moment to comprehend what is going on. Between hushed conversations and their use of underlying context her already muddled mind finds nothing but confusion. The room around her is full, the air thick and filled with voices that sink into the gaudily patterned carpeting. Eliza keeps her eyes trained on it, attempting to tune her ears to their private conversation. It isn’t until a pair of slick black loafers cross her path that she knows exactly what is happening. It’s too late to prepare herself, too late to duck away. It’s a small ring of etched circles upon the top of the shoe that gives him away, just below the thin black shoelaces tied in perfect knots. She’s immediately consumed with the smell of worn leather, of shoe polish that stayed in her nose for weeks after preening; of doting on him and receiving only a half-hearted thanks along with the request of something more from her.

For a moment Elizabeth considers keeping her eyes cast on those shoes; on the carpeting whose pattern has only multiplied her sudden nausea. But the thought of him weighs heavily on her mind. When she lifts her head a switch has gone off, causing her to look directly into his eyes. There are thoughts of him, memories that come barreling through her mind all at once. The assault is nothing to her sudden change in demeanor. She’s not sure what has caused her boiling blood, the incessant surge of confidence that stiffens her joints and sets a hand on her hip. But once Elizabeth Schuyler has caught his eyes she refuses to look away. That would be too easy, too much. Instead she holds them in hers, willing the fire within herself to course its way through her outer expression.

“James.” She greets him with the same docile, honeyed voice she had used that summer in the Hamptons, a slight turn of her lip the only other mention of brightness within her. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, just a love for service. You look beautiful as ever, sweetheart.”

He reaches out a hand for her to hold but Angelica swiftly pulls her back, stepping slightly in front of her with crossed arms and a hardened stare. She glances around the room, examining the crowd for the possibility of a nosy passerby before her low, growl-like tone takes over.

“I’m sure you’re just dying to help the homeless, Reynolds.”

“Angelica, it’s been a long time.”

“Save the pleasantries for somebody who actually wants to breathe the same air as you.” She swats away his outstretched hand, fighting back the immediate urge her body has to inflict more harm than a small slap would. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around now. You’ve done enough harm in my sister’s life, and she’s very clearly doing just fine without you.”

“I’ve seen. I’m not immune to the world of Page 6, clearly.” His eyes move back to Eliza, whose posture is still tall, eyes trained on him without so much of a frown. A smirk plays on James’s features, then, one freckle-dusted cheek lifting with the sardonic humor of his inner mind. “A man bun, Elizabeth, really you could do much better than that. You have done much better than that.”

“You leave him out of this.”

“Oh, we’re getting testy, then.”

“Go away, James. She’s clearly much happier without you.”

“For now.”

“I swear to you, if you so much as come within an inch of my sister,” A hand on her shoulder interrupts Angelica’s low-voiced tirade and her posture immediately straightens. She turns to face their new company, a lifelong friend of their father’s. All three sisters wear matching smiles, as if the conversation they’d just been turned away from hadn’t taken place at all. James looks upon the opportunity-the distinguished senator that has turned their attention, and grabs hold of Elizabeth’s hand.

“Sorry to interrupt, I’ll just be going then.” James gives each of the sisters a sly smile in turn, saving Eliza for last. He lets his eyes linger on her just a bit longer, reading her confident façade with an ability to easily tear it from her one shrewd and searching expression. To the public-to the few intrusive eyes that had been watching the silent exchange, James Reynolds presented himself as a perfectly put together gentleman. Elizabeth felt the severity of his miniscule actions; his grip on her hand turning her knuckles white, his grin lifted too far to one side, his proximity gaining on her personal space with an ease of familiarity. He brings her hand to his lips, knowing full well the predetermined rules that these events carry with them. No outbursts. No refusals.

He leaves her with a smirk painted on his face, the dapper swagger of a person who has gotten exactly what he has wanted; a start, an in. A chance to see Elizabeth Schuyler again. But there is something more that lingers within James. He looks back just as the beautiful brunette lets her confidence waver and her walls fall the moment he leaves, attempting to nod along with the conversation at hand as her breathing quickens. He can just see the outline of her dress move along her shoulders, her hands quaking by her sides. He stops at a table of local government officials, leaning over the table with one leg crossed over the other, a wolf’s smile within his dapper clothing.

To see her again, that wasn’t enough. Her beauty, her magic, had only just struck the match within himself. He wanted more. He needed more. She was never intended for someone else’s sweatshirts or flushed cheeks initiated by another. No, Elizabeth Schuyler was meant for him, and the incorrigible repetition of her name in his mind only heightened that awareness. James would fix this; turn things back into the order they were meant to be in.

#hamilton #hamilton au #hamliza au #hamliza #but have you ever seen pictures of the russian tea room because #good god is it gaudy as hell #i love elizabeth schuyler #tw: abusive relationship

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kilieit · 8 years ago

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lore book transcription: voidsent

for a poster on the RPC

I picked out passages from various sections that seemed relevant; apologies if I missed anything

Also there are, like, four pages of voidsent creatures in the Bestiary, I’m not transcribing all of them (sorry) but I’ll provide a list of their names in tiers and you can send me an ask if you want a specific creature’s profile. If someone offers you scans, they’re on pages 297 through 300.

...except Cuchulainn; I’ll transcribe him. You’ll see why.

Basic Aetherology - Life and Aether [ref: 008]

Within all beings - whether it be man, animal, or even plant - does aether flow. It is the spark which grants life to the lifeless. Conversely, death can be said to occur once aether has left a corporeal object. From this it is clear to see why many scholars use the words “life” and “aether” interchangeably. It can be assumed that a young man of sound mind and body will possess a high concentration of aetherial energy in his humours, whereas an older man, or one inflicted with corruption, will not. Some scholars have expanded on this hypothesis saying that the consumption of food serves not only to feed the belly, but to provide the body with aether lost through exertion.

Aether is not by any means static. It constantly flows through creation, forming currents through earth, water, and air which ensure that life is sustained throughout the world. The stoppage of these currents would be akin to the atrophication of a limb cut off from the heart. Aether is the lifeblood of Hydaelyn, and without it She - and Her children - would perish.

History - Victory in Meracydia [ref: 027]

[...]

In a breakthrough by the [Allagan] imperial mages, communion with voidsent was achieved, ultimately culminating in the signing of a pact between Emperor Xande and the self-proclaimed “ruler” of the void, the Cloud of Darkness. In exchange for an unlimited supply of vessels which would house the minions of the void, allowing them to remain in the corporeal realm, the emperor merely demanded that the voidsent fight for him on the shores of Meracydia. With each enemy slain, a new vessel would become available, allowing for the immediate summoning of a host and subsequent possession of the body. The more the undead army killed, the larger their ranks swelled, until not even the mighty Bahamut reborn could overcome their numbers.

[...]

History - Voidmagicks [ref: 031]

Although the Mhachi were known as masters of black magic, the extent of their powers was not limited to Shatotto’s school of spellcraft. Toward the autumn years of the Fifth Astral Era, the civilisation had begun perfecting voidmagicks - the summoning and manipulation of creatures known as “voidsent” from beyond the corporeal realm.

A report by the scholars of the Nominated Observers of Artifacts Historical defines the “void” as “An otherworld parallel to the one in which man dwells. Abnormal events can weaken the veil between world,s tearing it asunder and allowing the voidsent to invade the material realm. These fiends have a depraved appetite, and seek our world merely to consume the aether it contains, allowing neither beast nor man to stand in their way.”

The mages of the Allagan Empire had previously experimented in forging covenants with the demons of the void in hopes of harnessing the creatures’ powers. The Mhachi expanded on this endeavour, adding extra protections to their experiments so as not to invite the same fate that befell the Allagans. To this end, the mages developed an occult device - the Nullstone - to preserve themselves and their city should a pact be broken. If a summoned voidsent refused to obey the master, a voidmage could smite the feral being using the Nullstone to sever its ties to the corporeal realm. It was in mastering this power that Mhachi came to believe in their civilisation’s supremacy over all others, eventually driving them into war.

Powerful voidsent were brought to heel via the Nullstone, reducing them to naught more than strategic weapons for the Mhachi military. A mage by the name of Calofisteri combined the power of an aether-infused crystal with the ritual consumption of voidsent blood to achieve a twisted form of immortality, that she might guard this artefact from those who might seek to destroy it.

Creatures categorised in the upper rungs of the twelve-tiered voidsent hierarchy cannot pass through dimensional borders by way of an artificial tear. They instead require a willing vessel from the corporeal side, possessing their soul and entering the world by way of a “summoning”. The Nullstone has the capability to destroy that vessel and nullify the pact between it and the summoner, making it a powerful tool in maintaining control over even the most powerful of voidsent.

History - The Nymian Plague [ref: 033]

[...]

It was not until it was too late that Nymian scholars discovered the amphora to be part of an elaborate Mhachi plan that would see the unleashing of Bitoso - a pestilence-carrying voidsent summoned to Eorzea for the sole purpose of decimating the Nymian population.

Those who contracted the voidsent’s disease experienced disfiguring symptoms - their nose and ears melted away, their limbs shriveled, and their flesh turned a ghastly shade of green.

[...]

The Ascians - Igeyorhm [ref: 213]

“For the glory of Lord Zodiark!”

In the Thirteenth, Igeyorhm’s power proved too much for the inexperienced Bringer of Light and their one-sided battles eventually resulted in a Flood of Darkness consuming the entire world and rendering it a nigh-empty void. What life remained quickly atrophied into aether-starved monsters relegated to fighting amongst themselves for dominion over their corrupted realm. Void of its aether, the Thirteenth could no longer be rejoined with Hydaelyn, ultimately losing its value to the Ascians. After fleeing to the Source, Igeyorhm sought redemption for her failure by enacting Lahabrea’s will. [...]

Bestiary - Voidsent [ref: 296]

“The creature is not born of this land, but cometh otherwhence, yet fro whethen it came, men wot knot, and voidsent it is thus ycleped.” - Frandelont Raimdelle

Prior to its discovery as an actual existing realm parallel to ours, the void was simply an imagined place that ignorant peoples used as a convenient answer to questions they were unable to answer. Whither comes the unknown beast? The void. What causes the moons to wane? The void. However, it has since been proven to be a realm not dissimilar to ours, albiet one devoid of light, a trait that has given rise to terrible creatures - creatures who will stop at nothing to invade our realm and sup on our life-giving aether.

Bestiary - The Properties of the Void and Voidsent [ref: 296]

If recent treatises penned by the Scions of the Seventh Dawn are to be believed, Hydaelyn may be more than a realm created and ruled by a pantheon of Twelve, but also the embodiment of two sentient beings - the eponymous “Mother” of our world and Her antithesis, Zodiark, and that it is a conflict between these two that resulted in the void’s creation. Hydaelyn - will of Light - sensing treachery at the hands of Zodiark - will of Darkness - banished Her twin, sealing Him deep within the moon. This excision of Light from Darkness, however, left a wound in the aether, splitting the corporeal plane from the “Source” into ten and three mirrored “reflections” which, while identical upon their formation, saw separate and unique evolutions.

A successful foray into the void by members of an expeditionary party known as the “fellowship of NOAH” revealed the realm to be a dark vacuum lacking any and all traces of aether, but possessing traits that suggest it may once have been teeming with life. The Scions expand on these observations, explaining that the void is actually one of Hydaelyn’s reflections from which all light was struck following a “Flood of Darkness”. Stripped of balance between Light and Darkness, ambient aether could no longer exist, leaving a realm “void” of life energy. Without the aether required for survival, the realm’s denizens grew twisted of mind and body, eventually devolving into what we now know as voidsent.

Bestiary - Summoning Voidsent [ref: 296]

Though one could walk a thousand malms and never reach the other, the void and the Source lie but a hair’s breadth apart, separated by an unseen veil serving to prevent travel between the two worlds. This veil, however, is not absolute, and with the right amount of aetherial force can be torn to create temporary gateways - gateways to which aether-starved voidsent are drawn, sensing the life energies of our realm. Naturally occurring rents are typically minor, allowing only the smallest and weakest of voidsent through before the wound heals. However in the years leading up to and following the Calamity, the barrier between the two planes has grown weak, resulting in larger and more frequently tears and thusly stronger intruders.

Recognising the power that lies in this dark realm, mankind has developed methods of creating artificial rents and therefrom summoning voidsent, binding the beings into service with precarious bloodpacts. In the Third Astral Era, the emperor Xande sought to enter a covenant with the Cloud of Darkness that he might utilise her power in the conquering of the world. Taking cue from the Allagans, mages of Fifth Astral Era Mhach summoned voidsent into Eorzea not only to fight their wars, but to power their creations... an endeavour that ultimately met with disastrous results. Since then, void summoning has fallen out of fashion, being deemed both dangerous and harmful to the world’s aetherial balance. Natheless, this has not prevented cultists from dabbling i nthe deadly art - their achievements finding immortality in forbidden tomes such as the Necrologos.

Voidsent summoning is oft conducted using one of two methods. The first entails the opening of a voidgate - a rent in the veil large enough for most of the realm’s denizens to pass through. However, casting a spell capable not only of opening a hole of sufficient size, but sustaining it for any duration is costly, requiring massive amounts of aether. The second is far more aether-efficient, requiring but a small hole through which the soul or essence of a voidsent passes. The soul will then possess a “vessel” provided by the summoner - the drawback of this method being that, the stronger the voidsent summoned, the more powerful the vessel required to contain the soul.

Bestiary - The Voidal Heirarchy [ref: 296 - 300]

Using knowledge gathered from folklore, encoutners, and actual summonings, scholars of the void have taken to categorising the creatures into one of twelve rungs representing relative strength and intelligence - the lower the number, the more formidable the voidsent in relation to others. These ranks by no means have bearing on a creature’s actual standing within the void, and merely serve to help Eorzeans better understand these mysterious and violent visitors.

Cuchulainn

One theory places the void’s formation in the hands of champions such as Cuchulainn who wielded a stone known as “auracite” to conquer their plane’s primals. The weapon, however, possessed a fatal imperfection: a propensity to bleed primal energies. With each victory, the heroes changed, transforming at last into fiends of endless appetite. Insatiable in their hunger for aether, they ultimately went to war over the star’s ever-dwindling life force. It was during this war that the Flood of Darkness was unleashed.

Rung 1

Cloud of Darkness

Rung 2

Rung 3

Feridad - Succubus - Forgall - Arachne

Rung 4

Arch Demon - Ahriman - Succubus - Dahaka - Blackguard

Rung 5

Anchag - Arioch - Ahriman - Troubador

Rung 6

Soulflayer - Bitoso - Boogyman

Rung 7

Taurus

Rung 8

Persona - Parthenope

Rung 9

Vodoriga - Ogre - Page 64 - Hellhound

Rung 10

Flan - Hecteyes

Rung 11

Imp - Gaelicat - Bomb

Rung 12

Gnat - Deepeye

"Low Rank”

Gremlin

“Middling Rank”

Demon - Gargoyle

“Higher Rank”

Echidna

(No Rank Given)

Mimic - Byblos - Void Monk - Atomos - Sawtooth / Irminsul - Cuchulainn - Diabolos

Bestiary - Chimeras [ref: 303]

[Transcriber’s note: I will include here only the profiles of voidal chimeras.]

Naga

The naga is a sizeable scalekin-like creature, large enough to swallow an entire phurble. Originally thought to be native to the eastern continent of Othard, naturalists now know that the aberrations are actually chimeras pieced together in a Third Astral Era laboratorium from the limbs of voidsent summoned to this realm by godless Allagan aetherochemists. Records claim that they created the naga for no other reason than to discern whether such grafting and splicing of voidal flesh was, in fact, possible.

Empuse

Using knowledge gained in the creation of the naga, Allagan aetherochemists ultimately succeeded in cloning flesh that, for all intents and purposes, was identical to that from creatures of the void despite being grown entirely on this plane. This flesh was subsequently provided to the imperial army whose weapons division scientists fused it with antling tissue, creating what they believed to be the perfect infantry soldier.

#lore book #best of

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moontrinemars · 8 years ago

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Houses in Fantastic Beasts, and Where To Find Them: Part Two

To begin, we take note of the general, relevent information we’re given on Jacob Kowalski and his life. As a child he immigrated to America with his family from Poland, and shows that his family has a very strong influence on him. A veteran of the World War, we first meet Jacob during his meeting with a loan officer, hoping to find funds for his bakery--a meeting that fails, and instead gets him mixed up in the hijinks of the Wizarding World. A large amount of the things that happen to him seem to be accidental and happenstance while the rest seem to be spurred by his relationships to those unlike him. His life is orbited by chaos, accidents, differences, opposites, and family history.

The houses that these particular themes invoke are the 4th (family, home, history), 7th (reflection, partnership, cooperation), 11th (innovation, communities, causes), and 12th (neglect, underdevelopment, paradox). The least likely of these would be the 4th, in my opinion. While family has obviously played a large role in his life, solar natives of the 4th house tend have their lives affected by home life and domestic situations more so than Jacob’s is. In fact, Jacob is shown to be so involved in situations that are foreign to him, and dissimilar to his childhood/past, that the we can pretty much immediately rule it out. Similarly, I think we can rule out the 12th house, as this placement tends to separate the individual from the self, resulting in many an inability to form a perception of themselves, or at least a decent amount of vagueness in the image that they accept. With Jacob Kowalski’s self-conscious dialogue and way of moving, this obviously can’t be applied. This leaves us with the final two: the 7th house, and the 11th house. While the 11th house may not be the most obvious option, we do see Jacob’s easy ability to attract friends, and communities. (You will not be able to convince me that Tina and Newt would’ve recruited one another to their causes if not for him (and Queenie).) We also see how easily he adjusts to new changes, and grows to love cultures different to his own. He shows an ability to build and transition between communities that is very typical of an 11th house sun. However, the 7th house is also an accurate fit, as while marriage and romantic relationships are often associated with this house, it is the reflection of what the self does not provide but needs that this house is based in. While this may be a romantic relationship with a complimentary partner in many cases, and may be applied to Jacob as well, this can be stretched further to apply to all areas of life. And for Jacob, this means the introduction to the Wizarding World, his friendship with Newt, and the establishment of his bakery. In order to choose the house best suited, we identify their key differences. The 7th house suggests cooperation, projection, negotiation, and one to one relationships, whereas the 11th house typically implies rebellion, leadership, ideology, and universal connection. When put in these terms, it is clear that the placement best suited for Jacob Kowalski is a 7th House Sun.

Now, we move on to Queenie Goldstein. Queenie’s complexity limits the options considerably. Due to her psychic abilities, she is a magnet for intimacy, as well as the secrets of others. However the events that seem to affect her behavior the most are ones concerning trust, family, privacy, and her home.

With this, we can identify the most suitable houses as the 4th (family, home, history) and the 8th (intimacy, rebirth, the taboo). The difficulty in discerning which is suited to Queenie is in how both might result in her character presentation. A 4th house placement for any planet swaddles that planet’s domain in privacy, and in the case of the sun, it often keeps the person’s true identity and personality reserved from all but the people, places, and things which represent home to the individual. An 8th house placement makes the person’s identity ever-changing, as they constantly transform themselves into new beings based on the situation and environment they’re in. It also wraps their true character in secrecy, the same way taboo topics and intimate matters are kept secret. Another key part of Queenie’s character is also her shared past with Tina: the death of their parents and subsequently, the responsiblity for each other they assumed. The change in familial structure being so impactful, and leading to the living situation we witness in the movie, would heavily suggest the effects of family on a solar 4th House. However, the 8th house is as strong of a contender, as it is the death of her parents, that leads to her close intimacy with her sister, and, as could be inferred, a new identity for Queenie. Furthermore, while the 4th house placement may be supported by the demonstration of Queenie’s interest in domestic work and her taking on a homemaker role (as opposed to Tina’s as the ambitious working woman), the 8th house is the placement most often associated with psychic abilities, and intimate understanding of the way people work. At this point, analysis comes to fall more on personal interpretation. While the 4th house placement can make for a very strong argument, the 8th house appeals to me more. Every choice that Queenie makes seems to hint at something deeper to her than the audience is expecting. From the way she ropes Newt into remaining in the apartment, without coming across as forceful or manipulative, to the ease with which she switches tactics when convincing Sam to release Jacob into her custody, Queenie strikes me as a healthy 8th House Sun whose empathy for others and positive attitude buoys her through any misunderstandings and turmoil attracted by this placement. However, if the 4th House sun explanations suit your image of her more, this is just as valid a reading.

Remember that these houses have limited influence. The Solar house tends to dictate major themes in life, the events that affect a person’s character, and the key aspects to a person’s identity/behavior. However this doesn’t mean that these things fulfill/affect the character emotionally (moon), or that they incite the most passion in them (mars), or anything else ruled by a different planet. [Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein]

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ncmagroup · 5 years ago

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Einstein

21 Behaviors That Will Make You Brilliant at Creativity & Relationships

Benjamin Hardy, PhD

When you see things from multiple perspectives, you realize you can achieve almost anything you want in far less time than you imagined.

Yet most people have fixed and limited views about themselves and what they can accomplish.

They have fixed and limited views about the resources available to them.

They have fixed and limited views about time, and how long things must take to accomplish.

In this article, I squash all of those limiting perspectives and provide concrete strategies you can use to achieve your goals. There are no fixed limits.

Here’s how it works:

Core Principles

1. Set absurdly ambitious goals

“When 10x is your measuring stick, you immediately see how you can bypass what everyone else is doing.” — Dan Sullivan

Goals are most likely to be accomplished when:

They are intrinsically motivating. As Napoleon Hill explained in Think and Grow Rich, “Desire is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire which transcends everything.”

They must be difficult, or else they won’t be motivating.

They must be time-bound, to create a sense of urgency. Shorter timelines are one way to go 10x since they force you to shed artificial constraints and think more creatively. As billionaire Peter Thiel is known to ask: “How can you achieve your ten-year plan in the next six months?”

As with all things in life, you get what you want. If you prefer to make excuses and justifications for a lack of progress, then just admit you prefer your current station in life. Self-acceptance can be a beautiful thing.

However, once you desire progress more than convenience, obstacles no longer stop but propel you. As the Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius is famous for saying, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”

2. Reframe subconscious patterns and get bold insights via auto-suggestion

“What is impressed in the subconscious is expressed.” — Dr. Joseph Murphy in The Power of Your Subconscious Mind

While awake, your conscious and subconscious mind is often at odds with each other. For example, you’re trying to be positive, but your subconscious patterns simply won’t let you.

Yet, while transitioning from being awake to being asleep, your brain waves move from the active Beta state into Alpha and then Theta before eventually dropping into Delta as we sleep. It is during the Theta window that your mind is most receptive to reshaping your subconscious patterns. Hence, Thomas Edison is known for having said, “Never go to sleep without a request to your subconscious.”

As a result, just before you fall asleep, it is key to visualize and even vocally state what you are trying to accomplish. When you repeatedly state a desired goal, visualization is key because you want to have as emotional an experience as possible. You need to feel what it would be like to have what you seek.

You can absolutely trust that by planting these subconscious seeds, thoughts will pop up at you, often at random intervals. You need to record these thoughts throughout your day. The bigger the goal, the bolder will be the required action to attain it. The clearer your why the more inspired will be your how.

If you’re serious, you’ll need to act immediately upon the impressions your subconscious is transmitting to your conscious mind. If you brush off these insights, you’ll get less and less of them. You’ll demonstrate to yourself and the source of your inspiration that you don’t really want the changes you claim to desire.

3. Learn and work in counterintuitive environments

1905 was Albert Einstein’s breakthrough year where he published four research articles, known as the Annus Mirabilis papers, which went on to substantially alter the foundation of modern physics and changed views on space, time, and matter.

Interestingly, when Einstein published these papers, he was not working in an academic setting, but rather at the Swiss Patent Office. His work in this counterintuitive work environment allowed him different reflective angles and questions than a typical physics lab.

As Elon Musk’s wife, Justine, has said:

“Choose one thing and become a master of it. Choose a second thing and become a master of that. When you become a master of two worlds (say, engineering and business), you can bring them together in a way that will a) introduce hot ideas to each other, so they can have idea sex and make idea babies that no one has seen before and b) create a competitive advantage because you can move between worlds, speak both languages, connect the tribes, mash the elements to spark fresh creative insight until you wake up with the epiphany that changes your life.”

When you work in a different context from the majority of people in your field, you can make distinct and unique connections. You can integrate and cross-pollinate different ideas. You can avoid dogmatic thinking and expectations. You can learn to integrate ideas from seemingly dissimilar fields.

4. Learn from counterintuitive resources

“What does following in the footsteps of everyone else get you? It gets you to exactly the same conclusions as everyone else.” — Ryan Holiday

As Holiday explains, if you read what everyone else is reading, you’ll think like everyone else thinks. If you think like everyone else thinks, you won’t be able to come up with anything unique.

Follow your curiosity. Chase down obscure leads. Find stuff that no one else has found. In this way, your work will be truly valuable to others.

5. Focus on the process (not results) of those who are succeeding big

“Success leaves clues.” — Jim Rohn

Focusing exclusively on results is one of the primary reasons the current academic system is broken. Kids are being taught to train for the test, rather than seeking novel and unique ways of doing things. No two kids are wired the same, nor should their contribution, creativity, and talent be viewed from the same standard.

When you want to develop expertise at something, rather than focusing on the results of those at the top of your field, study and emulate their process.

What are they doing?

Once you get process-oriented, as opposed to results-oriented, you realize you too can achieve amazing results. The process, or your behavior, is completely within your control. Conversely, when you focus solely on other people’s results, you can quickly become overwhelmed and give up.

6. Ignore what almost everyone else is doing

In the book Relentless: From Good to Great to Unstoppable, Tim Grover explains that the world’s elite doesn’t compete with other people. Rather, they make others compete with them. They set the tone and make others react to their environment.

Most people are competing with other people. They continuously check-in to see what others in their space (their “competition”) are doing. As a result, they mimic and copy what’s “working.”

Rather than worrying about what others are doing, live your values. Put first things first. Spend more time with your loved ones and away from work. While working, follow your own curiosity, not what others are doing.

7. 80/20 Analysis of highest leverage activities

“Today everyone is a generalist, a deliberate move on the part of most as a reaction to the economic times.” — Leonard Smith

When studying the process of those you seek to emulate, don’t try to do it all. Everyone has their own strategy. Even those at the top of your field have imperfect strategies.

Find the patterns. What are the key things you must master? Master those.

Then innovate beyond those patterns when you’re ready, so your process comes to exceed the process of those you admire. Eventually, your results will exceed theirs as well.

8. Over-learn high leverage activities

Learning something new is all about memory and how you use it. At first, your prefrontal cortex — which stores your working (or short-term) memory — is really busy figuring out how the task is done.

But once you’re proficient, the prefrontal cortex gets a break. In fact, it’s freed up by as much as 90%. Once this happens, you can perform that skill automatically, leaving your conscious mind to focus on other things.

This level of performance is called automaticity, and reaching it depends on what psychologists call over-learning or over-training.

For example, if you want to quickly learn how to write viral articles, study several hundred headlines of viral articles. If you want to write a book, study just the table of contents of hundreds of books. These are your lay-ups.

Start with small sets of information, then expand from there. By over-learning a particular category of learning, you’ll be able to better understand how it relates to the whole. You’ll also quickly be able to apply what you learn. You’ll quickly see the patterns others miss. Time will slow down for you as your cognition expands.

9. Learn to apply, not to procrastinate “the work”

“The key secret to success is not excessive expertise, but the ability to use it. Knowledge is worthless unless it is applied.” — Max Lukominskyi

Learning is best done while you’re doing the activity. Public education has taught people they must first master theory, then attempt to transfer that theory into the real world. In a similar way, people’s love for information via the internet has led them to use “learning” as a form of procrastination.

A better approach is “context-based learning,” where you learn while doing. The key principles of context-based learning include:

Learn a concept in its simplest form.

Put your rudimentary knowledge to practice in a real-world scenario.

Get coaching and feedback (feedback often comes in the form of “failure”).

Apply the feedback through repetitious practice.

Get coaching and feedback.

Repeat until proficient (see #8 just above).

Interestingly, researchers examined the effects of role-playing on the self-concept of shy adolescents. One group of adolescents got traditional discussion-based training while another did role-play based training. The group that did role-plays experienced a significant positive change in their self-concept, which has a significant impact on their behaviors.

In our digital world, simulation training — based on role-playing real-world scenarios — is becoming increasingly popular.

Additionally, research has found that getting consistent feedback is essential to effective learning. You can use this. By making your work public, you get immediate feedback.

Getting immediate feedback has been found to be a flow trigger. It heightens performance. Especially when the feedback is the real world, and there are real consequences for success and failure.

10. Focus on quantity in the beginning

“Plant a lot, harvest a few.” — Seth Godin

In the book Originals: How Non-Conformists Move the World, Adam Grant explains that “originals” (i.e., people who create innovative work) are not reliable. In other words, not everything they produce is extraordinary.

For example, among the 50 greatest pieces of music ever created, six belong to Mozart, five are Beethoven’s, and three Bach’s. But in order to create those, Mozart wrote over 600 compositions, Beethoven 650, and Bach over 1,000.

Similarly, Picasso created thousands of pieces of art, and few are considered to be his “great works.” Edison had 1,900 patents, and only a handful we would recognize. Albert Einstein published 248 scientific articles, only a few of which are what got him on the map for his theory of relativity.

Quantity is the most likely path to quality. The more you produce, the more ideas you will have — some of which will be innovative and original. And you never know which ones will click. You just keep creating.

11. Track only a few things (ignore everything else)

“If you have more than three priorities, then you don’t have any.” — Jim Collins in Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap…And Others Don’t

If you want to improve at something, you need to quantify it. If you don’t quantify it, you don’t really know what’s happening. As Thomas Monson explains, “When performance is measured, performance improves. When performance is measured and reported, the rate of improvement accelerates.”

I can personally attest to this principle. When I started measuring a few metrics, such as each set in the gym, my income, and how much time I spend in “flow” while working, I dramatically improved in these areas. The reason is simple: tracking helped me become aware and objective about my weaknesses. Thus, I knew exactly where I should focus and could do it systematically.

12. Heighten expectation for what you can accomplish

“I think the ability of the average man could be doubled if it were demanded, if the situation demanded.” — William Durant

I started working out with my current workout partner about two months ago. He’s nearly 20 years older than me and can lift substantially more weight than me.

One of the first things he told me was, “Most people never get stronger simply because they don’t put themselves under the weight.” As a result, our first several workouts involved me being heavily spotted while benching and squatting way more than I ever had before. The purpose was to feel the weight.

It hasn’t taken long at all to increase my strength while working out with my new partner. He’s raised my expectations. Yet I don’t let his expectations dictate what I can do. As will be shown in the following section on mentorships, the expectations of those around you create the context for your growth and potential.

But you don’t need to be bound by those expectations. For instance, just because many of my favorite writers publish twice per week, I decided to hold myself to a different standard when I started writing. In large measure, you get what you expect you will. According to Expectancy Theory, one of the core theories of motivation, motivation involves three components:

the value you place on your goal

your belief that specific behaviors will actually facilitate the outcomes you desire

your belief in your own ability to successfully execute the behaviors requisite to achieving your goals

Learn from the best. But don’t be bound by their standards. Run at your own pace, even if that pace is faster than those you aspire to be like.

Mentorships

13. Surround yourself with people with higher expectations than you have

According to what psychologists call “The Pygmalion Effect,” other people’s expectations of you heavily influence how well you do.

When you’re a child, the expectations of your parents “set the bar.” Interestingly, these expectations form an invisible barrier from which it becomes very difficult to exceed.

For instance, scientific experiments have been done on fleas, wherein they’ve been put in a glass jar. Without the lid on the jar, the fleas can easily jump out. However, the fleas can be trained to stay in the jar by putting a lid on it. After only three days, the lid can be removed and the fleas will be constrained by an invisible mental barrier.

Not surprisingly, the “next generation” of fleas is also constrained by this new and invisible barrier. The Pygmalion effect explains why: the next generation develops the same expectations for themselves as their parents have for them.

If, however, you were to take one of those fleas out of that jar and place them in a bigger jar, surrounded by fleas jumping much higher, mirror neurons would fire and that flea would soon be able to jump higher. Mental barriers would shatter, soon to be replaced by the mental barriers of those in the new jar.

When seeking mentorships, it’s important to realize that the expectations of your mentor reflect the flea’s jar, and invisible barrier, as opposed to your inherent ability. There is no fixed ability. Nothing and nobody has an “absolute” value. Everything is contextual.

Even still, by jumping into a much bigger jar, you’ll quickly grow. Actually, you may learn to jump much higher than you ever imaged with the help of a caring mentor. Thus, it is extremely important for you to surround yourself with those who have high expectations for you. It may be difficult, frustrating, and humbling to develop and grow. But if you stick to it, you’ll eventually reach a new invisible cap.

14. Expect to expand and adapt

Human beings are highly adaptive. For instance, Viktor Frankl reflected on his experience as a Nazi concentration camp victim and sleeping comfortably next to nine other people on small beds. Said Frankl in Man’s Search for Meaning, “Yes a person can get used to anything, just don’t ask us how.” Indeed, this was one of the most surprising aspects of living in a concentration camp, the rapidity at which the shock and horror became apathy and “normal.”

No matter how far-reaching and discontinuous the jump from one environment to the next, a person can and will adapt, whether that means going from zero kids to three (trust me), or from completely inactive to exercising with professional bodybuilders.

Take, for example, Collin Clark, a 20-year-old who lost 64 pounds and 30 percent body fat in six months. The process was simple; he went to the gym and began to emulate the bodybuilders who were there. Eventually, one particular bodybuilder took an interest in Collin and became his mentor. By working out daily with a bodybuilder, Collin transformed. The example of Collin Clark is particularly notable, as he has down syndrome.

When you first enter a new and larger jar, you’ll feel excited and perhaps even intimidated by all the jumping room. However, like gas which spreads to fill the space, it’s been given, you too will adapt. Thus, you won’t want to overstay your welcome. Remember, the jar is a reflection of other people’s expectations.

Hence, the next point:

15. Don’t get stuck with one mentor

“When the student is ready the teacher will appear. When the student is truly ready, the teacher will disappear.” — Lao Tzu

High-quality friendships should last forever. High-quality mentorships, on the other hand, should not last forever.

One mentor can only take you so far; they can only give you one “jar.” If you want to evolve beyond that jar, you’ll need a new mentor. And this is exactly what any true mentor would want for you as well. It’s not about “them.” They are investing in you. It is through your best work that they can live on forever.

16. The mentor sets the expectations, but the mentee sets the tone

Although the mentor’s expectations and abilities reflect the size of the jar, it is the mentee that sets the tone for the relationship and how well it will go.

I’ve been in mentoring relationships where I’ve been a good mentee and a bad mentee. In each case, it was not the mentor, but me, who determined how well the relationship went. No one cares more about your success than you do. It is up to you how far you go in life.

Darren Hardy, the author of The Compound Effect, has said, “Never take advice from someone you wouldn’t trade places with.” Thus, you should be highly selective about the mentors you seek. If you aren’t intrinsically motivated to “set the tone” with your mentor, ask yourself: Do I really want to be like this person? If the answer is no, then they are the wrong mentor.

When you have the right mentor, you’ll know, because you’ll feel extremely lucky to have even a few moments of their time. You’ll do all you can to deepen the relationship, provide value, and learn. You’ll be willing to bend over backward to help them. You’ll take on greater responsibility. You’ll make their life easier. You’ll make them look good.

17. Give credit where credit is due

Although you are responsible for your own success, you are not the sole cause of that success. Far from it. You are not independent of all the help you’ve received. More accurately, you are the product of all the help you’ve received.

You are standing on the shoulders of giants. Acknowledge them for that. And never forget where you came from. Also, never speak poorly about your mentors or those who have helped you along your journey. This does nothing for you. I’ve made this mistake and destroyed important relationships with people I deeply admire — people who invested lots of time and energy into me.

As Ryan Holiday explains in his book, Ego is the Enemy, always be a student. Remain humble. Don’t let ego take over, or it will lead to your inevitable demise.

Mental Models

In this final section, I will detail the beliefs required for rapid growth.

18. Think astronomically

“You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” — Robin Williams

There is some brilliant new research on the concept of Awe, which has been defined as a feeling that arises when you encounter something so strikingly vast (in time, scope, complexity, ability, or power) it provokes a need to update your mental schemas.

Awe, or having a peak experience, can happen during an optimal sports performance or even a deep spiritual experience. When you become mindful, you can experience awe even during mundane moments.

Research has found that experiencing awe can expand your perception of time, alter your decision-making abilities, and enhance your well-being.

I can personally attest to these findings. I’ve experienced awe several times. I strive to experience it as often as possible, which for me provides a much richer and deeper perspective of life.

Awe alters your experience with time because it helps you see things more astronomically. From the perspective of light, for example, time stands still. Thus, this moment, from the perspective of light, is both an instant and an eternity. Time fades into the background of infinite possibility. Nothing becomes impossible. No distance too far.

Awe alters your ability to make decisions because you no longer fear trivial things such as other people’s perceptions, failure, or even death.

Lastly, awe alters your well-being because the mind and body are one. When you improve one aspect of your life, all others organically improve as well. Thus, when you experience a deeper connection with yourself and the universe, you live differently. You see yourself differently, and that perception has the power to alter your biology. Your emotional state also matures and becomes more healthy as well.

19. Think laterally

“Lateral thinking doesn’t replace hard work; it eliminates unnecessary cycles.” — Shane Snow in Smartcuts: How Hackers, Innovators, and Icons Accelerate Success

Most of the United States presidents spent less time in politics than the average congressman. Moreover, the best, and most popular presidents, generally spent the least amount of time in politics. Rather than spending decades climbing the tedious ladder with glass ceilings, they simply jumped laterally from a different, non-political ladder.

Ronald Reagan was an actor. Dwight Eisenhower laterally shifted from the military. Woodrow Wilson bounced over from academia. These men spent considerably little time in politics and became fabulous presidents. They reached the top by skipping the unnecessary “dues-paying” steps. Insanely productive people think the same way. Rather than climbing up ladders the traditional ways, they think of alternative routes. They skip unnecessary steps by pivoting and shifting.

Shane Snow himself used this tactic to get published on some of the biggest media outlets in the world within six months of blogging. How did he do it? He started by pitching articles to low-level blogs with basically no bar of entry. After getting a few articles published on those, he leveraged his new position and pitched to slightly higher level blogs.

He did this by sending editors of the slightly “better” blogs an email reading something like Hello, I’ve written at these blogs which reach similar audiences as your blog. Here’s an article I think would be a great fit for your audience.

Because the editors of those blogs knew about the blogs Snow had been published on, he was able to be published on theirs as well. He followed this pattern over and over until, within six months, his work was published at Fast Company, WIRED, and others.

20. Think more flexibly about “limits” on resources

One of the faultiest and most crippling mindsets people have is over-categorizing things, and then being bound by those categories. Psychologists call this having a ��pre-mature cognitive commitment.”

When you see things from only a singular perspective, you’ll assume there is a limited supply of that thing.

Money, from most people’s perspective, is a limited resource. However, research has found that after basic needs are met, what people really want is a state of mind. Yet, that state of mind doesn’t have to be tightly bound within the cognitive category of money.

Consequently, from a mindful perspective, you can look at certain things, like money or even yourself, from multiple viewpoints. You don’t have to get stuck with fixed and rigid definitions. In nearly any case, you come to realize that what you want is always available to you, if you’ll simply alter your viewpoint. As Ellen Langer, Harvard psychologist has said, “If we examine what is behind our desires, we can usually get what we want without compromising.”

The most detrimental thing we can view from a limited standpoint is ourselves. Don’t let your own assumptions and categories determine what you are. You have no clue who you are or what you can become. Different angles and more flexible definitions allow for limitless possibilities.

21. Think more flexibly about “limits” on time

“It is utterly beyond our power to measure the changes of things by time.” — Ernst Mach in The Science of Mechanics: A Critical and Historical Account of Its Development

Time is an abstraction, which we conceive by the change of other things. For example, the changing of the seasons, or the aging of a child.

Many people have rigid notions, for example, about how long certain things must take.

You can’t finish high school until you’re 18 years old.

You can’t be successful until after you’ve paid your dues.

If you break your leg, it must take a few months to heal.

These fixed notions about time are constraining and limiting. Change can occur at different magnitudes and qualities depending on the context. For example, there is a concept called, “Spontaneous Remission,” wherein an illness or disease surprisingly and immediately changes.

When I started my writing career, I was told it would take me at least three to five years to get the amount of subscribers needed to get a literary agent and subsequent book contract. I was told this by a highly credible source, actually a literary agent herself. However, that was based on her assumptions of time and resources, which resources also included my abilities and motivations.

She had no clue of my context, desires, and abilities. Thus, her assumptions about how long it would take me were absurd. Yet, she was just going off what she had seen, which caused her to be mindless about the situation. Within months of the conversation with that literary agent, I was in the position she said would take several years.

Takeaway: Let go of your beliefs about fixed limits of time. Time is a unique concept, which few of us understand. It need not be linear nor lead to entropy. Again, many scholars are seeing that these are nothing more than assumptions, or fixed mindsets about how things work.

Conclusion

Achieving your goals is very doable. It need not take as long as you may have previously assumed.

There is no fixed limit on how much you can learn and grow. There is no fixed amount of time it must take.

What are you going to do?

Go to our website: www.ncmalliance.com

21 Behaviors That Will Make You Brilliant at Creativity & Relationships Einstein 21 Behaviors That Will Make You Brilliant at Creativity & Relationships Benjamin Hardy, PhD When you see things from multiple perspectives, you realize you can achieve almost anything you want in far less time than you imagined.

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