#ironically people who read braille and have access to things like this have a much higher employment rate
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I waaaaant but even with a grant I'd still have to make about $2k appear out of nowhere. ;_;
#just blind things#I have the bare bones 20 cell version that you can only read on from the state talking book library#and I like it but 20 cells is kind of torturous#and I can't write on it or do anything else with it#braille#love how this kind of thing that's life changing for many of us#is completely out of reach when most of us are denied work#and these are priced with government and employment agencies only in mind instead of consumers#it's so bad people in other countries can't even get access they're just too expensive full stop#ironically people who read braille and have access to things like this have a much higher employment rate#it's a really shit catch 22#I just miss writing dirty fanfic in the dark what can I say XD
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Nancy Drew and Education
So apparently the Clue Crew is full of teachers? Who knew. Well, as a former homeschooled student, current teacher, and (hopefully) future homeschooling parent/teacher I have been planning on integrating the games into lessons for a long time. Below the cut I have just a few of my many ideas (some more fleshed out than others). Feel free to use, adapt, or add your own!
SCK:
- Braille
o How blind/vision impaired people navigate the world
§ How we can make it more accessible for them
o How do braille books and printers work
- ASL
o Memorizing the alphabet and basic signs
§ Build up fluency
o How HOH/deaf people navigate the world
§ How we can make it more accessible for them
o Connections of ASL to other signed languages
§ French Sign Language versus British Sign Language
- Dangers of gas leaks
o What to do if you smell or hear gas
- Inequalities between mens and womens sporting opportunities
o See Women’s Soccer
- What are performance enhancing drugs
o What is the difference between #steroids and the steroids your doctor might prescribe
- How drug running is a gateway crime
- Why blackmailing people isn’t good
- More reasons to never move to Florida
- Why you shouldn’t go to an actual high school part one
STFD:
- Television in NYC
o Soap Operas
o How television sets work
o Role of director
o Teleprompters
o Props
o Agents
- Theatre in NY
o Broadway
§ Learn a show
o Carnegie Hall
- Dangers in the ways we obsess over celebrities
o Paparazzi
o Stalkers
o Respecting privacy
- NY taxi system
- NY regional accents
- NY as a center for immigration – salad bowl
o Ellis Island
- History of NYC
o Geography of NYC
- Typewriters
- Towers of Hanoi
- Encoding
- How to make chocolates (with or without poison)
- Read along:
o New York the Novel (Edward Rutherford)
o The Power Broker
o All of a Kind Family
MHM:
- San Francisco Gold Rush
- Earthquake and Fires in San Fran
- Golden Gate Bridge
- Angel Island
o Asian (Chinese) Immigration to the USA
- Chinese Zodiac
- Fortune telling (and why it’s not okay)
- Bed and Breakfasts
- San Francisco today
o Technology boom
o Overpriced everything
§ How this hurts established residents
§ Homelessness in San Fran
- Bandits in the American West
- Hauntings in American buildings
- How to remove and install tile
- Renovations – refurbish something
- Antiques
o Visit an antique shop
- Importance of fire safety
- How to install lighting fixtures properly
- How to fix a dumbwaiter
o How not to be a dumb waiter
- Tangrams
- What is the Victorian period
o Significance of Queen Victoria
- Read Along:
o Little Brother
o Paper Son: Lee’s Journey to America
o Angel Island Gateway to Golden Mountain
TRT:
- The French Revolution
o Marie Antoinette
o Women and the French Revolution
o Worldwide effects of the Revolution
o Historians of the French Revolution
- Writing history
o How we can focus on different events in history, how we can be sympathetic to certain people, how we can fulfill different spaces in the historical narrative, criticism of history as a field, entering history as a field
- Wisconsin Dairy industry
- Alarm systems and how they work
- Fingerprinting
- Elevator safety
- Ski lifts
o Skiing
- Vandalism
- Taking care of libraries
- Latitude and longitude
- Keeping records of good events and bad events
o Nothing you do will ever stop me from loving you
- Some people keep different sleep schedules
- Journalism
- Making translations
- Why France has different holidays – to keep the ski lodges from getting too full
FIN:
- History of theatre spaces
- Use of film at theatres
- Magicians
o Houdini
o Learn a ‘magic’ trick
- Library of Congress
- Demolition – wrecking balls
o What’s involved
- Plaster casts
- Historic register of buildings
o Visit a local historic building
- Price of concessions and movie tickets today
- Nickelodeons
- Celebrity stunts for attention from press
o Celebrity endorsements
- Jazz music
o Dancing
- Kidnapping stories
o What to do if someone tries to grab you
- Rubber vs. electricity
- Art/artists of the 20s
SSH:
- Numbering systems (particularly ones not based on 10)
- Cultures of South America
o Maya
§ Cultural understandings
§ Connections to what appears at Beech Hill
o Aztec
o Inca
- Myths of lesser civilizations because of European preconceptions
- Why do countries have consulates/embassies in other countries
- What is amnesia and other medical memory issues
- Provenance and why its important part one
- Roles and responsibilities within a museum
o Visit a museum
o How to be critical of a museum and how knowledge is presented to you
- Modern art
o Make your own
o Visit a modern art museum
- Periodic Table of Elements
- Positive and negative molds for casting
DOG:
- Prohibition
o Speakeasys
o Amendments to constitution
o Drinking age restrictions
§ Comparison of USA to European countries
o Connections to modern drug policies
- Recognizing and photographing local birds
- Dangers in the forest – ticks and other pests
- Why water sources are important
o Flint water crisis
- Visit a state park
o Importance of maintaining public land
- Alcatraz
- How to care for dogs
- Noise pollution
o Light pollution
CAR:
- History of carousels
o Visit a carousel
- Lathes
- Harmonicas
- Band organs
- Writing messages with lemon juice and other hidden inks
- How to iron
o How not to iron
- How to make a sundae
- How amusement park rides are designed
- Soldering
- What is parole
o Welcoming those who have been in prison back to society
o Problems with the American prison system
§ How it disproportionately affects minority groups
o What can be done in prison reform
o Abuses in prison
o Making mental and spiritual help and guidance more available
o Making sanitary products available
o Prison for profit hurts everybody except the prison owner
o Educational opportunities for those in prison
o More half-way help
o Juvenile sentencing reform – more out of system help
o Respecting humanity of prisoners
o Ending the death penalty
- Depression
o How to get help
o How to help others
o Dealing with loss
DDI:
- Native peoples of the Pacific Northwest
- Orcas and other whales
o Whaling industry in Northwest and Northeast
o Things whale products were used for
o Visit natural history museum with whale exhibition
- Visit an aquarium with a good reputation
o Problems with places that do not take care of their sea life – particularly large sea life like whales
- What is a chowder and how is it made
o Try or make chowder
- Crabs
o Restrictions on different types of crabs – what type is local
o Try a crab dish
- Importance of different knots
o Get some rope and learn how to tie different knots
- Know the NATO alphabet and letter flags
- Boating knowledge
o Go on a boating trip – know the port and starboard sides
- Learn how to kayak
- Try to learn how to skip rocks
- Visit a lighthouse
o Importance and histories of lighthouses
- Smuggling – what is it and why does it happen
- Shanghaiing
- Chess
SHA:
- The continuous oppression and mistreatment of Native Americans
o From Mayflower to Pocahontas to Trail of Tears to Dakota to DAPL to Reservations to food deserts to voting rights to much much more
§ How to support current Native voices and concerns
o Why Native Americans are not a costume
o “Possession” of Native American objects and land
§ Arrowheads and native jewelry
o Broad overview of regional Native American groups – using their own voices
§ Special focus on local Native American groups
· Is there a local museum/educational resource that is either Native created or known for respecting Native voices
o Current Native Americans of note (ex: politicians, activists, artists)
o While the previous focuses on Native Americans in the modern day USA – also discuss First Nations from Canada and Native Groups from more southern areas
- Why temperature and pan matters when baking (show what happens in the oven when it goes wrong)
- Magnets and how different metals react differently to magnets
- How to take care of a horse and other farm animals
o Visit a local farm
o Try horse-riding
- Dangers of rattle snakes and scorpions
- Lassos and how to use them
- Legends of outlaws in the American West
- Ghost towns
- Flower stitches when knitting/crocheting
- Petrified wood
- How to make a campfire
- Picking fruits and veggies when they are ready
- Flower language
- Read Along:
o Native American folk tales
o Motorcycles and Sweetgrass
o Gone Away Lake
o Black Beauty?
CUR:
- Where are the moors
- Different regional accents within the United Kingdom
- British foods
- Latin
o Learn fun phrases and prayers
- Ancestry and genealogy
o Map your own family tree and recognize family crests
o How adoption has historically been a binding and irrefutable concept for lineage
o Find places your family lived
o Leaving a history for your descendants
§ Write a story book for them
o British Royal Family
§ Why incest is bad
- Parrots and their intelligence
- Secret passages in old buildings
- Alchemy
o Connections to modern understandings of science
o Historical understandings of elements
- Astrological signs
- Witch trials
- Legends of lycanthropy and other monsters
- Importance of not taking other peoples medicines
- Runic alphabet
- Feeding your pets a healthy diet
- Typing practice
- How to embrace the idea that home taught students are evil geniuses
- Forges and melting points of different metals
- Carnivorous plants
- Succulents
- Constellations in different places
- Read Along:
o The Secret Garden
o The London Eye Mystery
o Beastly
CLK:
- Great Depression
o Causes and effects
o Who was hurt
o Who was not hurt
o Areas of America
§ Dust bowl
o Famous people and literature
o Homelessness and poverty
§ Bread lines
§ Soup kitchens
§ Anti-homelessness architecture
§ Connections to mental illness and veterans
§ How we can help those who do not have homes today
- Early Telephones
- Shakespeare
- History of Nancy Drew
o Mildred Wirt Benson
o Edward Stratemeyer
- Fishing – why different fish respond to different bait
- Orphanages in the early 20th century
- Gas prices and accessibility of cars through time
- How to make pie
- What is jurisdiction and what is significant about crossing state lines
- How do banks work
o Safety deposit boxes
- Identify theft
- How to use a sewing machine
o Sew an item of clothing
- Mini golf – why and what
- Mirrors and their usefulness
- Stamp collections
-
- Radios and call signs
o Comparison to modern internet forms
- Telegrams
- Read along:
o Shakespeare
§ Midsummer Night’s Dream
§ Others
o Pollyanna
o Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm
o The Grapes of Wrath
TRN:
- Trains
o Steam trains
o Visit a train museum
o Take a train ride (if not a normal event)
o Importance of transcontinental railway
o Trains around the USA today
o Trains around the world (TGV, bullet train)
- Abraham Lincoln
- Mark Twain
- How to make a good burger (you leave off the PB&J)
- Slugs
- Periodic Table of Elements – abbreviations
- Gemstones
- History of Mining
o England (Newcastle upon Tyne)
o American West
o Appalachia
o Company Store
o Health issues for miners
o Danger of mines
o Current issues for mining
- Dancing the Hurley Burley
- People who collect creepy dolls
o History of porcelain dolls
- Embroidery
o How to
o Patterns/symbols
- General Stores in the American West
o Sears
- How to make taffy
- Find a well maintained and beautiful tomb and research who is entombed
- Focusing light through a magnifying glass can start a fire
- Read Along:
o Murder on the Orient Express
o Mark Twain books
DAN:
- All lessons in French
- How using different ingredients and different amounts of ingredients can affect the outcome of your cookies
- Paris métro
o History
o How to read/follow a métro map
o RER
- Montmartre and other Parisian neighbourhoods
- History of Île de la France and Square de Vert Galant Parc and Pont Neuf
- WWII and the French Resistance
o Cross of Lorraine
o Vichy France
o Abuses of the French gov’t in this period
- Paris and the fashion world
- Beauty standards and the rejection of natural beauty by society
o Dangers of weight and figure standards
o You are beautiful as you are
- Catacombs of Paris
- Famous French Dishes (from this region)
o Or Bretagne since I know and like them better
- The French Café
- Moulin in France
- Tea and how hot leaf water can taste so bad but still be good for you
- Buildings of Baron Haussmann
- Paris History
- Decoders
- Importance of vitraux historically, culturally, and religiously
- Read Along:
o Little Kids
§ Madeline
§ Babar
§ Petit Ours
§ Plume
o High School
§ Hunchback of Notre Dame
§ Les Mis
§ Dale Van Kley
CRE:
- History of Hawai’i and her native people
o How the USA screwed them over and continues to do so
§ Land colonizing today
o Listen to voices from Native Peoples
- Pearl Harbor
o USS Arizona
- Native myths and legends
- Local flora and fauna
- Surfing
- How to make bead necklaces
- Snorkeling
- Entomology
o Find some local bugs and identify and observe them
- Horticulture
o See if you can graft something
o Watch a carnation placed in water with food dye
o Regrow a fruit or veggie from the leftovers
- Go looking for seashells – see how many complete shells you can find
- Be aware of pesticides and the dangers they offer
o Dangers of organic food too
- Make something with pineapple in it
- Fishing – different kinds of native fish
- Volcanos
- Hula
ICE:
- Wolf sanctuaries – respecting wildlife and their place in the wild and not the domestic
o What to do if you see a wolf in the real world
- Fur trapping in Canada history
- Regions and Capitols of Canada
o Visit Canada?
- How the Canadian government works
- Use of French language in Canada
o Unique features of Canadian French
- Ice fishing
- How to cook omelets, salmon, etc.
o How to not add paprika cause like ew
- Fossils
- Radiation
o Marie Curie
- How to be a good maid
- Snowballs/ice balls
- Ice skating
- Winter weather safety
- Avalanches
- Saunas
- Birthmarks
- Fax machines
- How to not lie about bird watching
- Frozen water safety
- Modern offenses against First Nations by Canadian Government
CRY:
- Culture of the Arawak and Caraïbe
o Voodoo
- Mardi Gras in New Orleans
- Hurricane Katrina and aftermath
- French Influence
- Eyes and their parts and functions
- Teeth and their parts and functions
- Alligators in the Southern USA and how they are dangerous pests
- Graveyards/cemeteries and how to be comfortable in them
o Modern burial practices
o Why are they above ground in Louisiana?
o Places where they are running out of space for the dead
o Historic violations of final resting places
- Ventriloquism
- Lizards and how to care for them
- Rube Goldberg machines
- Curio shops
- Crystal Skulls
VEN:
- International crime
- Organized crime
- Scopa
- Italian basics
o Learn an Italian aria
- Italian food
o Not just spaghetti
- History of Venice
o Current issues in Venice
- Carrier pigeons
- Micro-dots
- “Observing the architecture”
- Try to make gelato (or just get gelato, either way you get gelato)
- Disguising yourself – put on an outfit and try to get me to not recognize you
- Picking locks
- Secret codes
- Solfege
o With hand signs
o Learn a song in solfege
- Carnivale
- Learn how the sausage gets made
o How to deal with food poisoning
- How to secure your living space against burglars
o Glass breaks, motion sensors, keypads, magnets, and more
- Read Along:
o Heist Society
o The Prince
o Merchant of Venice
HAU:
- Irish lessons (as much of this in Irish as possible)
o Why the Irish language is important
- Geography of Ireland
o Provinces and counties
- Irish names
- Why Ireland has disliked and should dislike the UK
o Historically
o Famine
§ Emmigration
o Easter Rising
o Troubles
o Present-Day
- Importance of alcohol in Ireland
o Uisce beatha
o Guinness
§ Guinness world records
- Irish music
o Irish instruments
o Learn some Rebel songs
- Ogham runes
- Irish foods
o Something with lamb, who cares what
- Don’t use friends for land development
- Bogs
- Chemical Reactions
- Rockets
- Inventions and secrecy during WWII
- Religion in Ireland
o Pagan traditions
o Christianity
o Catholic/Protestant tensions
- Irish wedding traditions
- How printing presses work
- Irish castles
- Sheep sheering/raising sheep
- Irish legends
o Fae
o Leprechauns
- Don’t drive and talk on the phone
RAN:
- Why blackface is problematic? (the fact that this needs to be said is problematic in and of itself)
- Scuba diving
- Sailing
- Bermuda Triangle
- Bats
- Primates and their intelligence
o Problems with animal research
o Koko
o Jane Goodall
- Island resort culture
- Metal detectors
- Pirates
o And the Caribbean
o Their abuses
o Different kinds
o Modern day pirates
- How do walkie-talkies work
- US mistreatment of island territories
- Read Along:
o Bloody Jack (Meyer)
WAC:
- Edgar Allan Poe
o Stories
o Baltimore
- Piano
- Victorian Dining traditions
o How to set a place for fancy dining
o How to fold napkins
o Table manners
o How to serve someone at a fancy dinner
o How courses might work
o How to use your silverware
- Why you shouldn’t go to an actual high school part two
o Just fyi – that’s not how uniforms work
§ Have a school inspired dress code for a week
- Bullying and why you absolutely will not be a bully
o How to respond to bullying
o Importance of talking to adults and counseling
- Logic puzzles
- Research the founding of a local school
- Stringed Instruments
- Plagiarism
o Turnitin
- Making sandwiches – like a good deli style sandwich
- Photography scavenger hunt – make a digital (or physical) yearbook
- Squirrels
- Orthographic projection
- DNA/RNA
- Saving every major project on three different thumb drives
- Getting along with roommates
- States and Capitals
o Countries and capitals of the world
TOT:
- Tornados
o Technology used to observe tornados
- Meteorology
- Prairie dogs
- Life on the great plains
- Great Plains Native Americans
- Small towns in the Midwest honestly be like that
- Defensive driving
- Make a disaster kit
- Know what to do in various natural emergency situations
o What is the local alert protocol
o What do local authorities recommend
- How to maintain and fix a car
- How to fix a broken device
- What is tenure
- How to budget
o Go to the grocery store on a strict budget (however much you come in under budget is your candy budget)
- Read Along:
o Little House
SAW:
- Basic Japanese phrases
o Learn to count
o Writing in Japanese
- Sudoku, nonograms, renograms
- Japanese ghost legends
- Japanese culture
o Tourism
§ Ryokans
o Space – everything small
o Politeness/formalities
o Hot springs/baths
o Tatami and paper walls
- Japanese cultural dress
o Kimonos
o Lolita? Fashion
- Japanese names
o Last name first
o How to address others in Japan
- Martial Arts
o Ninjutsu
§ Traditional tools
- Japanese tea ceremony
- Schools in Japan
- Teaching English as a foreign language
- Japanese subway/train system
- Pachinko and Japanese gaming
- Japanese vending machines
- Robotic animals
- Bento
- Japanese foods
- Origami
- How to fake a haunting
CAP:
- Basic German phrases
o How to make a German word
o Connections of German to English
- German food favourites
o Especially cakes
- Storytelling as a cultural entity
o How memory has worked differently in different times
- Glass blowing
- How castles provided for the local community
- Bavaria in Germany
o Cultural dress
- Glockenspiel
- How to make board games
- Monster stories of central Europe
- How to monitor security camera remotely
- Read Along:
o Heidi
ASH:
- Arson
o Watching how different accelerants burn a piece of paper
- All politicians are at least somewhat self-serving
o But write a letter to a local politician anyway
§ Different ways to contact elected officials, and why some don’t work
- How to make ice cream
- How a police investigation works
o Problems with police departments around the world – specifically USA
o Ways that police work unfairly targets minorities
§ If Nancy is innocent how many others are
- How to use matches and lighters safely
- Why you should not return to the scene of a crime – particularly a fire
- Making sure smoke detectors work properly and the system is connected
o We might not go to school but fire drills are still important
- What is a mass spectrometer
- Who to call if you’ve been arrested
- What to do if you get pulled over
- How the media can skew the truth and make their own narratives
- Sound mixing
- Be careful with what you say/post/record
o Keep receipts and clarify when possible
TMB:
- What not to do at an archaeological site
- Ancient Egyptian History
o Pantheon, notable figures, relevant events
o Pyramids, sphinx
o Pharaohs
- Modern Egypt
o Arabic alphabet
- History of archaeological digs in Egypt
o Why they’ve been problematic
- Dangers of the tombs
- Mummys
o How they are put together
- Tomb raiders
- Importance of water in the desert
- How to piece together a broken artifact
- How to gently brush off an artifact
- There is no such thing as a dictionary for ancient Egyptian
- Aliens did not build the pyramids
- Senet
- Desert life safety
- How mirrors can be used to light a room
- Read Along
o Rick Riordan
DED:
- Nikola Tesla
o All his fun stuff
o Tesla Coils
- 3-D printing
- Gummy fingerprints
- Faraday Cage
- Basic electric concepts
o How to build a circuit board
- Chemical safety
- How a lab might work
- Valuing different skills within academia
- Ultraviolet light
- How motorcycles work
- Freelance photography
- How to use academic databases
GTH:
- Slavery in the United States
o Origins
o ‘End’
o Civil War
o The connection to “southern culture”
o Continued abuses of Black people in America
§ Importance of recognizing Black voices and what they are saying
§ Listening even when it’s uncomfortable
§ Checking privilege when you have it
o Jim Crow Laws
- Plantations
- Gone With the Wind
o The good and the bad
- Civil War spies – female
- Carbon monoxide poisoning
- Burned out houses are not a safe space
- Do not go digging through people’s coffins – rest in PEACE
- Understanding that your family can be flawed
- If you don’t want to get married, if you’re not happy in a relationship, end it
- When a member of your family is sick you take care of them
- Make a will, just in case your cousin kills you
- Bachelor and bachelorette parties should feature activities that everyone is comfortable with
- Read Along:
o My Last Skirt: The Story of Jennie Hodgers, Union Soldier
SPY:
- Scotland and their identity
o Celtic Nations
o Independent Scotland
o Call a Scottish person
- Unicorns and other mythical creatures in Scotland
- Scottish food
o The appetizing parts
- History of spies
- Biowarfare
o Code Orange
o Other teenage stories dealing with anthrax
o Current events and concerns
o Historical biowarfare (smallpox blankets)
- Ziplining
- Archery
- How to bug someone
- Tartans and plaids
o Kilts
- Augmented Reality Glasses
- Record players
- How to reset a circuit breaker
- Read Along:
o Gallagher Girls
o Code Orange
o Little House (Martha)
o Little Brother (Doctorow)
MED:
- Don’t meet your heroes
- New Zealand
o Maori culture
- Survivor style game shows and realism
- I’m not saying Aliens can’t exist, I’m saying they def aren’t involved here
- Kayaking
- Submarines and what they can do
- Turtles
- Earthquakes
- Be careful with rope bridges
LIE:
- Provenance and why it’s important part two
- Greek art and how it was originally painted vibrantly
o Abuses of Greek art through the ages
- The British Museum and the issues with that
- Greek pantheon
o Legends and notable figures
o Religious traditions
- Iliad and Odyssey
- Art forgery
- How to fire clay pots and pottery
- Memorizing lines for a play
o Staging for a play
o Role of a director
- Theatre
o Lights
o Curtains
o Fly system
o Sound
- Greek alphabet
- Historical importance of the Greek language and culture
o Alexander the Great and Hellenization
- Olympics
o Historic and modern
- Greece and the European Union
- Make something with pomegranates
- Read Along:
o Iliad
o Odyssey
o The Thief
o Percy Jackson
SEA:
- Iceland
o Culture
§ Naming traditions
o Language
o Music
o Food
- Shipbuilding
o Historic and modern ships
- Ice caving
- Northern Lights
- Tides
- Snowmobiling
- Poetry
- What is xenophobia
MID:
- Some games just shouldn’t be made
- American witch trials
o What actually went down
o Misconceptions
- Treating people with albinism as real people
- Arson is bad
- Herbal remedies and how they can interfere with modern medicine
- Witchcraft and how not to
- Salem MA
- Ignorance promotes fear and hatred so we do our best to learn about others
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I posted 199 times in 2021
142 posts created (71%)
57 posts reblogged (29%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 0.4 posts.
I added 457 tags in 2021
#bnha ideas - 104 posts
#bnha crack - 72 posts
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#crackship - 32 posts
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Longest Tag: 125 characters
#you know afo doesn't care about his harem of politicians when he doesn't bothering locking any of them in a vault for a month
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Sung Jinwoo the ASMR content creator
There's ASMR videos of pretty much anything and everything nowadays. The sound of cooking, eating, raining, etc.
Jinah decides to record a video of Beru eating - Beru likes eating even though he doesn't need to. Jinah uploads it to Youtube titled "ASMR of Ant eating".
Unsurprisingly it goes viral.
And this is how the public gets to know more about Korea's newest S rank via ASMR videos of Jinwoo's monster summons trying new things out. Like eating spicy ramen and dying from the spiciness.
It's sort of like watching a pet dog trying out different types of vegetables and fruits, except it's a towering giant of a monster doing the tasting.
Suddenly Jinwoo's summons don't seem to be that menacing to the public. Jinwoo himself earns a whole lot more public goodwill; more importantly, Jinwoo can skip out of interviews and leave it to Beru to handle it since Beru is such a public favorite now.
In fact, Beru is regularly invited to participate in variety shows.
I imagine that Jinwoo also receives offers to have his own reality show that focuses on the daily life of his summons.
--
Imagine Igris working as the cameraman to film other shadow summons doing Stuff. Beru as the guide / instructor teaching the shadow summons what to do.
Sung Jinwoo just sighs and returns back to cooking dinner for Jinah. Meanwhile Jinho is reading through contract after contract of endorsement offers for Beru and Igris. Money is money, no matter how weird everything is. XD
75 notes • Posted 2021-11-16 15:30:31 GMT
#4
Blind!Sung Jinwoo AU
Let me first start by saying that I have no clue how a blind Jinwoo would end up in a situation where he is in a red gate.
But I want a Jinwoo that's more dependent on his shadow summons; like he has Igris guide him around buildings that are not disability friendly and Beru read the labels (that don't have braille on it) out loud for him.
Just in general, Asia is not very disability friendly; it's changing in the urban areas but slowly. Jinwoo can use the influence and status of being a S rank to push for more disability rights and laws.
Jinwoo doesn't like the public attention, but he wants to do something good with it. So he has more to do than just saving the world by clearing one gate at a time. He cannot be solely focused on gates; he also has to improve his and other blind people's quality of life. Especially as I imagine that disability rights and accessibility issues (along with other social issues) have fallen wayside when the gates showed up and Awakenings were more newsworthy.
His guild would then double as a lobbyist group / raise awareness campaign.
Maybe Jinwoo was blind from birth; maybe he lost his eyesight in one of the gates he entered as an E rank. Ooh maybe he permanently lost his vision in the red gate while gaining his abilities!
76 notes • Posted 2021-12-06 14:30:29 GMT
#3
Touya is a multi-purpose household tool beyond being a stovetop
Touya being a portable stove is old news. Let’s talk about some other things he can go.
Curl hair: He’s got fingers for the tighter curls, wrists and arms for larger curls. Or he can hold some steel pipe that is usually used to bash people’s heads in with and heat that up like it’s a curling iron. Imagine Toga waving her wet hair in front of touya to dry and curl with his quirk.
Iron: Touya is also the one who irons Compress’ button up shirts - cheaper and easier than buying a proper iron. He just waves a ladle or big spoon from the kitchen around the clothes to get rid of the wrinkles.
Clothing dryer: this one is pretty obvious.
Heating pad in the winter: Touya tucks in all the LOV members at night, especially in the winter. While tucking them in, he also heats up the blankets so that it’s nice and toasty, especially for Spinner.
Not to say that Touya does any of the above very well - many shirts and strands of hair have been burnt to crisp. But theoretically. THEORETICALLY. he can do all the above. Somehow. With some finessing.
It becomes habit, then, whenever a LOV member hands him a cup of liquid that he heats it up to become hot but not boiling and then he hands it back. Even Kurogiri hands Touya cups to heat up.
#Touya the League mom
110 notes • Posted 2021-11-17 15:30:51 GMT
#2
Sung Jinwoo suddenly finds himself to be a Prince
So here are the facts:
Sung Jinwoo is Korea's newest S rank.
Korea's previous 10th S rank defected to the US.
Korea really needs more S ranks.
Sung Jinwoo isn't motivated by fame or money or anything really tangible as far as they can see.
In conclusion, KHA needs a way to made Sung Jinwoo stick to Korea and not get tempted by any offers from other nations. Aka they do a shit ton of digging.
And while digging through Sung Jinwoo's family tree - don't ask why, someone was just curious - they find that one of Sung Jinwoo's ancestors on his mother's side was a daughter of the House of Jeonju Yi, but given that daughters marry out of the family and lineage is normally traced through the father's side, Sung Jin woo and his parents never knew about that particular fact.
But now the Korean Hunter Association does. And they broadcast this bit of fact widely.
Everywhere.
It's great marketing; it's a great moral booster. It sounds just like out of a fairytale and god knows that the world needs more fairytale stories during a time of great chaos and violence from sudden gates emerging.
So people start calling Sung Jinwoo a prince. Prince of Korea, in fact. They cling onto the hope of the royal family, legends, and religion.
And the existing few members of the House of Yi make it official too. It's as though being Korea's 10th S rank wasn't enough, Sung Jinwoo is seen as representing Korea as a royal member in the international stage, complete with diplomatic immunity (which he unofficially had being a S rank).
(Jinah loves being an official princess now though.)
Sung Jinwoo barely is able to squeak through without having to do ceremonial duties under the excuse of being needed to respond to gates any moment.
But anyhow, Jinwoo is screwed. No country is now going to want the hot potato of stealing Korea's prince now, either. Just as the KHA wanted.
It doesn't help either that Beru keeps using "My Liege" even in public, adding to the whole mess.
156 notes • Posted 2021-11-10 15:31:00 GMT
#1
Sung Jinwoo the housewife reawakens as a S ranked
Basically Sung Jinwoo finds out he's an E rank, the weakest rank possible. Dungeons are too dangerous to risk, he concludes, as the chances of him dying and leaving his sister alone are much too high.
So he shift gears.
And ends up marrying rich.
He's got the cute looks; there's some rich, rather young (maybe a decade order than Sung Jinwoo) guy who wants a cute male housewife. It's a farfetched idea, but somehow it works.
Sung Jinwoo doesn't know much about gay relationships since he doesn't particularly think he swings in any direction - no crush or anything of that sort since he's been too busy figuring out how to lessen his mom's burden and then managing his mom's hospital bills.
But he presumes (presumes incorrectly) that the attraction is that he's stronger than the average person (great for bed lmao) but not stronger than the rich husband, so he clearly falls into the "female" role of the relationship.
He doesn't marry rich rich, but the husband is comfortably rich. New wealth, first generation wealth - probably some tech company. Jinah goes to a good international school; his mom's hospital bed is in the VIP section.
Jinwoo's job now is just to live a good life and good marriage. He doesn't love his husband, but he appreciate his husband's company. His husband is caring, encouraging him to spend more money to spoil himself and whatnot.
So one day, Jinwoo decides to buy a ticket to tour a dungeon.
Some D and C ranked Hunters have started a business venture of bringing a small group of tourists - regular humans, E ranked hunters usually - into E ranked dungeons where these tourists can briefly get a front row seat to watching how dungeons are cleared in person. It's expensive AF however. It's also illegal, but the hunters do it under the radar since it's good money.
It's just Jinwoo's luck that his ticket is the E ranked dungeon that is actually a red gate. And he reawakens as a S ranked hunter.
*
Just watch the media be all confused at how Korea's newest S ranked hunter is a male housewife who declines to clear S ranked dungeons to cook his husband a good meal instead. And apparently this S rank prefers to communicate with the outer world through his CEO husband instead - are you sure the S rank isn't getting domestically abused? Nah, he's an S rank, but what if...
Jinwoo and his husband are good partners - just shit at communicating until everything piles up and they have to have a proper talk for once to figure out how to handle Jinwoo's reawakening status.
And now, because of his husband being a business owner and CEO, Jinwoo can't avoid the media completely like in canon. But he still finds ways around it.
*
Insert a scene where Jinwoo panics over how he's growing taller and more conventionally handsome. He believes his husband married him for his cute looks; his new look is most certainly not cute anymore. He's about to be taller than his husband!
Meanwhile on the other side, the hubby is inwardly panicking over how he's worried that Jinwoo is going to want to marry a higher ranked hunter. Hubby is either a regular human or a weak D or C rank Hunter.
*
I also want to see the CEO do K drama CEO things in the relationship because that would be funny AF. Like Jinwoo, he also doesn't know what the fuck to do in a marriage, so he watches Korean dramas with Jinah - that's how he builds a relationship with his sister in law - and gets some ideas on how to behave.
Then when Beru comes around, Beru and husband only encourage and fuel each other's mannerisms... Jinwoo is very exasperated and very amused XD
Ashborn is most certainly getting the wrong impression of how human relationships work now.
173 notes • Posted 2021-11-08 15:31:03 GMT
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writing blind characters: some common considerations
Hey if you're gonna write Daredevil fic or any fic about a blind character really please do some basic goddamn research. Here is a helpful list of starting links and considerations! You don't even have to type words into google!!
Note: This isn't aimed at anybody in particular. There are things the comics, the show, or fic, get write and other things they get wrong and they're not all the same so this is just a generalized list of the most common areas where misconceptions seem to happen. This can also be generalized and used for any other blind character in the 2010s in North America.
Phones and computers While someone who is blind might use the voice-to-text feature like Ok google or Siri for convenience sake, the primary way of interacting with a smartphone is by using a screenreader. They come built in to iPhone and Android products and have for like, the last ten years (Android was a little slower on the uptake, whatever). You touch the screen, it reads out what is under your finger. If you double-tap it, it activates it. You type by sliding your finger across the keyboard and lifting it up when you're on the letter you want. All of this is applicable to tablets as well. Windows and Mac computers! also using screenreaders! Mac's in built in, windows has a built in one but it's shitty. There's an expensive option for Windows and a by-donation option, both of which work well. There's even a screenreader for Linux, though it works better on certain distros than others. You do your navigating with the keyboard (and no, you don’t need a special braille one) unless you suspect there's something on the screen that can only be accessed by the mouse, but using the mouse isn't super responsive and it's not intuitive for people who have been using computers for a while. Apparently Macbooks have a track pad that we should all bow down and praise, I have no clue. Note that if you have any goddamn respect for your own privacy and not irritating other people, your phone will not blare out incoming text messages. Call display in Android has been fucking broken for actual years but as far as i know it does work in iPhone.
Here are a couple demo videos, but there's plenty more out there. Talkback for Android https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YJSWYLZD8EI JAWS for Windows: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_ATY9gimOM (this guy has key echo turned on and I don't know how he hasn't thrown his computer out the window yet)
Braille displays and braille printers So the biggest fucking mystery about Daredevil is how he could afford a braille display as a starving lawyer haunted by student debt, but sure ok we'll go with it. There are a variety of braille displays out there! You can hook them up to your phone or computer via bluetooth or usb, and it will display the contents of the screen line by line on the display. Most displays will also let you input text and commands in braille. Note that as of this writing, you need to have a screenreader running on your computer/phone to use a braille display. I'm not sure what display Matt uses in the show, but here's the wikipedia article in case you want to learn more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Refreshable_braille_display
As for braille printing, yet again, I'm just going to tell myself he managed to find one cheap second hand or paid for it with a small business grant or something. And while ymmv in terms of how much hard copy braille material you want to use, chances are it's not going to be a lot. Braille paper is extra thick and braille is bigger than print, so documents that might only be one print page could be two or three braille pages. One of the Harry Potter books was ten volumes. I think my high school biology textbook was twenty volumes. It came in three massive cardboard boxes. I have no idea how big my university textbooks would have been, or if they even exist, because i did all of that with ebooks or scanned versions. So I guess what I'm saying is yes, there can absolutely be times when preference or necessity means somebody's using actual braille printed on an actual braille printer, but chances are pretty low it's going to be all the time or even often.
Mobility! As a friend of mine once said, Matthew stop abandoning your canes everywhere, that's forty bucks down the drain every time and also not really subtle. Not a lot here besides like, the normal term for it is cane. White cane if you need to differentiate it from a walking cane (though fuck it they can be whatever colour you want). Stick if you don't know what you're talking about or your a blind person trying to like... use ironic humour or something i don't know; some people have done it. As for guide dogs? They do not just appear magically from the friendly guide dog fairy. you cannot give them as a gift. They do not know where the shopping mall is or what bus to get on or when to cross the street. Getting a dog is a long, complex, and careful process that requires a big time and effort commitment. There are a variety of different guide dog schools out there, but if they're promising to ship you a fully trained dog if you just send your credit card information kthx you're in for an unfortunate surprise. Finally, a dog is not leveling up from a cane. They are two different mobility aids, both with different pros and cons. You don't graduate from cane to dog. If you want you can switch from one to the other, which can depend on lots of things like the environment you live in, the sorts of things you do, your own health, your family and other pets, etc.
Anyway ok I'm done and if you have questions, fuck it, my ask box is open
#daredevil#blindness#Matt Murdock#writing#sorry if I'm beating a dead horse or whatever#long text post#I have taken a double dose of nighttime cold medication and I'm still awake I'm gonna fight the moon
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Heard And Not Seen
This is Chapter 3 of I See Starlight. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTE: SPOILERS FOR TO HONOR AND PROTECT. If you have not read it, please go back and do so before proceeding. THIS WAS A LIVEWRITE! Shout out to everyone who dropped in and made comments! I loved every moment.
Truthfully? Mitsuhide was terrified. The whole morning felt a little like holding your hopes in your mouth and trying not to swallow them. If this failed--if he couldn’t do this--then he was truly useless to the Nine.
Apparently Hideyoshi was just as nervous. Mitsuhide picked up on some of his ticks better without eyes. He did a faint humming thing under his breath when he wasn’t so certain of something, flexed his fingers until the leather of his gloves stretched and ground. With a quiet snicker, Mitsuhide reached out and patted Hideyoshi’s hand on the breakfast table.
“Anxious, are we?”
A pause. No doubt Hideyoshi wasn’t expecting that. “Do I look that nervous?”
“Nothing looks nervous to me anymore.”
Hideyoshi managed a thin laugh at that. “Ass.”
He picked through his clothing in silence (and that had gotten much easier. He didn’t need any help with the buckles and buttons now, easing his way into his uniform with practiced hands) and met Hideyoshi at the door. As if on cue, the other man adjusted his blindfold to smooth out the wrinkles.
“Am I suitable for the public, dear?” Mitsuhide crooned, the snaky grin on his lips.
Hideyoshi just coughed. “Alright. Let’s go and find your bookseller.”
The sun only gently brushed over him. Was it overcast? Mitsuhide reached out his hand and tried to decide, waving it back and forth. It didn’t feel too moist in the air, so no doubt it really was just a few clouds--or early. “What time is it?”
“Barely eight.”
“Ah. Is it sunny?”
“Overcast.”
Despite himself, Mitsuhide laughed. “I was correct, then. I’ll take my victory. Shall we?”
Hideyoshi tried to guide him through the marketplace by hand, but he rapped his cane against the other man’s boots to make a point and he stopped trying. The scent of fresh bread circled around them. A misty wind swept in from the ocean and he licked his lips, relishing the tang of salt that forever lingered in the City. On habit, he picked around the fruit stall and selected an orange, paying for it and going back on his way.
“That was… You did really well with that.” Hideyoshi commented. “Pretty smooth.”
Mitsuhide grinned and slicked back his long hair, realizing at the last second that he couldn’t wink. He settled for shooting a sly glance in the other man’s direction. “I’ve always been smooth.”
Hideyoshi just groaned.
At last they reached the bookstall. Almost immediately he heard the swish and turn of thick satin skirts, her little patter of footsteps as she came to him and settled her arms on his elbows. She hadn’t even spoken before he heard the smile in her voice. Oh, he could get used to that. “Good morning! You’re by early.”
“Miss me, little mouse?”
She was close enough that he felt the radiating heat of her cheeks. “And who is with you today?”
“Oh, forgive me.” Hideyoshi bowed by the sound of it. “Hideyoshi Toyotomi.”
A slight pause. “The Hideyoshi Toyotomi?”
“Err… yes.” Hideyoshi was blushing, too. Mitsuhide didn’t need eyes to know that. “Were you not… aware of who Mitsuhide is?”
Come to think of it, he’d never given the little bookseller his name, had he? He felt her grip tighten on his elbows. “You’re Mitsuhide Akechi?”
“Oh, and here I thought you knew all that.” In fairness, he’d never made a habit of announcing who he was in the past. Made it easier to sneak around the City and eavesdrop on unsavory conversations. Snickering, he ran his thumb over her cheek. “Never mind all that. I came by to ask a little favor of you.”
She hadn’t quite recovered herself, but she rubbed his arm agreeably nonetheless. “Alright. Alright. What do you need? A particular book?”
“Not quite. I need a braille translator. You do all that yourself for me here, right?”
“I…” A pause. “Yes. I do, though it isn’t perfect--”
“I’ve found your work flawless. Would you be interested in doing a little help for me? I’d consider it a personal favor, but we would also compensate you for your time.”
“Oh, um--sure! Is it more book-related stuff?”
He grinned and laced his arm through hers. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in locking up shop for a bit and coming to find out?”
“Mitsuhide, could you not make that sound creepy?” Hideyoshi cut in, worrying as usual. “We need someone to translate a large number of volumes into braille for him. It’s not an easy job, but it is one we need filled.”
A pause. She clearly thought about it before he felt her nod. “Alright. Sure. Um. Let me just lock up for a moment.”
---
They entered the Royal Library to find Mitsunari chasing the Queen around a table, both of them laughing hysterically. Mitsuhide grinned and paused in the doorway, listening to the patter of their feet. “Did I come in to a stampede?”
“Hideyoshi! Mitsuhide!” The Queen laughed and dashed behind them, clinging to their shirts. “Save me!”
Mitsunari just stopped in his tracks, panting softly after the exertion. Mitsuhide laughed outright and reached for his friend, finding his chest with his palm. “And here I thought your stamina might have gotten better.”
“I don’t think you know what kind of stamina I have?” Mitsunari answered, confused.
“Mitsunari,” Hideyoshi stammered, “We don’t--why--”
“What?”
“Our dear, sweet rosebud is as oblivious as ever.” Mitsuhide snickered. “At any rate, I’m here for tutelage in your fine hands. I suppose we can talk about your stamina afterward, should the good Queen want to--”
“Oh my God, please, let’s change the subject.” Her Highness sounded mortified. “Mitsuhide, you were the one who wanted the training?”
“I volunteered, yes.”
A long moment of silence.
“Um,” Mitsunari paused, clearly considering his words. “Well, the reading might be a little… interesting.”
At this point, the bookkeeper stepped forward, her skirts rustling around her ankles. “Your Highness, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’ve been recruited to transform the books into braille versions for him.”
“Oh! Huh.” Another moment. The Queen sighed lightly. “That’s very work intensive.”
“I’d love to figure it out.”
At that, Mitsunari clapped his hands together. “Alright! It’s settled. We’ll give it a shot.”
--- Watching the training terrified Hideyoshi.
They cleared the main study table from the center of the library, creating as much space as possible--which also meant there wasn’t much for Mitsuhide to triangulate his position with. Hideyoshi tried to soothe himself with the knowledge that Mitsunari and the Queen would never let him endanger himself--but still. What if the floor was uneven? Surely being in the dark about your positioning was nerve wracking.
Fortunately, he had other things to distract himself with.
The Bookkeeper had set up a little platform on the side table and was squinting at some of the volumes, a small hole punch held in her hand. It took him a moment to understand what she was doing. Had she been hand punching the braille this whole time? How much time had she invested in making the stall more accessible?
“Excuse me,” he murmured, tapping her shoulder. “Can I help you with that?”
“Mmmm?” She blinked up at him before smiling. It was a sweet, pretty little smile. Hideyoshi found himself very fond of it. “No, no. Unfortunately there’s not much you can do. I’m just… I’m just trying to discover the best way to do this.”
“It looks time intensive.”
“It is.” She sighed at that, rubbing her fingertips down the old volume’s thin pages. “Monumentally so.”
The old fears that this just wasn’t possible surfaced in his mind. As one, they watched Mitsunari putting that iron staff in Mitsuhide’s hands, watched the white-haired man trace his palms up and down it to better understand the weight of it.
“You know what?” The Bookseller said at last. “I’ve got a thought. Would you mind helping me with something, Sir Toyotomi?”
“Err, Hideyoshi is fine. And certainly.”
--- The something was a large box of tools and metal. He carried it obligingly back to the library with her, making small talk the whole way. Her favorite color was red. They both came from the same small village out in the southern forests, which was odd. She’d only moved to the City after the Invasion.
“An odd time to come, don’t you think?” He asked, readjusting his hold on the box.
“That’s what my mother said,” she laughed, her giggle soft and pearly.
“That’s not the first time I’ve been compared to someone’s mother.”
“Oh nooo.” But they both cracked up anyway at that. “Well, I understood it wasn’t going to be the most, you know, put-together after all that happened, but…”
He watched her bright eyes flicker over the far-off ocean. Something familiar sparked in her gaze. It wasn’t so unlike the way that Mitsuhide used to watch the world, a keen inner world coloring the shape of things around her.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “I thought after everything that happened, maybe people would need a bit of another world to escape into. Books are good for that. I’m not gifted at much else.”
That turned out to be a lie. She was terribly gifted. Hideyoshi watched as she took the box of small metal bits and bobs, forming what looked first like a casing, then formulated small, long levers that connected to a central device. He sat by, fascinated in turns by her intricate engineering and Mitsuhide’s intense focus in Mitsunari’s tutelage.
“What are you doing?” He asked at last, enchanted.
The Bookkeeper looked at him from her comically large magnifying glasses. “I’m making a machine.”
“A machine?” He gawked. “For…?”
“I’m… I’m trying to think up a faster way to do this.” And then she flipped over the small tray she’d been working on, setting it onto the casing. A series of buttons laid out on it, each marked with an individual character. “My thought is this: if I could just press a button for the letter and have the corresponding braille character stamp onto a page, then I could do this much faster.”
“That’s brilliant.” Where the hell had this woman come from? Hideyoshi just stared in disbelief. “I’d have never thought of that.”
She flushed bright pink, twirling the screwdriver in her fingers. “I’m just trying to do my best.”
Admiration surged in him. Without meaning to, he reached out and took her hand. “Thank you.”
“Whatever for?”
“For doing this for him.”
He watched her lower her eyes, her gaze flickering over to Mitsuhide. They both watched as he furrowed his brow in concentration, stretching out his hand--and a tiny flame emerged from the tip of his fingers. And oh, oh, the expression on his face was radiance itself. After all those long months seeing a stranger, there he was. There was Mitsuhide, in all of his sharp and predatory and brilliant glory, buoyed by success.
“I don’t need thanks,” the Bookseller murmured. “I’m rather fond of him, as it happens.”
Me too, thought Hideyoshi. Me too.
---
By the end of the lesson, Mitsuhide was sweaty and worn out, his muscles screaming for a stretch and a hot bath--and despite all that, he was so happy he felt fit to explode. He’d done it. He’d done it. Strung together with adrenaline and the taste of normalcy, he slipped in the direction he heard Hideyoshi and the Bookseller in, wrapping his arms around someone’s shoulders. It felt like Hideyoshi.
“I do believe the ocean is receding. Must be low tide.”
Mitsunari laughed at the joke over the Queen’s groan. Hideyoshi shifted and Mitsuhide knew he was rolling his eyes. How good it was to feel their reactions still.
“Mitsuhide, if you would?” Her sweet voice caught his ear. “I just want you to read something for me and see if it is legible.”
“Mm?” Had she spent all of her time here punching out the braille? That must have taken forever. Obligingly, he slipped to her side, ignoring that Hideyoshi braced his elbow as if he might fall. “Do tell. I’m all ears… or fingertips, as it were.”
Into his hand she pressed… a whole book. He frowned and gripped it tighter. There was no way. “Is this the original book?”
“No, it’s the translation.”
Bewildered, he flipped open the first page and ran his hands along the thick pages. He could read it. There it was, in the staccato ridges, the valleys of language itself rising and falling against his skin. He paused in disbelief.
“How did you do this?”
“She made a machine,” Hideyoshi told him. “It’s this brilliant thing.”
“Show me it.”
They reached for his hands at the same time. Without meaning to, he snorted, feeling them both fumble over who would show him what. “You know, I like both of you quite a lot. I’ve two hands. No need to fight over me.”
“Alright then,” Hideyoshi managed, his voice strained with embarrassment. “Here you go.”
Cool metal met his hands. He danced his fingers between the pedals, pressing a few experimentally. “You did this all in the space of time I was training?”
“Well, I had bits and pieces laying around, so not all of it…”
“She’s being modest,” Hideyoshi interjected. “It was insane.”
“Mmm,” he sighed, trailing a hand over hers. “I thought you were a special one.”
Stammering, she managed a simple, “Th-thank you.”
“Hideyoshi, listen to that little mouse.”
“I’m not a m-mouse!”
But he just grinned and placated her with a kiss to her hand. “Of course you aren’t. I am most thankful for you.” ---
They saw her off to her house and walked back together. The sky lanced with sharp streaks of orange and purple and red, a horizon so infinite that Hideyoshi couldn’t conceive of the end of it. He wished for the faintest second that Mitsuhide could see it, too--but then he glanced over at his friend and saw how his long white hair reflected each thread of that infinite rainbow, catching an entire world on its own.
“Hideyoshi?” Mitsuhide finally started. “This blindfold is miserable. Am I unpresentable without it?”
“Hmm?”
“It catches sweat. I’m not fond of that.”
“Oh. Well, try it out. I’ll tell you if it’s really as bad as your normal face.”
Mitsuhide snickered at that and reached behind his head, undoing the silk tie. It slipped away and Hideyoshi wondered that they’d ever thought to put it on him at all. His white eyelashes rested like frost on those angular cheekbones, the eyelids hollower, but still smooth nonetheless.
“It’s just fine,” Hideyoshi reassured him. “You look just fine.”
“Good.” A ghost of a smile flirted with Mitsuhide’s mouth; he straightened and sighed deeply. “That woman really is something else, isn’t she?”
That bewildering mix of jealousy surged in him; for the first time, Hideyoshi wasn’t sure who he was jealous of. “She is.”
“Mm.”
The two of them lapsed into silence. Overhead, the first stars shone through the dipping dark.
#Ikemen Sengoku#Ikesen#Ikesen Fantasy Au#Hideyoshi Toyotomi#Mitsuhide Akechi#Toyotomi Hideyoshi#Ikesen Hideyoshi#Akechi Mitsuhide#Ikesen Mitsuhide#my writing#I See Starlight#ISS#Mitsunari Ishida#Ishida Mitsunari#Ikesen Mitsunari#Mage Mitsunari#Ikesen Medieval Au#Engineer MC#Heard And Not Seen#Bi!Hideyoshi#Bi!Mitsuhide
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Collapse - Chapter Six
The Waiting Game
Cowritten and Proofread by @aoimikans
Naomasa took the stairs two at a time, foam cup of coffee in hand. He checked his watch. 6:03AM shined up from the clockface.
“Still early.” Nodding, Naomasa slowed as he reached the top of the stairwell and pushed the door open.
“Sir!” Sansa greeted him in the hall and jogged up to him.
Naomasa quirked a lopsided smile at the officer’s appearance. His fur stuck out at all angles and his right ear was flipped backwards.
Shaking his head, Naomasa pointed in the direction of the locker rooms, “Go home, Sansa.”
Sansa blinked blearily, “S-sir? Wait, no, I can-”
“You look exhausted,” Naomasa chuckled and reached out, carefully fixing his subordinate’s ear, “Did you stay here all night?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Sansa’s ears pressed back guiltily. He rubbed his gloved hands together, shoulders bent in exhaustion. He gestured behind him, toward the bullpen, “Those kidnappings, sir… There’s been another, and I’m trying to map out the a-” Sansa yawned widely, blinking and rubbing at his face, “Sorry. I’m trying to map out the area to narrow the search parameters.”
“Already thinking like a detective,” Naomasa commended softly, “Thank you, Sansa. But please don’t burn yourself out. I need everyone at their best for this case, and you still have your separate duties as an officer.”
Sansa bowed his head, “Sorry, sir.”
Naomasa clapped his hand on Sansa’s arm, “No need to apologize. I appreciate the help. How about this, you can come back after getting at least a solid six, alright?”
A soft trill came from Sansa’s throat, and he smiled, “Thank you, sir. I’ll do that. Oh, and Alb- Wright’s team got here an hour early. They’re already hard at work and should be ready for the morning briefing.”
Naomasa nodded, patting the officer’s back, “Thank you. Get some rest, Sansa.”
“Yes sir!” he chirruped, continuing down the hall.
Naomasa watched Sansa go before walking to the conference room. Taking a long swig of coffee, he knocked and entered.
“Good morning,” Naomasa greeted.
Wright’s team sat around the conference table which was shoved to the front of the room to make space for the large whiteboard in the back. Boxes of evidence and files sat on the far end of the table, a couple open. Their contents were strewn across the wooden surface. Colored tabs stuck to the tops of each smaller pile.
“Morning, Detective,” Mary Shin grinned up at him as her peers returned the greeting. She brushed a lock of white hair behind her ear and tapped the stack of papers in front of her, “Court order came through. Rishi General Hospital just had the rest of their supply records sent over, including any supply contacts with the Espa Clinic.”
“Good,” Naomasa turned to Vera Lang, “Any luck with the clinic?”
Lang’s fingertips brushed over her digital braille terminal, and she nodded, “The clinic’s owner has a spotty history. I wouldn’t be shocked if he was a straw owner, renting out the building’s old maintenance tunnels as a hideaway. Either way, shady business. Reminds me too much of Montgomery’s opioid case in the UK.”
“Mary, I finished this stack,” Genji Tsuda said, quietly sliding the papers to her, “Some of these don’t make sense. They are labeled as surplus, but don’t show up in the storage count. It’s fishy.”
Naomasa leaned across the table, tilting his head to read the highlighted supplies.
Intravenous fluids, calcium supplements, iron supplements…
“These are some of the supplies found in the room where Yagi was kept,” Naomasa felt a wave of energy rush through him, “Great find, Tsuda.”
Tsuda glanced up at Naomasa, and a small, bright grin lit his face as he dug into the next stack of paper. The small fern at the center of the table doubled in size.
“Tsukauchi,” Bellamy called from across the room, “Could you come see this a moment?”
The empath stood next to the whiteboard. On it were pictures of four people, two men and two women, with one of the women off to the side.
“Since Yagi’s second abduction, four people have been reported missing in the nearby Wards. Officer Tamakawa was working to find a possible connection between these recent missing person cases,” Bellamy tapped on the picture separated from the rest, “This woman here is Mirai Shimeno. We can’t be certain that she’s involved, but her disappearance is suspicious to say the least. She was reported missing after she failed to show up to work. Her supervisor noted that on her last shift, she never clocked out.”
Naomasa nodded, committing the woman’s face to memory, “Fair enough. Where does she work?”
Bellamy pointed to a pinned spot on the map, then stepped back to gesture at the marked edge of the circle surrounding a cluster of other colored pins, “She works in a senior care center just outside of our search radius. The fact that she went missing in a medical facility was reason enough for Tamakawa to include her on our list.”
Naomasa’s expression darkened, “A senior care facility…”
He glanced at Wright who gave him a knowing nod.
Isamu Sato’s words echoed in the back of Naomasa’s mind, “I used to work in a cancer ward for terminal patients. It was one of my night shifts…”
Naomasa pinched his lip in thought, his gut urging him as he asked, “Bellamy, what was the time frame of Shimeno’s disappearance?”
Bellamy hummed, picking up a file, “Roughly between 10pm to 2am. Apparently she was going to cover for another coworker in the morning, and no one could reach her when she didn’t show up. ‘Uncharacteristic’ according to her supervisor’s report.
“There was something else,” Bellamy continued as his fingers moved along his rosary, “I went to get a feel for the place. There was a sense of loss - an emptiness. Now, it’s not uncommon considering the nature of the facility, but after a little asking around, I discovered that one of her patients passed away in his sleep during that same time frame.”
A chill worked its way up Naomasa’s spine.
He was there. All for One.
Bellamy turned, gesturing to Wright, “Go ahead with your theory.”
Wright set his pen down and stood, frowning as he made eye contact with Naomasa, “While I realize my… error in how I handled Sato’s interview, the information gathered remains valid. This is his M.O. Taking quirks from those close to death like a scavenger. A senior care facility is one place with easily accessible quirks.” He pointed to the picture of Shimeno, “If she was anything like Sato…”
“Wrong place, wrong time,” Naomasa murmured with a nod, brows furrowed in thought, “Was Sansa able to find something connecting the rest?”
Bellamy hummed, turning back to the map, “The rest were taken off the street. Souma Ogawa at midday and on film. Kousuke Shiga vanished in the evening according to his friend who had planned to meet him for their Sunday drinks. So far, he’s the only person with a criminal history. He robbed a convenience store four years ago and did his time for it. Tayori Yamadori was last seen by her grandchildren when she dropped them off at their home. Yamadori runs a flower shop but hasn’t opened the store in a couple days.”
Bellamy gestured to each pin marking their homes, places of work, and frequently visited locations, “It’s a bit spread out, but one commonality between them is their pharmacy. Each opted to pick up their prescriptions here-” he tapped on the single red pin. Then he sighed, “Granted, any number of people could be using that pharmacy for any number of reasons. Still… it isn’t something that should be overlooked.”
“Now, to be clear,” Wright abruptly spoke up and moved to Naomasa’s side, “You believe these people were captured by the man known as the Good Doctor and All for One?”
“Yagi believes so,” Naomasa said, approaching the whiteboard. He considered each missing person’s face, “Something he remembers the Doctor said while he was at the Espa Clinic makes him think as much. Unfortunately, I think he’s right. He has a good sense for these things.”
“Why not bring him in?” Wright asked with feigned nonchalance.
Naomasa pinched the bridge of his nose, “He -”
Wright held up his hand almost apologetically, “I know he’s been injured, but he is the most valuable asset to this case. You both believe these people are being abducted to recreate what was done to Yagi. So, why not use what he knows?”
“We already have what he knows,” Naomasa insisted, “I was also there at Kamino. I know what All for One’s transmission quirk looks like,” he added, pointing at the blurred screenshot of Ogawa’s abduction.
Sighing, Naomasa went to the coffee machine and refilled his foam cup, “Please keep in mind, Yagi was a pro hero and knows what sort of information we need for these investigations. If he remembers anything more, he knows to contact us.”
Just let him rest, Naomasa thought, stirring the still steaming coffee. He deserves to distance himself from this.
Wright rounded the table and gestured to the many stacks of paper, “Then perhaps as an extra set of eyes?”
Lang huffed a frustrated sigh, “Will-”
Naomasa barked a laugh, earning startled looks from each of the team members - though Bellamy’s was more bemused.
“Toshi- ah, Yagi and paperwork don’t mix well,” Naomasa said with a chuckle. He sipped from his coffee before taking his place at the table, “Listen, if I believe we need Yagi’s consultation, I will ask for him myself. For now, we are fully capable of working this case with the information he has given us and what we have found.”
Wright crossed his arms and frowned, but Bellamy pat his shoulder and squeezed gently.
“That sounds perfectly fair,” Bellamy said, humor twinkling in his dark eyes as Wright dropped his hands and argument.
“Thank you.” Naomasa turned away from Wright, “Speaking of bringing people in,Vera, any luck with your Rishi Gen supply logs?”
Vera huffed, “I’ve noticed inconsistencies similar to those Genji found, as well as what look like hidden transactions, but they all lead to dead ends-” She waved her hand in Wright’s direction, “Yes, yes, Wright, I know how you feel about dead ends , but like you said I could use another pair of eyes so to speak. I suspect Miss Shiire knows more about the inner workings of this log than I do.”
“I thought as much,” Naomasa hummed, considering the whiteboard, and nodded, “Alright. I’ll bring her in. We have enough on her through Sato to at least make a case for theft and fraud. She may accept a deal and agree to help us for a lesser charge. We need to find where these hidden transactions lead.”
Unbidden, the memory of Toshinori stumbling, pupils blown wide, and drugged out of his mind came into sharp focus.
The bits and pieces taken from him still sat in evidence.
Determination fired in Naomasa’s gut.
Never again. That damn Doctor will not have free reign.
“I agree,” Bellamy flipped through his notes, “With these new kidnappings, the Doctor and All for One will face a drain in their resources. If we manage to unravel this puzzle, and if we can get the cooperation of other nearby medical facilities, any attempt on their part to obtain materials through these hospitals will lead us directly to their hidden location.”
Naomasa grinned fiercely, “Exactly.”
“Alright,” Wright frowned but took his place at the table, steepling his fingers, “So Tsukauchi will see to Miss Shiire. Mary, if you would, accompany him.”
“Me?” Mary blinked, “I- well I have spent more time in the logs… Yes. I should be able to tell if she’s trying to lead us astray. I wouldn’t mind joining you if that’s alright, Detective?”
Naomasa’s lips twitched with amusement, “I wouldn’t mind at all. Any other suggestions, Wright?”
Wright gave him a blank stare, “I’m ready to get to work if you are.”
“Great,” Naomasa said, clasping his hands together. Just as he reached for a free file, his phone binged merrily. He gave it a quick glance and grinned.
“Here we go,” Naomasa pocketed his phone and at the questioning looks he explained, “A meeting was just confirmed with Ryukyu, the Dragoon Hero. She is familiar with the area around Espa Street, often dealing with the rival gangs there. It’s possible she will recognize the small time villains guarding those old tunnels and know if they are connected to any larger organizations.”
Any lead is progress.
“Good luck,” Tsuda said, his sharp focus never wavering from the logs in front of him.
Naomasa smiled and nodded, “Thank you. I’ll send an officer in when I’m ready to head back to Rishi, Mary.”
“In the meantime, I’ll try to identify as many of those strange transactions as possible,” she replied.
Taking one last swig from his cup of coffee, Naomasa stood and straightened his jacket, “Thank you everyone. I trust your skills. We are going to find the Doctor and recover the people he’s kidnapped.”
Naomasa bowed swiftly before exiting.
The clock is ticking.
Toshinori glanced down at his new, updated watch and raised an air horn high in the air.
And… now!
The air horn blared, the sound echoing across the disaster zones of USJ.
From his place at the top of the stairs, Toshinori could see the students leap into action. His tail swayed, and he grinned.
This felt right.
Classes 1-A and 1-B were split into groups of five, students intermingled to give them a variety of unfamiliar quirks to work with. Each group was set out to locate, treat, and retrieve a U.A. teacher acting as survivor and instructor.
Lowering himself onto the top stair with a grunt, Toshinori turned and elbowed Aizawa’s leg.
“I still say I would have been fine acting as a survivor out there,” Toshinori said, his tail thumping the ground with excitement.
Aizawa glanced down and gave him a flat look before returning his attention to the four fields, “You’re already injured.”
He suddenly winced, yanking his earpiece out and giving it a red-eyed glare.
“HEEEEEEELP!” The drawn out yell echoed loudly from the rockslide area.
“Present Mic is really going all out,” Toshinori joked, hands over his sensitive ears.
“I’M TRAPPED! SOMEBODY HELP!”
Toshinori’s attention focused on the screen showing the kids approaching Mic’s location. Their hands covered their ears as they cast nervous looks at the loose and shifting rocks. Young Kirishima and Tokoyami pointed to the rocks most likely to shift, and redirected their team, choosing a safer route to Present Mic.
“HEEELP!”
The students barely dodged a sudden rock slide knocked loose by Present Mic’s shouting.
Toshinori grinned fiercely, “When the person you are trying to save is using a volatile quirk in panic, it can create a far more dangerous situation - if you don’t calm them down first.”
He recalled the boy who turned water to vinegar and a certain explosive incident.
“Calm down!” Bakugou roared, hands smoking, “We’re coming already!”
Speak of the devil. Toshinori chuckled.
“YOU CALL THAT REASSURING??” Present Mic scolded.
“If he doesn’t learn to inspire confidence in those he tries to save, he’s going to continue to struggle,” Aizawa grumbled, marking something on his clipboard.
Toshinori quirked a smile, warily glancing at Aizawa’s notes, “Every student has their weaknesses. He will learn.”
“Don’t worry! We’re coming to save you!” Kirishima called out.
“You’ll be safe soon, sir!” Shiozaki promised, clasping her hands together and sending her vines into the ground.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Toshinori’s smile widened, “They’ve figured something out.”
Tokoyami darted forward, Dark Shadow shielding Present Mic from the shifting stones above.
Monoma touched Kirishima’s arm, and they both ran forward. Their arms hardened and they dug Present Mic out from under the rubble. Shiozaki’s vines appeared from the ground, steadying the space left open when Kirishima tugged Present Mic out.
Monoma and Kirishima laid Present Mic down.
Kirishima looked over Present Mic for ‘injuries,’ spotting the fake blood painting Mic’s pants, “Where are you hur-!”
The ground suddenly shook.
Shiozaki tensed, sweat beading from her forehead, “Hurry!”
High above, a giant boulder suddenly came loose.
“Where do you think you idiots are treating him!?” Bakugou leapt forward.
“Tokoyami! Shield!” he growled, throwing up his hands.
Dark Shadow burst forth, expanding overhead.
Bakugou’s AP Shot burst from his hands with a catastrophic boom! The boulder exploded, debris showering the area. Kirishima and Monoma stepped in front of Present Mic with hardened bodies as Dark Shadow shrank in the harsh light.
When the dust cloud settled, Toshinori grinned as Bakugou appeared in front of Present Mic, hand outstretched, “Come on. I’ll carry you somewhere safe.”
Present Mic nodded satisfactorily, grabbing the young hero’s hand.
Toshinori chuckled softly, “He’s learning.”
Aizawa hummed, but Toshinori spotted the proud glint in his gaze.
Toshinori jolted as his tail thumped the ground loudly, and he snatched the limb up and pulled it onto his lap. The tufted tip still wagged eagerly.
He coughed, ears heating as the long tuft swat against his chest.
Behave, he pat his tail.
“Looks like the other groups are wrapping up,” Aizawa said.
Toshinori’s ears perked and he scanned the disaster areas. In the shipwreck cove, he spotted Izuku and Jurota Shishida helping keep Cementoss’s head above water as they were pulled to shore by Yaoyorozu and Tetsutetsu. Manga Fukidashi ran forward, words of concern popping up where his face would be.
“Looks like a successful rescue,” Toshinori hummed, “I imagined that area would pose an issue for young Tetsutetsu. With his quirk and body type, I wonder how well he can swim without sinking.”
Aizawa nodded, “That’s why I put Yaoyorozu and Midoriya on his team. With their planning skills, they can make up for any weaknesses if they put their minds to it.”
Toshinori smiled and suppressed a sympathetic chuckle as Jurota shook off the water coating the fur on his body once they reached the shore. He ran his fingers through the ridged mane along his tail.
Scooting back, Toshinori pushed himself up with a grunt and, leaning on his crutches, focused on the arriving students.
“Well done,” he called, tail swaying happily as the first of Class 1-A passed by.
His students smiled brightly, energized by the chance to use their skills. A few of them sported small scrapes and burns from their practice run.
“Students with injuries report to Recovery Girl,” Aizawa said, gesturing over his shoulder at the tent by the exit.
“Go on over,” Toshinori nudged Ojiro toward the tent, “That’s a nasty burn. You too Jirou. Aoyama, good thinking utilizing your laser to get up on the roof. Keep working on your landing.”
Aoyama nodded, smile intact but strained as he clutched his gut.
“I can’t believe that’s All Might.”
Toshinori’s ear twitched back, but he continued to usher injured students toward Recovery Girl.
“Cut that out. Of course he’s All Might.” He heard another student say, “You heard what happened. That’s the risk that comes with being a hero. Show some respect.”
Toshinori quirked a lopsided smile and sighed. All in all, 1-B was taking it fairly well. Better than Toshinori had expected. He asked Blood King to give a brief announcement to the class about his condition. Even so, Toshinori saw the astonished looks that the students of 1-B sent his way.
Ah well, these things take time.
He turned and pointed young Monoma toward triage, “Have Recovery Girl take a look at your head. Looks like you have a bump.”
Monoma clicked his tongue as he covered the bleeding scrape and turned to Kirishima, “Man, what’s with your defective quirk?”
“Practice makes perfect,” Kirishima grinned challengingly and hardened the skin on his arm, “You gotta work to level up!”
“Boring.” Monoma huffed dismissively.
“It’s manly!” Kirishima sputtered indignantly.
Shaking his head, Toshinori snorted at the bickering.
So much energy.
Itsuka Kendo waved at All Might as she passed, catching his attention. She bowed her head briefly, “It’s good to have you back, All Might-sensei.”
Toshinori smiled softly at the familiar voice. ‘Some respect’ huh? I see why she’s called the ‘Big Sister’ of 1-B.
“It’s good to be back,” he said, and gave her a knowing look, “Thank you.”
There was a soft buzz in his pocket, and he excused himself, allowing Aizawa to take over for the moment. He hobbled a little away and pulled out his phone.
[How was class?] Naomasa’s text read.
[Just wrapping up. Not bad for the first day back.] Toshinori replied, [I observed for the most part.]
[You need your rest] was Naomasa’s quick reply.
Toshinori’s tail swayed as he grinned, [Either way, I’ll be glad when I can be more active.]
[Just take it easy until then.]
Toshinori’s ears twitched when he heard a bang and students laugh loudly.
[With these students?] he joked, chuckling to himself.
[Right…]
Toshinori went to pocket his phone, then hesitated. He lifted it back up.
[Have there been any leads in the case?] he asked.
There was a long pause, and for a moment Toshinori thought Naomasa had put his phone away. Then:
[We’ve found a few things connecting the four recent missing person cases. While that isn’t a confirmation that the Doctor has them per se, we can’t ignore it.]
Toshinori furrowed his brow, [Four? I thought it was two?]
[Another person was reported missing under suspicious circumstances, and a nurse reported missing earlier this week may be connected.]
[But listen, Toshinori.] Naomasa continued, [We’ll find them. We are working on a few possible leads now. It’s going to be alright.]
[That’s my line,] Toshinori replied. His gut twisted painfully, and he fished a small ball of aluminum from his pocket and popped it in his mouth.
[Is there anything I can do to help?] he asked, his grip on his phone tightening.
It’s been days for Ogawa… How many quirks -?
Naomasa’s text popped up on his screen, [You can focus on getting better.]
A jolt of frustration zipped down Toshinori’s spine, and his hackles bristled. Then, he sighed, shoulders slumping. He’s right…
Swallowing the last of the aluminum, Toshinori rubbed at his chest. It was nearly time to empty the acid sac. It pressed uncomfortably at the base of his ribs and left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Ah, wait.” His ears perked, and he quickly typed, [William Wright. I ran into him at the station. I forgot to mention it before, but he gave me his card.]
[...] The pending dots bounced for a moment, and Toshinori could almost hear Naomasa sigh.
His broken hock throbbed dully in its brace, and he shifted his balance on his crutches as a wave of fatigue washed over him.
His tail curled uneasily.
Phone buzzing again, Toshinori looked down at the screen.
[He asked to bring you in today. I told him just what I told you. Rest first.]
Damnit. Toshinori lowered his phone and scrubbed a hand down his face. Four people. He’s taken four. How can I just… ?
His leg ached.
[I know you want to do more,] Naomasa’s next message read, [But you have your students, and they need you more. You’ve already given us great leads to follow.]
[I know. You’re right.] Toshinori conceded, despite the old call to action pulling at his chest.
[I’ll keep you updated,] Naomasa said, [and if you think of anything, you can tell me. We’re still going to catch him, Toshinori. He’s not getting away.]
[We’ll get him, I know. Thank you, Nao.] Toshinori replied.
He pocketed his phone with a sigh.
Glancing up, Toshinori’s lips twitched with a small smile as he watched Aizawa and Blood King round up the students and issue homework based on the day’s trial.
Warmth cautiously bloomed in his chest, There are still things I can do.
Isamu pulled the freshly made key from his pocket, turning the sleek metal over in his palm. The key slid solidly into the deadlock, and with a smooth twist, he unlocked and opened the door.
Midday sun shined through the windows of Isamu’s new, campus apartment. It was a one bed, one bath apartment with a spacious kitchen and living room - a far cry from his old, cramped apartment. A small pile of boxes sat in the corner of the living room. Everything he owned neatly labeled “Kitchen,” “Bedroom,” “Bathroom,” and “Other.”
Isamu checked his watch.
All Might has class for another half-hour. Plenty of time to unpack the essentials.
Opening up the “Bedroom” boxes, he smiled, “At least I won’t have to live out of a duffle bag anymore.”
Earlier that morning, Principal Nedzu had come to him in the infirmary with a genuine apology for the delay.
“Delay?” Isamu had asked.
“For your housing!” The principal chirped with a cheery smile, “It took us some time to collect your belongings, but you’re all set now!”
Isamu’s cheeks burned, “H-huh?”
“Third floor, sixth door on the left,” Recovery Girl said, patting his hand as she dropped the key in his palm.
“The accommodations should be to your liking,” Nedzu said, whiskers twitching.
Isamu shook his head. The principal hadn’t been kidding.
Finding his washed bedding, he hoisted up the box and carried it to the western style bedroom. He glanced around the bare room.
A clean slate.
In Isamu’s back pocket, his cellphone buzzed. He quickly fished it from his pocket and grinned at the caller ID.
“Hey Mom,” he answered, tucking the phone against his shoulder, “How are you?”
“I’m just fine, Isamu,” Koharu said, and Isamu could hear her smile, “How are you doing? They aren’t making you do anything dangerous, are they?”
“No, no. Nothing dangerous, Mom,” Isamu laughed, pulling out his fitted sheet and wrestling it around his mattress, “While I am around some of the hero course students, I’m just making sure All Might doesn’t strain his leg for now.”
“I see,” Koharu sighed in relief, then gasped, “Oh! You aren’t working now, are you?”
Isamu grinned, throwing his comforter over the bed and patting it flat, “No, I’m setting up my apartment on campus which… was a pleasant surprise.”
“Oh, yes,” Kohana hummed, “I think we got a call about that. Is it nice?”
Isamu tossed his pillow on the bed and left his bedroom. Rummaging around, he found a bathroom box and collected his towels and soaps.
“It’s like twice the size of my old place and cleaner,” he said, then looked up, spotting a sliding door, “It has a balcony.”
A giddy flutter filled his chest as he set the bathroom supplies aside and slid open the balcony door. A rush of unseasonably warm air blew past, swirling inside his living room. He laughed aloud at the view.
His balcony faced a U.A. training forest, like a rolling sea of green, orange, and yellow.
“There’s so much to see here, Mom,” Isamu huffed a disbelieving laugh, “You know my last place? My window faced an alley, but this… This is incredible!”
“Oh Isamu,” his mother sighed, delighted, “I’m so happy for you. A new, safe job and studying under Recovery Girl. Are you enjoying your work?”
Isamu paused.
That blonde student’s glare flashed at the back of his mind.
“Y-yeah!” Isamu quickly replied despite the unease in his gut, pushing the memory aside, “I mean… I’m not working with as many patients as I’m used to, but I’m still helping. Learning from Recovery Girl is a dream come true. Did you know she has to consider exactly what she is healing and how the mending process works? It’s not just accelerating the healing process of the patient. She has to know exactly what she wants to have healed and to what degree.”
“I’m sure you can learn a lot from her,” Koharu said. In the background there was a high pitched whistle, “Oh dear, water’s done. Well, I just wanted to check in and give you some exciting news.”
Isamu straightened, “Oh?”
“Well, when your father and I dropped you off at the station, we … happened to run into our old friend who works in child services. And we decided to open our house and foster again.”
A bright grin split Isamu’s face, “That’s amazing!”
“Oh good!” Koharu huffed a sigh of relief, “I was worried over nothing.”
“Mrs. Sato! Can I help?!” came a distant shout.
“Yes, Hatoko dear. Would you like to take that basket down the hall? I need to pick some squash,” Koharu answered, “Just be care- be careful with your wings. You don’t want to bump them on the table.”
“Sounds like you have your hands full,” Isamu joked.
“He’s a delight and a sweet boy. A lot like you, actually,” Koharu laughed, “Goodness, it’s nice to have a little chaos in the house again. He’s so vibrant. Once he was washed up, we found pink feathers in his wings. He said his mother’s were the same color… That’s all he’ll say about her, but that’s alright. He just needs time and a little love and care.”
“You and Dad have always had more than enough to give,” Isamu said with a grin.
“Hmm, he’s still a bit skittish around your father, but I’m sure he’ll warm up to him once he knows he’s safe. Poor child…” Koharu tutted softly.
There was a distant fluttering of wings and an excited yelp.
“Oh dear, he’s found the greenhouse,” Isamu’s mother giggled, “Oh! Hatoko, dear - hold on, Isamu - Hatoko stay away from the kiwi. You’re allergic.”
“Aw! But it’s yummy!” Came the distant shout, “And my mouth didn’t itch that long…”
Isamu snorted and suppressed a laugh, “Good luck. Can’t wait to meet my new foster brother.”
“Thanks, Isamu. I’m sorry, I’ll call you again later. Have fun at your new place!” Koharu laughed again, and placed her hand over the receiver, “Hatoko, that’s not how allergies work…”
“Talk with you and dad later. Love you, mom.”
Koharu paused and took a steadying breath, “I love you too, Isamu. Take care of yourself, okay?”
Isamu smiled, looking out over the balcony, “I will. I promise.”
His mother sighed on the other end, “Thank you. Bye, honey.”
He nodded, “Bye, mom.”
Hanging up, Isamu stretched his arms and took several deep breaths. He frowned and twisted at the waist, rubbing his side when it pulled.
I really am lucky. This… His fingers traced the outline of his scar - a pale asterix dimpling the skin under his shirt - and he reached around his back, feeling at the smaller exit wound. He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. I’m lucky to be alive. And here.
Isamu shook off the inkling of uncertainty and collected his bathroom supplies. There was still more unpacking to do.
Toshinori walked across campus, his stride long but still uneven - crutches clicking on the sidewalk. His breath puffed in barely visible clouds, the air crisp but not uncomfortable.
Tail flicking in agitation, he frowned at his fractured hock. The urge to jog, to run, to leap itched at the back of his mind.
Huffing, he kept up his hobbling pace.
At least it isn’t throbbing anymore.
A cold wind rushed through the nearby wooded area, leaves rustling and fluttering to the ground. Toshinori shivered, and his hackles bristled as the wind blew through his light jacket, nipping at the bare skin of his tail.
“Goodness, it’s brisk!” He sped up and ducked into the live-in staff building. Rubbing at his arm, he pulled out his phone, double checking his texts.
[All Might, would you meet me at my new apartment? Staff apartments, room 306. There’s something I’d like to give you.]
[Ah, and please bring your shed spike!]
Toshi brushed his hand over his breast pocket - the small spike still sat at the bottom.
Curiosity put a hop in his step that had nothing to do with his crutches as he ducked into the elevator and walked down the third floor hall.
“Three .. ‘o six,” Toshinori murmured, stopped at the door. He raised his fist to knock, and paused. A lopsided smile twitched on his face as he knocked.
Isamu swung open the door, looked up and grinned, “You got my text!”
“I did,” Toshinori replied, stepping into Isamu’s apartment when he held the door open, “Sorry I took so long getting here.”
Isamu waved off the apology, “No, please. You’re still on crutches.” He moved further into his apartment, “I just unpacked my cups. Do you want something to drink?”
“Just water, if that’s alright,” Toshinori said.
Glancing around, he grinned at the simple setup of the apartment. A couch, loveseat, and coffee table sat in the living room. Dappled sunlight shined through the balcony doors and dotted the walls and floors. A few collapsed cardboard boxes leaned against the wall, and a pair of boxes still sat half full of miscellaneous objects.
Toshinori smiled softly, tail wagging.
“Looks like you’re getting settled in nicely,” he said.
Isamu emerged from the kitchen with two cups of water, “There’s still some work to, but yeah. It’s exciting.” He set the glasses down and gestured to the couch, “Please, sit down. I just need to grab some supplies. You brought your spike?”
“Yes, I did,” Toshinori fished it from his pocket as he sat and held it up. The cream color had faded a little but the rippling base was still the same light brown.
Isamu nodded eagerly, “Fantastic.”
Toshinori grinned as Isamu darted off, footsteps thudding dully against the hardwood floor.
“When I heard that spike fell out - Well, I thought it was time to show you this,” Isamu called from down the short hall. He reemerged with an old, wooden chest. It was ornately carved on all sides, little relief carved gardens stood out from the dark polished wood. It rattled faintly as Isamu set it on the coffee table and sat beside Toshinori.
“Back before the appearance of quirks, my family passed down a tradition of carving. Wood mostly, but when our quirk emerged in the family line -” Isamu unlatched and opened the lid - “We added bone as a carving material.”
Toshinori’s ears perked as he stared at the contents of the small chest. On one side lay a carefully wrapped tool roll. Isamu lifted it from the chest and unrolled it. Carving tools with worn wooden handles peeked from their individual pockets. Then he reached back in and gently lifted a larger roll. It rattled softly as Isamu unrolled a portion of it.
Shed spikes were tucked into velvety sleeves, each ornately carved, some with dark resin filling the grooves. Isamu slipped one from its sleeve and held it out to Toshinori.
“It became tradition to carve our shed spikes,” Isamu explained, laying the carved spike on Toshinori’s palm.
The spike was nearly the length of Toshinori’s palm and as thick as his thumb. The relief carved image wrapped around the length of the spike . Toshinori carefully rolled it, following the image down to the base.
His tail twitched as his brows rose, “Is this me?”
Isamu grinned bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck, “Y-yeah. I would have given it to you sooner but it was probably my most complex carving to date.”
Toshinori stared at the spike, rolling it across his palm. The image was of him running, starting with his clawed hand on the base, continuing with his body winding up and around the middle of the spike. His tail twisted toward the top, the tuft of his tail curling and fluffing at the tip. His names - both his given name and hero title - were engraved in the sides along with what looked like billowing clouds. It shone faintly in the dappled light, polished in a clear coat.
“It’s incredible,” Toshinori breathed, running the back of his capped claw down the side.
Toshinori suddenly jolted, and his gaze snapped to Isamu, “Wait. You said ‘give’?”
Isamu grinned and bowed his head, fingers still tracing around the divots in the back of his neck, “That’s part of the tradition. We keep most of our own shed, but some are given as gifts to people close to us, usually family. And well, after what - after all that’s happened … You have my quirk and… some of my DNA. That kind of counts as family, right?”
“I…” Toshinori huffed a disbelieving laugh, reaching back and tracing the spikes on his neck with his claws.
Isamu smiled, gesturing to his neck, “You’ve even got my nervous tick.”
Toshinori’s hand froze on the second spike, and his cheeks reddened. Grinning, he barked a laugh, “I suppose I do!”
Returning his hand to his lap, his tail thumped against the couch, and he turned the carved spike in his palm, “Thank you, Isamu.”
Reaching out, Isamu nodded toward Toshinori’s shed spike, “Could I see yours?”
Toshinori passed over the smaller spike with a nod, and watched curiously as Isamu pulled a few measuring tools from his tool roll.
“My family’s always made a big deal about our first sheds,” Isamu explained. He pulled out a few smaller tools and a small table clamp, “The very first spike is always made into a pendant. Yours is -” he laughed softly - “a bit bigger than the usual first baby spike but that actually makes working with it easier. If you would like me to get it started for you, that is.”
“Please,” Toshinori urged with a grin, ears perked in fascination, “It was originally your quirk so -”
“It’s your quirk,” Isamu interrupted. Looking down, he nodded to himself and clutched Toshinori’s spike, “It is my family’s quirk, and now it’s your quirk… I hope our tradition can be yours too.”
“Of course,” Toshinori said softly, brows raised. His tail wound around Isamu’s waist and squeezed gently. Running his claws over Isamu’s carved spike, he released an awed sigh and said, “I’m honored you would share this with me, Isamu. Please, continue.”
Isamu placed his hand on Toshinori’s tail and let out a shaky sigh, “Thank you.”
Toshinori watched as Isamu set up the small clamp and lined up the small spike between the vise jaws. Secure, he drew a small circle on the base and pulled up a small hand drill.
Checking the narrow bit, Isamu glanced up at Toshinori, “I’ll get the pendant hole drilled, then you can decide how you want to carve it. I’ll teach you.”
Souma shifted uncomfortably under the low glow of the morgue’s flickering lights. He checked his watch and cursed quietly, dropping his naked wrist.
The Doctor had taken his watch away, a punishment for not cooperating despite his kindness in allowing Souma to keep his street clothes. That had been six ignored meals and several sleep cycles ago.
Whatever that means, he thought bitterly, steam puffing out of his mouth as he sighed.
His life revolved around the clock. Wake up at 5AM. Eat, shower, dress, and be out the door by 6:30AM. Arrive at work between 7AM and 7:05AM depending on the train and the pedestrian traffic. Check delivery lists after clocking in, and organize the most efficient routes for the day. Pick-ups began at 9AM, so there was time to pick up the company truck, top off the gas, and drive to the suppliers. The small truck was easy to fill with one supplier’s goods in under thirty minutes. Then it was on to the next and the next. By noon the truck would be full, and Souma would return to his building where the supplies would be unloaded and repackaged for individual hero offices by the sorting staff. While they worked, Souma went on his hour lunch break and ran his errands. At 1:30PM, he was back to work and delivered the repackaged supplies to the hero offices that ordered them. Then it was back to his office to log in the successful deliveries, check emails, file any necessary reports, and clock out at 4pm.
This place with no windows, no watch, no clock, and sporadic visits from the Doctor was a nightmare.
Movement caught Souma’s eye, and he looked up.
Mirai waved from her cell, then carefully signed, “You need to eat. Keep up your strength.”
Souma grimaced and glanced at the tray of food to his left, ignoring the empty ache in his stomach. He shuddered and signed slowly - his hands trembling as his stomach clenched, “Why? We’re trapped.” He shook his wrist and gave the chains a weak tug to emphasize his point.
Mirai frowned stubbornly, leaning forward and pressing her hand on the glass between them, “Because we need to escape. Please… ” Her eyes squeezed shut, and she inhaled sharply, hissing through her teeth. She pressed her free hand to the mahogany brown horns jutting out from her forehead. They shifted, visibly growing longer, and curved over her hairline. They were almost a half-circle now.
Mirai shivered and pointed to her lips, “Sorry. I’m tired too… But please, don’t give up, Souma. If you give up, that bastard wins.”
Souma rubbed at his stomach, giving the food a sour glance, “And if it’s poisoned?”
“I don’t think he wants to poison us,” Mirai shook her head slowly, a hand steadying her horns, “Eat.”
“Fine,” he signed sharply.
For you. And a chance to get at that doctor.
Souma’s hands shook as he ripped open the packaging for one of the sandwiches he was given, and gave Mirai a look before taking a bite.
“See? Eating.” Souma huffed even as relief washed through him and raised his brows in question, “Happy?”
“Yes,” She smiled and nodded, signing a clear, “Thank you."
Making quick work of the sandwich, Souma tossed the wrapping on the tray and pushed the tray into the corner of his cell. He glanced at Mirai, catching her shivering again.
“Cold?” he signed.
Mirai rubbed her arms and nodded.
“Do you want some steam?” Souma asked, gesturing to the row of vertical slits in the cell’s glass near the floor.
Nodding again with some difficulty, Mirai snagged her thin blanket from the metal table serving as a cot and wrapped it around her shoulders. She moved close to the wall and held out her arms, elbows pressing against the glass and making an improvised tent.
Souma lowered himself onto his stomach and took a deep breath. Holding it, his lungs heated the steam building in his lungs. When his lungs burned, he pressed close to the vents and blew the steam through.
Mirai sighed in relief as she relaxed into the warmth trapped by her blanket.
Souma took another deep breath and blew more billowing steam through the vent -
Mirai’s hand slammed against the vents and patted frantically. Souma jerked back and looked up. Mirai pointed over his shoulder. He twisted to look, expecting the Noumu creature.
Instead, black ooze erupted midair in the next cell.
An older woman stumbled from the sludge, coughing as she collapsed to the floor.
Another!? Souma scrambled to the opposite wall, waving and knocking against the glass.
The woman coughed and gagged, shivering as she pushed herself to sit up. She looked around, grey eyes wide and half-moon glasses slipping down her narrow nose.
Souma waved again, and the woman turned to him.
She was petite, with a round, handsome face. Faint laughter lines crinkled around her eyes despite the shock and confusion shining in them. Her greying hair was pulled back in a loose braid that frayed in places where the locks were knocked loose. Thin hands clutched her thick, cable knit cardigan as she stared at Souma.
“Who…? What just happened?” she asked, leaning to look over Souma’s shoulder to Mirai’s cell. “Where am I?”
“I’m Deaf. Do you sign?” Souma asked quickly.
The woman stared at his hands, “Very little. Know… children’s books.”
Souma moved back, turning to Mirari, “Can you…?”
Mirai nodded, then waved at the woman.
“Can you hear me? What’s your name?” she asked.
Souma looked back to the woman as she glanced between them.
“Y-yes… My name is Nozomi Shishiki,” she spoke clearly, lips easier to read than most. Nozomi pushed up her glasses, “Where … is this?”
Souma didn’t need to look back to know that Mirai began to explain. Nozomi’s reaction was more than enough. His heart ached as Nozomi’s eyes grew wide with horror, hands covering her mouth as she shook her head. Shivering, she pulled her cardigan tighter around her bony shoulders and folded in on herself.
Then Souma spotted her watch.
He scrambled forward, tapping urgently on the glass, then spun, signing frantically at Mirai, “Her watch! Tell her to hide it!”
Mirai jolted and nodded, glancing at the door.
“Nozomi, listen,” Mirari pressed her hands to the glass, “You need to hide your watch. He takes them away.”
Souma looked back at Nozomi, heart hammering in his chest.
Nozomi frowned, but she unbuckled her watch. Clutching it close to her chest, she scanned her small cell, twisting uncertainly. She paused, gaze lowering to the vents, and then she looked up and met Souma’s gaze.
She bit her lip, then held out the watch, “You take it.”
Souma nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was an analog watch with the time and day.
Nozomi moved forward and carefully threaded the watch through the gaps in the vents. It was thin and small, the tan leather strap barely as wide as Souma’s pinkie finger. Souma pulled the watch through, reverently cradling it in his palm.
Thursday. 10:37am.
It’s been almost four days since I was taken. Okay. Okay.
“Thank you,” Souma signed with one hand.
Scooting back and crossing his legs, he looked around the cell, leaning to feel under the metal table serving as his bed.
No ledges or crevices… He did a final cursory glance around his cell and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Not the most comfortable hiding place, but…
He blushed, turning away from the older woman, and slipped the watch down his shirt and shoved it under his binder.
Mirai caught his eye and signed discreetly, “Maybe we can take turns hiding it. Just in case you… need a break.”
Souma smiled wryly, awkward resignation fluttering in his gut at the thought of changing out of his binder in front of another stranger. Despite his anxiety, he pulled at his shirt and sighed, “... Fair enough.”
We’re all stuck here together anyway.
Rubbing his arms, he held his breath until his core temperature was pleasantly hot. He exhaled steam through his nose and watched the clouds expand and rise in the chilly prison. The small watch ticked against Souma’s heart, a calming constant that cleared his head.
He turned his attention to the door across the room - the only way out.
I’ll figure out that Doctor’s schedule. So far, it’s just been him.
One man. One routine.
If… Souma glanced at Mirai and Nozomi, If one of us could escape…
His stomach growled, and his cheeks reddened. Scooting over, he leaned back against the back wall and grabbed the second wrapped sandwich left on the tray.
He waved to Mirai, “Tell her… about the noumu creature. There might be a way to get past it. I’m thinking.”
Mirai’s eyes widened and she nodded, turning her attention to Nozomi.
No one deserves this. He munched on his sandwich, thinking of their escorted - seemingly random - bathroom breaks and formulating plans, I’ll get back at him.
The Doctor brushed black transmission ooze from his coat and glanced around. He was in the morgue hall, just outside his subjects’ room. By the sound of scrambling on the other side of the door, Ogawa and Shimeno had discovered their new neighbor.
“Doctor.”
The Doctor turned.
All for One sat back, hands folded loosely in his lap.
“I take it your errand was successful,” he said.
“It was,” the Doctor confirmed casually. He took his place behind All for One and began to roll him back to his temporary living space.
“We’re halfway through collecting these subjects. I won’t be imposing upon you much longer, Sensei,” he said, voice bouncing faintly down the blue-grey tiled halls.
“Imposing?” All for One hummed and chuckled darkly, “No. You would know if I felt you were imposing.”
The Doctor shivered, grinning at the rush of adrenaline. The ancient man would never admit it - perhaps kill anyone who’d insinuate it - but the Doctor knew transmitting multiple people drained his energy.
“I’m certain I would,” he said, rolling All for One into his room.
He made careful work of hooking All for One back to his life support systems. Once finished, he returned to the door, “I have my subjects to tend to. Excuse me.”
All for One inclined his head and turned to the specialized monitors with practiced ease, dismissing him without a word.
Once out of the room, the Doctor chuckled, reaching into his pocket as he stepped down the quiet hall.
He’s in a better mood. The change of scenery probably helped.
The benefit of Jedha Central Hospital was its age. It was originally a mission hospital opened in 1902 and grew into a large teaching hospital. After the emergence of quirks and the increased need for medical study and attention, it was renamed and doubled in size to accommodate the variety of quirks.
The Doctor shook his head in awe. Due to a certain donor years and years ago, several of the older buildings were left mostly unchanged.
Including the old teaching mortuary.
The Doctor leisurely flipped through his keys, selecting one and unlocking the third door on the right.
“Hello again,” he said as he swung open the heavy door, “Have you warmed up to your new accommodations?”
The two residents of the room looked up from their places on the floor.
“Screw you, asshole,” Shiga spat, standing in his cell. Dual chains hung from his wrists and attached to the back wall.
The Doctor suppressed a smile and turned his attention to the clipboard dangling from the front of the man’s cell.
-
Kousuke Shiga. 48.
Medical History: Appendix removed at 16. Broken right arm twice.
Allergies: Soy and peanut intolerance.
Quirk: “Thorny Body” - Produces thorn-like protrusions made of keratin from his skin where hair is present.
-
Glancing up, the Doctor took note of the small, dark thorns dotting the man’s arms and fists.
Could use some enhancement, he thought, mildly disappointed at the thorns’ size, Nothing I can’t fix.
He replaced Shiga’s chart and lifted the one hanging from the neighboring cell.
-
Tayori Yamadori. 64.
Medical History: Birthed three children. Fractured hip in a rock climbing incident. Hysterectomy.
Allergies: N/A
Quirk: “Language of the Birds” - Ability to understand and command birds. The more intelligent the bird, the better the communication.
-
Inside her cell, Yamadori sat in a seiza with her eyes shut, and her dark calloused hands lay neatly folded in her lap. Her breathing was slow and even despite the shackles circling her wrists and the racket from her neighbor.
“Hey! Look at me, yah prick!” Shiga roared, straining against his chains, “Let me out so I can kick yer ass!”
The Doctor considered the man. Short in stature but broad with muscular arms and back. Physical traits that were handy for a deep sea fishing, crabbing, and construction - a few of the many odd jobs listed in his history.
He glanced back, gesturing toward himself, “Noumu.”
His masked noumu, N-057, jerked at the sound of his voice, and it stood. It lumbered over from the corner of the room, long arms swaying.
The Doctor held out his hand to halt it, and he walked over the the small cooler off to the side.
“I think you’re ready, Kousuke Shiga.” He reached inside and plucked a blood-filled vial from the rack.
“My name is Kou, yah fucking walrus,” Shiga snapped.
The Doctor prepared a syringe, tapping it as he turned and opened Shiga’s cell.
“Noumu, restrain him.”
N-057 darted into the cell, slamming into Shiga and pinning his arms roughly to his sides.
“Shit! Let go!” Shiga shouted, baring his teeth. Half-inch thorns spread down his arms and beneath N-057’s hands.
Not that the thorns would pierce the noumu’s Tough Skin Quirk.
Shiga bucked under N-057’s grip, “Get OFF!”
“Kou…”
The Doctor looked over.
Yamadori stood, her knotted hands curled in fists at her side, “Please, don’t hurt him.”
“That all depends on him,” the Doctor stated flatly, “Noumu.”
N-057 loosed a gurgling screech and gripped tighter until Shiga cried out in pain and finally stilled.
“That’s more like it,” the Doctor smiled, brandishing the filled syringe.
“Don’t yah touch m- Ah!” Shiga grit his teeth as the noumu squeezed his arms in warning.
The needle slipped into Shiga’s skin with ease, and a jolt of anticipation rushed through the Doctor’s veins as he pushed the plunger.
How will you adapt? How will you change? Will your mind survive like his?
Grinning, the Doctor pulled the emptied syringe from Shiga’s deltoid. He stepped back out of the cell, “Noumu, come.”
N-057 shoved Shiga back and stepped out of the cell.
The Doctor closed the cell door, the automatic lock clamping shut.
“What did you just do to me?” Shiga growled, but the Doctor could hear the trembling of his breath.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” the Doctor replied with a smug grin.
How long? How long?
He was eager to find out.
Waiting is always the hardest part.
Shiga rubbed at the injection site on his arm, and Yamadori pat the wall between them as if the action could comfort him.
“Fuck you, yah shit doctor,” Shiga spat, brown eyes hard with rage, “It don’t matter when, the moment I get the chance I’m knockin’ out yer teeth.”
Antagonistic. Stubborn. The Doctor recorded the Quirk injected and the time on Shiga’s chart, Like him then. That’s promising. He may flourish.
The Doctor then shrugged with a grin and turned away, “Noted. Have fun nursing your own wounds, Kousuke.”
“It’s Kou!” Shiga roared.
The Doctor shut the door without a backward glance.
Sighing satisfactorily, he straightened his coat and continued down the hall.
“One last task,” the Doctor hummed, flipping to his next key.
Souma Ogawa, Mirai Shimeno, and Nozomi Shishiki looked up and tensed. Each displayed slightly varied reactions. Ogawa stood and glared. While he could not stand in front of the two women, he moved to the front of his cell - as if that would be enough to shield the others. He, like Shiga, was short in stature, but broad. His legs and arms were muscled and toned from lifting daily orders of hero support items. An asset in his favor during the Doctor’s selection process.
He would likely not see it that way, the Doctor thought with quiet satisfaction. He’d chosen well. Ogawa was a prime candidate.
-
Souma Ogawa. 24.
Medical History: Born deaf in both ears like his parents. Regular use of prescribed hormones to aid in transition. Asthma which all but disappeared after the development of his quirk. Broken wrist at 17.
Allergies: Mild cat allergy.
Quirk: “Blow Off Steam” - Ability to exhale hot steam. Limited to lung capacity. The stronger the emotions and/or the longer the breath is held, the hotter the steam. Can cause 2nd degree burns.
-
The Doctor turned his attention to the far right cage and suppressed a grin.
Shimeno’s reaction was far more promising. While she did not rise to her feet, Shimeno kept a sharp eye on the Doctor as he moved to the table to pull Shishiki’s file. More than that, she kept her horns facing him.
A natural show of defense from someone with that kind of quirk.
Behavioral adaptation to the Ram Horn quirk. Interesting. It’s settling in surprisingly well. The Doctor clasped his hands together, Perhaps there is benefit in not drugging them.
He needed to update her file.
-
Mirai Shimeno. 32.
Medical History: Use of generic anti-vertigo medications. All vaccinations up to date.
Allergies: Sulfa allergy.
Quirk: “Fast Forward” - Ability to see into own future from the 3rd person in fast forward. Limit 6 hours ahead. Causes vertigo if used too often, used to look too far, used to search slowly for details.
Quirk(s) Added: “Ram Horns” - Curved, bony protrusions grown from the forehead - resembling ibex horns. They will continue to grow in length, but can be trimmed to make them manageable.
-
Once the Doctor collected Shishiki’s files, he attached them to a clipboard and hung it from the door of her cell.
Shishiki struggled to stand, still disoriented from the Transmission quirk and her current situation.
-
Nozomi Shishiki. 57.
Medical History: Multiple x-rays as a child. Pronounced infertile after a miscarriage.
Allergies: N/A
-
The Doctor hung the clipboard on the outside of Shishiki’s cell, his fingers brushing over the last filled box.
-
Quirk: N/A
-
He turned away in order to hide his grin and returned to the fridge.
Quirkless. Just like you, All Might.
The Doctor, eager to change that, rummaged through the selection of vials. He paused.
But it isn’t your turn, Shishiki.
He settled on one and plucked it from the rack, rolling it between his fingertips and smiling at the label. He reached in and pulled out Ogawa’s hormones, setting the smaller vial alongside the first and sterile wipes on a tray. He returned to the cells.
“Stand back from the door, Ogawa,” the Doctor ordered, hand hovering by the cell door latch.
Ogawa glared suspiciously back, signing sharply “Not going to sic your monster on me?”
“I’m not unreasonable,” the Doctor said with a smile, “I thought perhaps leaving Noumu out of this conversation would show that.”
“What do you want?” Ogawa asked, brows furrowed.
The Doctor gestured with the tray, “To give you your medication, of course.”
Ogawa eyed the vials, hands twitching and curling into fists. He looked up and glared, lips pressed in a firm line.
“And a little something else,” the Doctor continued, “You get both. Or neither. Your choice.”
“That’s not a choice,” Ogawa signed, teeth bared, “You know that’s not a choice.”
The Doctor shrugged, waiting patiently.
“No.”
Shimeno shook her head, realization dawning across her face. She waved and knocked frantically, “Souma, no! Leave him alone!”
Ogawa bit his lip, his hand running through his short auburn hair. He glanced at Shimeno, shivering in her cell.
The Doctor pounced, “You have something else you want? I can be… flexible.”
“How do I know you won’t go back on a deal?” Ogawa asked.
“I could, but I won’t. Trust is important between doctor and patient,” the Doctor replied easily, gesturing to either side of Ogawa, “If you refuse… There are others who can take your place.”
Ogawa’s eyes widened, and he grit his teeth, fists shaking. He rubbed at his arms, looking away - anywhere but the tray in the Doctor’s hands.
The Doctor suppressed a smile.
Sighing, Ogawa released a burst of steam that briefly clouded his cell. When the steam cleared, his shoulders slumped, and he took a half-step back.
“Excellent,” the Doctor reached for the handle, but paused when Ogawa held up his hand, “Oh? Changing your mind?”
“Let me inject my own hormones,” Ogawa signed forcefully.
“Hmm,” the Doctor smiled, “I could allow that. Under my direct supervision.” He nodded, “Alright, yes. Any other requests while we’re at it? Within reason of course.”
Ogawa blinked, caught off guard, and took another step back, “What?"
“You obviously haven’t cared for the food I brought - oh! Would you look at that, you have eaten. Good. But yes, special requests, extra privileges, et cetera. I am not unkind.”
The Doctor glanced at the other two, thankful their shock rendered them silent. He leaned forward, focusing on Ogawa, “It’s your choice.”
Ogawa swallowed roughly and frowned, looking to Shimeno who shook her head in warning. He gave her a weak grin and stood taller.
“Mirai… and Ms. Nozomi. Give them something warmer,” Ogawa signed carefully, “... It’s freezing in here.”
Easy.
The Doctor’s smile widened.
All for One was right. Those in the hero industry are just too easy to manipulate.
He gripped the cell’s doorknob firmly, as if shaking Ogawa’s hand, and nodded.
“Deal.”
Souma sat on his metal cot with his knees drawn to his chest. He rubbed at the site of the second injection and blew a puff of steam.
His skin crawled.
Hours had passed - exactly ten hours and twenty-four minutes - and both Mirai and Nozomi were asleep - bundled in thick blankets provided by… that doctor.
Trust.
Souma ran a hand through his hair and frowned, He’s being awfully ‘nice.’ I don’t like it, but perhaps we can take advantage of it.
Scratching behind his ear, Souma thought of their last escorted visit to the restroom.
That noumu creature… He frowned and scratched at his wrist, huffing with irritation, It doesn’t seem too… aware. If one of us could find a way to trap it…
Souma hissed under his breath, steam billowing from his lips, as the itch spread up his arm and down his back.
What the hell?
He looked down at his red, irritated skin and rubbed. White flakes peeled back and a shine caught the light.
He yelped.
“M-Mirai!”
Tears pricked in his eyes, and he slammed his knuckles against the glass, knocking furiously and jolting Mirai awake.
“Mirai! What is this!” He held up his arm, and tears streaked down his face as the unbearable urge to scratch nearly overwhelmed him.
Mirai blinked owlishly, rubbing at her eyes and staring down at his arm.
She looked up in shock, “Scales…?”
Souma’s breath caught.
He looked down and rotated his arm. It was the same light tan color as normal, but -
His chest burned, and he felt his cheeks heat up. Coughing, steam whooshed from his throat then stopped. He wheezed, core temperature still rising.
His breath quickened, but no steam came.
“Wrong!” He panted and signed frantically, “I feel -!”
The heat in his core bled to the rest of his limbs, and he stared at his arm in shock.
Faint trails of steam seeped from the - the scales on his arm.
The edges of his vision bled white, and he gasped for breath, surrounded by his own steam.
Hot…
He swayed and fell forward, hand and forehead pressed against the cool glass.
White and gray filled his line of sight.
Too hot...
His lower back ached.
Water…
Toshinori frowned, scrolling through his phone, and glanced at the upper right corner of the screen.
3:28AM.
Kicking off his covers, he huffed, turned onto his stomach, and propped himself up onto a few pillows. His tail flicked in irritation as he shook the thin blanket off his good foot, claws catching on the fabric.
He heaved a tired sigh.
Looks like I’m not getting sleep anytime soon.
He stared at the article on his phone, the headline a glaring red.
Breaking News! Another Abduction Leaves Strange Residue and Growing Unease
Is there a serial abductor in Musutafu? Police won’t confirm.
Another woman was abducted off the street, leaving only more of All for One’s transmission sludge on the sidewalk.
Naomasa called just before dinner to give Toshinori the news.
Nozomi Shishiki, a local librarian and after-school tutor for young children. She showed up for work in the morning, left for a late breakfast, and never returned to her desk. Her husband reported her missing when she didn’t come home or answer her phone that afternoon.
The police were taking missing persons cases more seriously, forgoing the standard 48 hour window. When they were informed of the new missing persons call, Naomasa’s team was deployed and found the transmission residue just outside the library staff exit.
Toshinori locked his phone and pressed the top of it against the deep crease in his brow. Glancing over to his desk, his crutches glinted sharply in the clear graytones of his room.
He grunted and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.
“I need some air…”
Grabbing his coat and a single crutch, Toshinori limped over to the sliding glass door and onto the balcony. He closed his eyes, leaning on the railing, and took several deep breaths of the crisp night air.
He sighed and frowned at his hock, itching to move.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another with this body.
He winced at the slip, running a hand through his hair, and he forced a smile, “My body.”
And what abouttheir bodies? A quiet voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Toshinori shoved his hands into his pockets, tail lashing.
Something sharp pricked the palm of his hand, and he frowned.
Curling his fingers, he felt a small business card and pulled it out curiously.
Ah… ‘William Howard Wright. Investigator.’ Toshinori read, recalling their brief conversation.
“We share a mutual interest it seems.”
Toshinori knew bait when he saw it. Regardless, the call to help pulled and pulled .
He tucked the card away and gripped the handrails.
Souma Ogawa. Mirai Shimeno. Tayori Yamadori. Kousuke Shiga. And now… Nozomi Shishiki.
He grit his teeth, Those are just the ones we know about. He may have taken even more!
How many quirks could the Good Doctor give them in the time they’d been missing?
How many more would he take?
How long…?
I have to find them. I can’t just-
He flinched as his tail crashed against the railing, the loud clang ringing out into the night air.
Shit. Shit. He looked around at the neighboring windows and sighed in relief when no lights turned on. Rubbing his sore tail, he squared his shoulders.
Naomasa is looking. He’s the best at what he does… and if he needs me, he’ll call.
Exhaustion weighed down his shoulders, but he smiled limping back into his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Toshinori pulled out his phone and turned up the volume, resting it next to his pillow.
He’ll call if he finds anything, like always.
Toshinori tossed his coat back onto his chair and sunk back onto his bed.
He’ll find them...
Until then, he would have to wait.
Unease stirred in his gut, and he rubbed at his wrists.
Waiting is always the hardest part.
Canvas 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
Catalyst 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
Control 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7
Collapse 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8
Contained 1 / 2 (WIP)
Find the whole series on Archive with fanart at the end of each chapter HERE!
Check out Aoi’s and my sideblog @toshinoumu for more series content!
#I Am... Series#Toshinoumu#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#aoimikans#swiftwidget#chapter 6#the waiting game#toshinori yagi#Collapse#naomasa tsukauchi#all for one#the good doctor#sansa tamakawa#isamu sato
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Designing for accessibility: From Frida Kahlo's corsets to Franklin Roosevelt's leg braces
New Post has been published on https://nexcraft.co/designing-for-accessibility-from-frida-kahlos-corsets-to-franklin-roosevelts-leg-braces/
Designing for accessibility: From Frida Kahlo's corsets to Franklin Roosevelt's leg braces
One in five Americans has a disability, whether it’s diabetes or Down syndrome, asthma or paralysis from a car accident. To make the most out of life, people invariably turn to design.
Built environments are one example of the power of accessible thinking. Small choices like curb cuts in a sidewalk or elevators in subway stations can make the difference between an individual in a wheelchair (or, for that matter, with a child in a stroller) making it to their destination safely—or at all.
But the design of more personal belongings—things we might even term “fashion”—matter, too. Access to affordable hearing aids is important, but wouldn’t it better if they were also beautiful? Ditto canes and prosthetics, velcro jeans and onesies with stomach flaps for a child’s feeding tubes.
People have always lived with disabilities (Hannibal, the ancient warrior, lost an eye). But orthopedics, prosthetics, and other compensatory tools have only improved since ancient Carthage—if you can afford it. Here, we’ve compiled the stories of some of history’s most famous individuals and the state-of-the-art tools they were able to access.
Gottfried von Berlichingen’s iron hands
“Götz,” as he was not-so-affectionately known, was a complicated man. Both a mercenary and a poet (his main literary contribution seems to be the invention of the phrase “lick my arse”), he fought in countless military campaigns and blood feuds during his 47-year career. For most of those years, he relied on an iron right arm.
It started in the 1504 siege of Landhut, when, depending on who you ask, cannon fire ripped his arm off at the elbow, or caused him to accidentally cut his arm off with his own sword. Determined to continue fighting (and, presumably, writing), the 23-year-old Götz commissioned an iron substitute.
The first replacement hand was a rather typical five-fingered affair. It bent slightly at the top of the palm to clumsily grasp a sword. But the second hand, commissioned some years later, was a serious upgrade. It could hold not only a sword, but the reins of a horse and even the thin tip of a quill. Its mechanical fingers bent, like human fingers, at three joints, curling ever-tighter around the object in question. This early masterpiece of biomimicry served “Götz of the Iron Hand,” as he became known, for the rest of his murderous career—and into a long and peaceful retirement where he made poetry, not war.
Peter Stuyvesant’s peg leg
The last Dutch director of New Amsterdam, Peter Stuyvesant’s name (pronounced “Sty-va-sent”) is still written all across the city now known as New York.
Born in 1610 in the Netherlands, Stuyvesant joined the Dutch West India Company as a young man. He was first stationed in Brazil, then in the Caribbean, which is where, in 1644, his leg was crushed by a cannonball and subsequently amputated below the knee. He returned briefly to the Netherlands to recuperate, but quickly began hatching new plans, motivated by the belief the loss of his leg was a sign from God that he was destined for greatness.
In 1645, he ventured to North America, with a wooden peg for a leg, which he reportedly studded with silver nails. He then spent the next 20 years harassing Native Americans, suppressing religions that differed from his own, and tending to a pear tree he brought from the motherland.
Helen Keller’s ocular prosthesis
When Helen Keller was just 19 months old, she contracted a life-threatening illness, probably meningitis or scarlet fever, that made her deaf and blind. As she grew, she used homemade signs to communicate (and eventually Braille, American Sign Language, and the English Alphabet), distinguished family members by the sound of their steps, and read people’s lips with her hands. In adulthood, she wrote a dozen books and was an international advocate for women’s suffrage and the rights of workers.
Looking through photos of Keller throughout her lifetime, attentive viewers will notice a subtle shift in the way she was portrayed. In her youth, Keller was mostly photographed in profile, a way of hiding her left eye. In later pictures, however, Keller faces the camera directly, revealing striking blue eyes. The difference was ocular prosthetics, which Keller had implanted when she was an adult.
Such prosthetic devices date back thousands of years. One ancient Iranian woman was buried in 2,900 BCE with an eye made of bitumen paste, coated in gold to look like the rays of the sun. For her part, Keller received spheres made of glass. Today, most artificial eyeballs are a convex sheet of acrylic with the pupil, retina, and even some capillaries painted on; the whole thing is placed over an orbital implant. Typically, these devices aren’t medically necessary. The rapper Fetty Wap for example, made the decision to stop using his prosthetic. But many continue to choose them for appearance and comfort. Others, like the glass artist Dale Chihuly, opt for eye patches.
Franklin D. Roosevelt’s leg braces and cane
Many American presidents have had disabilities. Bill Clinton wears hearing aids and Woodrow Wilson had dyslexia. Teddy Roosevelt was blinded in the left eye in a boxing match at the start of his second term, while Dwight Eisenhower had several heart attacks and strokes while in the White House, one of which caused aphasia, a form of brain damage that makes speech difficult. James Madison, one of the founding fathers, had a condition now thought to be epilepsy. But perhaps the president most closely associated with the rights of individuals with disability is Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
Roosevelt was diagnosed with polio at the unusual age of 39. The result was paraplegia—immobility that extends to the abdomen, pelvis, and legs. He was outfitted with full-leg special braces, which allowed him to stand. To keep upright, he also required a cane. When coupled with the arm of a family member or White House aid, the cane and braces allowed him to swivel his hips forward and give the illusion of walking in public, something he felt was important to maintaining his political legitimacy. The press was complicit in this; newspaper and magazine photographers agreed not to photograph him in a way that showed his physical disability. Secret Service agents were instructed to hassle deviant photographs and destroy any supposedly images that ran counter to the administration’s narrative.
Despite this, for much of Roosevelt’s adult life, he moved around in a custom wheelchair, which was really a narrow dinner chair retrofitted with wheels.
Frida Kahlo’s plaster corsets
In one quick sketch, Frida Kahlo imagined herself in a see-through dress. Beneath the outline of the traditional Mexican clothing, she revealed a hard corset holding her upper body together, a metal strip running from her belly button to her neck, her pubic hair exposed, and butterflies climbing up her leg. “Las apariencias engañan,” she wrote below: Appearances can be deceiving.
When Kahlo was six years old she contracted polio. It left her right leg shorter and weaker than her left. Then, at the age of 18, while studying to become a doctor, a wooden bus collided with a streetcar, sending an iron handrail through her pelvis. Both legs, several ribs, and her collarbone were also broken; three vertebrae were displaced. The incident, which left her bed-ridden for years, is also what made her an artist. She took up painting herself in her sickbed, using a mirror.
While she went on to travel widely, Kahlo needed support to get around. Between 1940 and 1954, she went through 28 different corsets, none of which seemed truly comfortable. Some were made from steel, but others were fashioned from plaster, which she painted with hammers and sickles (she was an avowed Communist) and compact fetuses (the accident left her unable to have children).
That’s not the only device Kahlo used to augment her body. In 1953, doctors amputated her right leg at the knee. Her prosthetic—and some absolutely incredible velvet platform shoes—are part of the Brooklyn Museum’s exhibit “Appearances Can Be Deceiving,” about her life and art. Part of the show’s goal, says Catherine Morris, one of the curators of the exhibit, is to reveal Kahlo in all her complexities.
“Too often she has been portrayed as a victim—of Rivera, of her disabilities, of her not having children. Kahlo’s complexity is her strength and her life experiences are what drove her art,” Morris wrote PopSci via email. “I also think it is important to acknowledge that typically able people often want to believe that those with disabilities overcome them—that somehow their humanity is outside of disability. Kahlo never overcame her disabilities, in fact she died from them, but what she produced and how she lived her life were fully attached to her experiences as a person with disabilities.”
Stephen Hawking’s wheelchair
Like Franklin Roosevelt, Stephen Hawking had a custom wheelchair. The late theoretical physicist was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease, in 1963 at the age of 21, which progressively paralyzed him. At first he used only crutches, but eventually required a wheelchair. It also made it more and more difficult for him to write or speak.
For a time, Hawking responded to spelling cards with his eyebrows, picking letters and words with little up and down movements. But in 1986, he used the computer program Equalizer for the first time, which allowed him to press a switch to select words or phrases. His friends rigged a computer to his wheelchair, so he could take the robo-translator with him. As he lost the ability to use his hands, he began to use his cheek. While the software updated many times over the years, the basic mechanics helped Hawking communicate until his death in 2018.
Written By Eleanor Cummins
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❝ No, I reject it because I do not believe in fairy tales about chakras or energy or the power of belief. We are made of matter and nothing more. You’re just another tiny, momentary speck within an indifferent universe. ❞
» Lucas Astor » Thirty-five » Witch » Unemployed » Charlie Cox
Physical Appearance —
Lucas doesn’t pick out his own clothing. He’s blind and when he was sighted, he didn’t care enough to do it. Therefore he looks very much like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. His wardrobe consists of well tailored suits, often in darker colors as he’s prone to dropping things or spilling them. He often tends to dress more on the formal side but treat his clothing like its meant to get dirty. Even his athletic clothing is more on the nice side, but just as prone to stains and getting dirty. His hypersensitivity means that the fabrics are very comfortable and soft. He has a very exorbitant dry cleaning bill. For the rest of his physical appearance it is very well maintained. His hair is trimmed and if he has scruff it’s intentional. His hands are often manicured, as too many callouses interferes with his magic. Lucas carries himself very well. This is both because his parents stressed proper posture and because he’s constantly adjusting his balance. Usually with the use of assistance of his magic. He’s a devotee of yoga, which he has found helps him immensely when it comes to dealing with the physical aspects of not being able to see the world. A very attractive man, he often has a smile on his face and cracks jokes a lot. Much of which was a front to cover up his trauma. Now a lot of it is just to get the upper hand with people. He enjoys being the smartest man in the room. Lucas is blind. His eyes do not function at all and are non-reactive to light. He has a scar that wraps around his eyes much like a blindfold. This is actually the physical manifestation of the protection spell he was trying to do, which backfired onto him. It blocked attempts at healing his eyes via magic until it was too late and the damage was permanent. The scar makes other witches uncomfortable as they recognize what it is and Lucas is careful to cover it with his sunglasses as much as he can. Lucas also always carries a collapsable cane. He’s discovered a way of ‘seeing’ that involves using the gravitational pull around him, but he has the cane to identify himself to others as a blind man.
Personality Traits —
♦ Innovative, genius and brave ♢ Ambitions, egotistical and selfish
Biography —
Lucas was born in two places at once. Quite accidentally (and unexpectedly) he was born on the border of Vermont and Montreal. Witches are fans of things like being two places at once, even if it’s on a technicality. In Lucas’ case, the additional clout was not even necessary. Lucas was born the only son of Michael and Sarah Astor, of the famed Astor Coven. As their only child, Lucas was heavily doted upon. As his skills improved, his sense of entitlement grew. His entitlement was matched only by his ambition. At first both were fostered by his parents and his elders, working to shape him into the leader they felt their Coven needed. Lucas largely grew up in the confines of the Coven, often dreaming of being somewhere else. Finally his parents decided to allow him to travel, hoping that seeing the world would quell some of the unrest that was driving him towards increassingly dangerous magic. No sooner did Lucas depart the Coven House than he ran into Natalie Mercier. The young hunter immediately caught Lucas’ eye. While his family name had been enough to get him most witch girls, it worked against him with the hunter. However he was still able to charm her, leading to them having a passionate relationship. The relationship culminated when Lucas, realizing his feelings and the danger she regularly faced, attempted to perform a spell to protect her. During an eclipse, Lucas touched primordial magic. Unable to handle it, the spell blew up in his face–quite literally. The large dose of solar radiation changed the chemicals in his eyes and made them phototoxic, destroying his vision.
Lucas was rushed to the hospital and healers were called in. However, the powerful protection spell had backfired and had the inadvertent effect of blocking any healing magic put on him. Or any magic at all. Eventually it was clear that anything more would risk him losing his eyeballs themselves. Unwilling to take that chance, he ordered the healings to stop. His parents were desperate to help him and found the best schools to teach him to function as a blind man. Lucas chose the one farthest away from them. Initially he was overcome with depression, leading to an almost sucessful suicide attempt. It was only when he felt his magic that he decided to try to live and only when he learned to read that he was fully committed to it. For eight years Lucas learned to and eventually functioned well as a blind man. His magic was severely crippled but still there, slowly coming back. However the curse had left him with severe scarring and as a constant reminder that magic was limited. Other witches looked at him as a cautionary tale and feared him due to his scars. Lucas slowly re-learned how to use his magic before declaring his intentions to resume his coven duties. His family decided that to do that, he would need to show he could function in their world. Not handicap friendly, he was tasked with figuring out how to read his family’s grimmoires.
Lucas figured out that most of the old ink had traces of iron in it. By magnitizing it he was able to raise the image off the page and manipulate it, creating an imprint. He learned to do the same with pencil, though the led in that proved to be harder to work with. Lucas went one step farther and actually translated the pages into braille, creating a much easier way for him to read the books quickly. Inadvertently and quite by accident, he found a cause that would continue for years to come: making the magical world more accessible. Within his own coven though he was largley viewed as a warning. The stigma he claimed to feel, however, was mainly in his head and due more to how he viewed himself than actual prejudice. On the contrary, in actuality Lucas’ parents were thrilled he was alive at all, a joy that far eclipsed the fact that their son happened to have a curse on his face. But Lucas’ own trauma eclipsed that and colored his view of the events, leading to him treating his parents coldly for many years and blaming them for his decision to spend time far away from his Coven. Eventually as his father’s health began to fail, Lucas began to step up his pace in order to be ready to take over. But he still found it difficult to access parts of his magic, attributing it to his own handicaps. The unseen force in all of this was, of course, love. The hunter Lucas fell for came back into his life, bringing with her issues he had never truly dealt with. But it became clear, even to him, that he had never truly moved on. This culminated when she disappeared and Lucas looked for her, finding her near death. Without a second thought Lucas reached for the same magic to heal her, pulling her back and at a heavy cost to himself. His coven found them and brought them back. It didn’t take long to see the connection and though he had refused to tell his parents or elders who the hunter was, they figured it out. In yet another desperate move to save her, Lucas confessed his love and their intention to marry. Attempting to call him on his bluff the elders agreed but if the wedding took place very soon. Within two weeks they were married. For two years their lives were happy. Blissful even. Then one morning Lucas woke to find her side of the bed empty. She was gone. For the past few years, Lucas has been focused singularly on becoming a leader for his Coven. He’s taken on more and more of his father’s duties and is finally beginning to understand that his own limitations are not as uncommon as he told himself they were. In the wake of the Skinwalker crisis, his father’s health has begun to decline rapidly. During what should have been an easy spell, his father lost control of it and it backfired quite badly, landing both him and Lucas in the hospital during the ball. While he’s been released, it’s becoming clear that his father will not be and after six years, Lucas is finally going to have to take control of it from him.
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