#kinesis face... i am the one on the right in both

[prncples]

[familylightfox]

     Several days had passed since the meeting. The situation seemed to have been going from bad to worse when the main computer had picked up a distress signal from Soleanna. By the time the call had been accepted, the gathered group that had come running got to see first hand what this virus was doing to those infected.

     So many horrified faces as their flesh converted to metal before their eyes. Nicole had cut the feed shortly after watching the newly made Robian start to tear apart the monitor to try to attack the screen they were on. Thank Chaos they couldn’t transfer the virus over the broadcast signal.

     “If it’s in Soleanna, it won’t take long to spread to the rest of Eurish and/or Yurashia.” A sad truth that Sally had found herself saying as she lifted her head. Blue eyes looked to those around her, the only one to return her eye contact was Volt as he stayed near the back of the group.

     But they all disbursed to go back to their work. Tails went to his workshop and Volt had been about to follow when she called his name. The tired eyes turned with his head, gritting his teeth at a new wave of pain.

     “I’d ask how you were holding up, but I think I can see my answer.”

     “If it wasn’t for the pain, it wouldn’t be so bad… How’s the recon missions going? Heard Harmony went with Silver, Whisper, and Tangle to see if they could find anything in Soumercia.”

     “So far there’s been nothing to report. Although they are spreading the word to any locals there of what to be on the lookout for. They left a few with devices to alert us if it spreads to that area, but with how quickly it looks like it’s spreading… I don’t even know if they would have time… But really Volt. How are you handling all this?”

     “I’m at least apparently in better shape than Blue, but at the same time… I’m not.” He used his cybernetic to gesture to his organic arm. Or what used to be his organic arm. The from just above his elbow to the tip of his claws, the metal limb hung lifelessly at his side. “The electricity in my body shuts down anything that’s been turn…”

     “But where does that leave you if it spreads too far?”

     “If the data I vas sent from Herr Tails is anything to go by… It vill kill him.” The soft voice interjecting into their conversation brought Volt’s cybernetic up as if to defend the princess. Thankfully the familiar golden fur and bright magenta sweater registered quickly enough that he dropped his hand.

     “Augustus? What are…”

     “Herr Tails sent for me. Vished for my help because of my studies in biomechanical engineering.” Ears folded back. The canine looked to the spreading virus sparking on Volt’s skin. “I did not have time to gather many of mein tools but I vill make due vith vhat you have here.”

     “What happened?” Volt had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

     “Our home has fallen to ze virus. I vas able to flee zhanks to Greta und mein vife.” The air grew heavy, Volt letting them image sink into his head before being shaken from his thoughts by clapping hands. “But ve vill get to ze bottom of zis und do vhat kleiner flaume alvays says, ja? Save ze day, ze Freedom Fighter vay?”

     All Volt could do is nod and lead his friend towards the workshop. One more mind working on finding a cure would speed up the process, right?

                                              ——————————

     But somehow Volt hated the conversation that had sparked after hours of study. So much so that he had barely managed to contain the growl of frustration as Augustus sat back in his chair at the table.

     “Vhat other options are zhere Voltage? It is only a matter of time before ze virus converts a vital organ…” While Volt grit his teeth, his eyes followed to where his friend was gesturing. The glaring metal flesh that had been attempting to creep across his torso so dangerously close to doing just that. “If ve place you in suspended animation, it should be able to buy us time to continue to vork vithout vorry… Please. Consider your health… und how Harmony vill react if something happens to you.”

     “I know!” The bark had come out harsher than he intended, Tails looking over as the light flickered above them. Volt once more grit his teeth, looking at his lap while getting lost in his thoughts. His cybernetic pressed against his knee, keeping from breaking skin but still leaving small indents from his finger pads.

     “I know… but how the hell will you guys study the effects…” Volt paused, recognition registering in his eyes as he looked between his two friends. “Do you have that inhibitor collar handy?”

     “You can’t be serious Volt.” It hadn’t taken Tails long to figure out what the older hybrid was getting at. “Even if we did, do you really think we’d use something like that on you when you’re like this?”

     “Yes, I am and yes, I do.” Meeting the blue eyes, gestured to the electricity sparking from his body. “It’s my Kinesis attacking the virus and me in the process. Take that out of the picture and you can both study the conversion in real time. Just put me in a containment cell for the time being and you’ll have someone you can test the cures on.”

     “Volt, seriously?” As Tails quirked an eyebrow, he just shook his head. “Even if we did that. There’s still no guarantee that it would work. You’re putting way too much at risk. Think of Harmony for Chaos’ sake.”

     “I am. She’s out there trying to save the day like she’s always wanted.” His cybernetic raised to rest on the center of his chest. “The least I can do since I’m pretty much stuck here anyway is give you a safe way to continue to study and test against this… Please.”

     Both canines fell silent, looking to one another before turning their gaze back to the hybrid. His eyes pleaded his case, and Tails let out a sigh. As he turned back to the computer he was working on, his words were far more quiet.

      “Let us think on it, okay? Give us till morning and use that time to talk to Harmony. I’m sure she’ll want a say in this too.”

     “Fine...”

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Anxious Skies

I present to you Kinesis: Chapter 28, please feel free to look for all previous and future chapters on my Master List and under the “Kinesis” tag :) Love you all!

Warnings: none

[MC]

Anxious Skies

Preparations for the war effort were well underway and in their final stages. With you looking like yourself again, all the work in town was reassigned to Ranmaru and Motonari. This left Gael, Mitsuhide, and you to work out supplies, weapons, and infiltration while everyone gathered their troops and prepared to wage war. The idea was for everyone else to get their forces together, and take control of their respective cities. 

Masamune had already seized control of Gomphrena before your scuffle in the woods, so he was put in charge of starting small border skirmishes to keep everyone on edge. Kenshin and Shingen were able to take back Delphinium within a week of returning, and they were rapidly gaining support and numbers. As of two days ago, a missive had been received stating that Nobunaga had secured Solidago from imperial command. All that was left was you. 

Gaels’ idea was to concentrate on the rebellion forces on Larkspur. After capturing each of the other individual cities, the pressure would be enough to cause a panic. Become a significant enough threat they couldn’t afford to ignore. If we did everything right, Olexy would have no other option than to send out soldiers to fortify the border, leaving him and the city relatively unguarded to inside threats. 

Your mind raced as you finished gathering your supplies for the days to come. Unable to sleep, you ran through the best and worst-case scenarios over and over until you were nearly pacing the room. What exactly were you getting yourself into?

With a deep sigh, you gave up on sleep and rolled off the bed, opening your window to climb out onto the roof of Ranmaru’s safe house. Taking a moment to get as comfortable as possible before laying down to stare at the moon. Your brain hurt. It was almost time to execute this plan to remove Olexy from power, but part of you still doubted your memories. Were they real? Were you really Rhian (YN) Kadupal, heir to the Anthurium throne? Or were you just a puppet with implanted memories and experiences? You could remember not remembering so clearly, and it gave you a headache just thinking about it. What if none of this was real? What if you were only being used?

Panic rose in your chest, and you closed your eyes, trying to push the thoughts from your mind. Of course, those were your real memories, they had to be. You could feel the authenticity, the emotion behind everything you remembered. A breeze blew past, and you shivered, not a moment later, a heavy blanket was laid out on top of you, and the wood of the roof creaked to your left.  

“Something on your mind Mouse?” Mitsuhide asked, only the hint of a smirk on his face. “It’s dangerous for you to be out here, you know.”

“I know, I just needed some fresh air.” You sighed, sitting up to lean against his shoulder. “Am I really Rhian.”

Mitsuhide stiffened beside you before he shifted his body and leaned away from you. “I hope so. Why do you ask?”

“That wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for, you know.” You sighed as the throbbing behind your right eye picked back up. “Sometimes I just wonder, yanno? I can remember not remembering so easily, and it just feels weird, I guess.”

He hummed in response before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer against his side. “I could pick your brain if you wanted. It’d be easy to tell if what you’re remembering is real or not. Though I can assure, you are who everyone says you are.”

You found yourself smiling, Mitsuhide had a way of surprising you. He wasn’t always this sweet, only when he felt you needed it, but that’s what made moments like this so special. That was why you liked him so much.

“Then, please assure me.” You rested your head against the shoulder he had unwittingly offered to you and hummed, content. “Tell me. How can you be so sure that I am me?”

“I’ve had an inkling since the moment you called my plan to send you to Larkspur stupid.” Mitsuhide chuckled. “I’ve become increasingly confident in your identity; the more time I spend with you. Your mannerisms, the way you look at the world, how you treat people, everything is as it always has been.”

“Ahh, I see. We did spend a good amount of time together, didn’t we?” You asked. 

“We did.” He responded confidently. 

“We’re infiltrating the castle tomorrow.” You stated.

“We are.” Was the only response you got.

“It’s going to be dangerous.” You pushed.

“That it is. Might you be scared Mouse? In need of my company?” Mitsuhide teased, a triumphant smirk on his lips.

“Not scared, whatever happens, happens, I guess. I’ve not got much to lose at this point.” You shrugged hugging your knees to your chest. “Though I could always use your company.”

You were confident that even if you failed this time, Nobunaga wouldn’t leave things as they were. Eventually, Olexy would be overthrown, and the Old One’s would bestow these powers on someone deserving of the title. Sure it would be perfect if you could get your revenge the same time you took back the country for your people, but this was real life, and you had to have realistic expectations. This could go very poorly, you knew that, and you were prepared for it. 

“What about you?” You asked, catching the far off look on Mitsuhide’s face. “Scared? Looking to accompany me.”

“Not scared. Unlike you though, I fear I have much to lose tomorrow, which is why I would like to take you up on that offer to accompany you.” Mitsuhide’s eyes were serious. 

“Oh? That’s good.” You tried to smile, but something tugged at your heart. Mitsuhide had something to live for, maybe someone to live for. That should make you happy but instead made your heart race unpleasantly in your chest, so you pressed him further. “Might I ask what it is you have to lose?”

It was quiet for a very long time, crickets chirped and the leaves on the trees rustled. It was a peaceful moment, even if it was a little awkward. Had you gone too far? Was that question inappropriate? Oh gods, what had you just done? Before your thoughts could spiral any further out of control, Mitsuhide hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your face until you were eye to eye. 

“You Rhian. I could lose you.” Mitsuhide’s voice came out soft, but his eyes were sharp, earnest in his confession. 

“That’s not a funny joke.” You choked out, your heart doing backflips in your chest. 

“It’s not a joke.” His voice was sweet, and his eyes tender as he continued. “I will not make the same mistake again, I refuse to let you disappear from my sight and my life.”

“You mean it? Like really, really mean it?” A smile broke across your face. 

“Why would I lie about something like tha-” Mitsuhide never finished his sentence. 

Your hands flew around his neck as you tackled him to the roof, there was a surprise ‘oof’ before it morphed into a muffled moan. Your lips were on his in an instant, and he offered a long drawn out kiss in return. Breaking away you peppered his face with a kiss after kiss only stopping when a whistle could be heard from the street. 

“Take it inside kids!” Motonari yelled before he roared with laughter, the sound only stopping once he was well inside the house. 

“So what do you think? Wanna take this inside?” You wiggled your eyebrows sitting up as you straddled his waist. 

“Please.” His response was breathy. Not giving you a moment to stand before he hauled both of you up off the roof and back into the house. 

[chopper-witch]

Cost of Creation: Noble versus Nature

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Other characters: Frigga, Loki, you, your parents I made up, Fandral, Volstagg, Thor, Sif and her mother that I made up.

Locations: This town I made up :) Völuspá (in Asgard), the Capital

Things/words to know:

For aging since we know nothing, I’m making them age the initial 18 years for 50 years (so 50 equates to 18) and then they age slow as shit.

Völuspá is the first poem in the Poetic Edda and basically is about a völva (seeress) telling Odin about the world’s creation and end. So I used it as the name of sacred grounds of Asgard.

Veleda is what germanic tribes referred to as a highly respected seeress

Fjalltindr is basically an adjective for mountain/hills.

Word Count: 3,000+

Summary: You and Loki approach 19; you venture outside the Völuspá for the first time

A/N: Pretend your parents have other names (in this case their names are Lifa and Mikkel). As usual all mistakes are mine. :)

CoC masterlist

Previous

____

Every Saturday and Sunday Loki came down with Frigga to the Völuspá. And every Saturday and Sunday the two of you learned and practiced together. Everyone else in the Völupsá is older than both of you, so your training is always quiet, nice, and filled with a little too much trouble. 

The first weekend the two of you trained together was… odd. You could already do so much and Loki had no clue what he even was supposed to possibly do - he had only seen the small tricks of his mothers to distract he and his brother on occasion. 

The two of you were left alone under the shade of the ancient Yggdrasil tree while your parents and Frigga were off to do something. Since the tree is the center of the Völupsá, it is the center of all the magic in Asgard and is where every connection to seiðr begins. Its roots lead down to Mimir’s Well, a small staircase carved beside the roots with a door near the base of the tree. 

You were sitting against said door, fingers tracing the old carvings in the roots that have worn into unreadable runes over the years. After only a few minutes you had begun to grow bored, eyes rolling at Loki’s little balled fist as he angrily repeats the spell on the page before him. So you began to shift the leaves on the ground to butterflies, different shades of blue and green and ensuring they flew to his hair and stuck in his black locks. 

“How are you already so good?” Loki demanded to know as he gave up a moment, swatting the butterflies away. 

“What do you mean how am I already so good?”

“Well I mean you are already making butterflies out of leaves and I can’t even turn a page!”

“I was born here, I was born down in the Well, and I’m a descendant Seiðrine. I’ve been doing magic since I was born, I have over a decade on you.” 

Loki huffed. “Well I’m going to be as good as you one day.”

“I hope so, otherwise I’ll be quite alone here.”

And after that woeful first day when it took far too long for him to even begin, most of your lessons were more equal. And while most things you both are learning for the first time or things Loki studied more during the days in which he was supposed to be doing his normal schooling, there is one thing you have already masted well beyond your age: telekinesis. Which always causes problems whenever you two are by any sort of water since your favorite thing to control is water; freezing splashes and drops in midair. It’s a struggle to explain why this is general telekinesis and not a specific type of kinesis to Loki who is just now learning magic at all. It does, however, give your father an idea of what the gift you will be receiving during your 50th birthday ceremony will most likely be. 

He was always immensely proficient at shapeshifting, so he got the ability to shift to be invisible. Heimdall excelled at aura reading and healing, so he got the ability to see all souls. Lorelei excelled at fate magic, so she got enhanced persuasion through her voice.

And in 31 years, at this point, everyone around you will know for sure. But all signs thus far are pointing towards enhanced telekinesis. 

As tradition follows, when the lessons for the day are finished, all four of you walk back towards the entrance of the Völupsá so you and your mother can see Loki and Frigga off. 

“Hey, are you both coming to Sif’s birthday on Wednesay?” Frigga asks before she and the youngest prince leaves. 

“I don’t see why not?” Your mother’s hands rest gently onto your shoulders. “It will be (y/n)’s first trip to the capital. First trip anywhere but the Völupsá, to be honest."

“Then you guys should most definitely come down. It will be nice for her to finally meet the rest of the children.” 

________ 

So on Wednesday you and your mother walked hand in hand down to the Capital. Your mother made sure the pair of you left earlier so if your mind wandered and you tugged too hard to force her to go on an entirely different path. 

Surprisingly, you were mostly undistracted by the crowds of the Capital and all the fanfare that went with it. So guiding you from the outskirts where there weren’t many people to the overflowing markets to the more secluded fields where many noble families were gathered for little Lady Sif’s 22nd birthday. 

“So this is your daughter, Lady Lífa,” a woman with long auburn hair twisted upon her head practically squeals, leaning down to look at you. 

As she draws closer her tawny freckled skin becomes far too detailed, dark blue eyes uncomfortably excited. You tilt back from her face as she grew close; the woman continued to interfere with your personal space as you tried to pull back, still gripping to your mother’s hand. 

“Sorry about that, Ásví. She’s not used to people getting so close to her,” your mother apologizes. 

“It’s alright, she is cute a gorgeous little girl. Though her outfit is… curious.” Ásví stands back up, trying to hold back her grimace as she looks at your mother. 

Your brows furrow as you look down to your outfit. It’s a nicer outfit than normal: dark green leather pants with a white tunic that goes well past your knees, slits beginning just above your hips and the tiniest detailing of a Yggdrasil where a keyhole neck cut out would normally go, but your parents insist you don’t wear yet.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” You question angrily before your mother can speak. 

“Well,” Ásví begins condescendingly, “it is common for women of all kind, but especially those of noble descent, to wear dresses, see?” She gestures towards the group of people behind her, her own blue dress swaying with her movements. 

“But I’m not just noble, I’m a descendant. I’m wearing clothes typical of the Völupsá, especially a descendant.” You stomp your foot as you finish. 

“But you are at a noble gathering, sweetie.”

“I’m not just a noble, though. It-”

“I’m sorry, Ásví,” your mother interrupts. “Maybe next time, we’ll find her a dress. I’m going to introduce her to the other children, alright?”

Ásví turns her scowling face away from you and switches to a pleasant smile as she looks back to your mother. 

“Of course. My little Sif is with all the others.”

With quick steps your mother ushers you both away from Ásví. Your mother sends a quick glance backwards as she moves you quickly along the grassy field.

“Mom?” You ask as you grow closer towards everyone else.

“Yes my little veleda?”

You look up to her. “You won’t make me wear a dress next time, will you?”

“Of course not, little veleda. You can choose, you always have the freedom to choose.” She smiles down at you, her matching eyes looking at you directly to assure you of what she has said. “Come on, you have more than just Loki to know. Outside of the Völupsá there are tons of people for you to know.” 

Both you and your mother look back towards everyone else. 

“You made it!” Loki yells as he dashes away form the group he is in the near middle of, tripping on his own feet to get to you.

Your right hand releases from your mother’s left and you dash towards Loki as well. Loki throws his arms around you in sheer excitement as if he this party was an utter bore before you got there. He lets go of you but keeps hold of your shoulder.

“Let me introduce you to everyone.”

“Alright.”

He grabs your left hand in his right and practically drags you towards everyone else. One girl stands separate from the rest as she moves to greet you and it is clear it is likely she who is celebrating her birthday.

“So this is Sif, whose birthday it is,” Loki begins, gesturing towards a girl a little bit taller than you while also dropping your hand.

She’s also got tan pants beneath her green dress, just barely visible and it’s clear her mother was not the one who approved her outfit. But her birthday, her rules, right? Her hair is braided back tightly to clearly reveal her stony-green eyes. 

“Hi Sif, I’m (y/n),” you reply and extend your hand. 

Sif grins after eyeing your outfit, easily shaking your hand. “I like your outfit, (y/n).”

“I like your pants, Sif. Happy birthday.”

Sif rolls her shoulders back to stand higher with her eyes sparkling as soon as the words pass your lips. It’s clear she has not received many, if not any, compliments on her choice of clothing. 

“Thank you.”

“Now, there are more we need to meet, come on!” Loki insists, pulling you away from Sif’s tight grip. 

“I’ll see you later!” You shout behind you as Loki ushers you away towards everyone else. 

He stops you in front of group of similarly aged children as they all tumble into a pile of wrestling and wildness. His hands stay rested on your shoulders in almost possession combined with nervousness. Loki is radiated anxiety as if everyone is going to suddenly reject you, yet he is also terrified to share the one friend he never thought he had to share.

“So, now, this is Fandral,” Loki points to a blond, “and Volstagg,” ginger, “and Bjǫrn,” auburn hair, and…” but the boys are all scattered now, running in different direction. 

A different blond jumps in front of the pair of you and you stumble backwards, the intrusion on your space so quickly startling you. Loki keeps his grip hard on your shoulder to steady you.

“I’m Prince Thor!” He practically yells in your face. 

Your brows furrow at his loudness and suddenness. Though you have not been to the palace, you have read many books of the previous Allfathers and Allmothers and you know that is no way for a prince to introduce himself. 

“I’m (y/n),” you slowly say. 

“I know. Loki has told me so much about you and your lessons.”

“Thor!” Loki whines from your left.

“It’s unfortunate you haven’t been here before. Two years since you’ve met and you’ve been hiding past all those mountains.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a smile on. “I’ve never left and I’m nearly nineteen.”

“Still.”

An involuntary grimace appears on your face as Thor lacks to explain. 

“I’m just going to sit, I think,” you mutter, utterly confused how Loki and Thor could possibly be siblings. 

You wander away from the brothers, feeling the aura between them change slightly suddenly at your words. A good twenty feet away you simply plop down on the grass unlady-like (not that anyone has taught you thus far how to perform like a lady) and begin plucking on the grass beneath you.

After a few minutes one of the kids Loki pointed out, Fandral you believe, comes to sit you beside you. At first he says nothing. You are content with nothing as you watch the squealing and yelling and chasing of all the other children. It’s not that you don’t want to play, but it’s already overwhelming to see all the people and families walking about. There are more people in this gathering than you have seen in your entire life. 

“So, I haven’t seen you before. What house are you from? Or are you not noble?”

“Oh, um, my mother is of the house of…” you pause to think back to what your mother told you, only days ago. Each noble house had a name based on what land they controlled when Asgard was first built… “Fjalltindr.”

“Oh, okay.”

It’s another good two or so minutes in silence before Fandral speaks again.

“If your mother is from a noble family, why are you never at any of these gatherings?” Fandral wonders.

You shrug, tugging on the grass beside you. “I don’t know.”

“Well what village are you from?” He pushes.

“I’m from the Völuspá.” 

Fandral’s eyes go wide in surprise. “So you’re one of those vættr?”

“Vættr?” You look to him, brows furrowed. “I’m not a vættr. I’m a practitioner of magic. And vætter aren’t bad either, they are just creatures of the supernatural. Like the great wolves, the serpents that once were. They aren’t bad, just… are.”

Fandral furiously shakes his head. “You’re one of those freaks, those unnaturals.” 

“No I’m not. Magic is what runs and protects Asgard.”

“Maybe, but everyone from the Völuspá is a freak!

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

The next tuft of grass you tug goes flying into the air, turning into a flock of yellow, wasp-like dragonflies, all turning directly towards Fandral. They dive-bomb into his hair and bury deep into the locks, the black bodies easily lost amongst the blond. 

He screeches like a newborn as he stands, shaking his head back and forth to rid of the dragonflies. 

Your mother (along with every other adult) turns towards the screaming. In order to stop you from causing more chaos, your mother dashes towards you. 

“What did I tell you?” 

You kick the dirt beneath you and avert your eyes from your mother. “Not to perform magic during this gathering.”

“Little veleda, it is not a punishment.” Your mother leans down to try and look at you. Her right hand lands onto your shoulder softly as a gentle assurance. “Most of the magic people here know of is only the enchantment of the bifrost and the basic protections, everything else they don’t understand. So not here, not now.” 

“Why are we even here? It’s boring.” You look back up to her to beg her, eyes widening in an attempt to convince her to take you home. “Why can’t I be at home with father?” 

“Only a couple more hours. And you would have to come with me at some point, figured this would be a better time than an actual formal event.” She drops her hand from your shoulder. “Go.” 

Frigga walks up behind your mother as you run off towards the rest of the children. 

“It’s hard enough to raise a kid. Try raising one who already has such an insane grasp on her connection,” your mother sighs as she stands. 

“Loki’s already getting strong. At least you don’t have two boys, one who wants to fight his way through everything and the other wants to trick his way through everything.” 

With your mother and Frigga distracted and a majority of the other people not paying any mind to you an opportunity arises. The forest is close enough for you to sneak off to it. And nothing was said about magic not at the gathering. So you slip into the trees quietly, careful to avoid eyes of watchful adults. 

A little bit in, there is a river, more like a brook, surrounded by gray boulders. Your hands touch one of the smaller ones, looking up to assess just how large it is. From the friction against your hands you know even if it were taller it would still be climbable. With a small jump, your hand reaches the first crevice where you can actually grip, followed with your left hand feeling for another as your feet press into it. In all honesty, it isn’t the best rock to scale but it’s better than just sitting along the bank. Thankfully it only takes a few minutes to climb it. 

Once up on top, you swing your legs to dangle off the other side. In this moment you would hate to wear a dress and glad your mother let you wear pants instead. 

A few snaps in the woods alerts you to someone. It’s likely they followed you from the party. You know it isn’t any of the adults, they were not watching. Another kid. None of them would hold enough interest to follow you except Loki so you know it is him.

“All these things are so boring, Loki. It sucks,” you announce.

The steps pause. 

“It’s alright, you know? You can come sit up here.” 

The sounds of him clamoring up the rock are quiet compared to the rush of the river in front of you. But you listen still. Each scrape, each small grunt his another noise for you to focus on as you wait patiently for him to join you. 

Loki swings his legs around sits beside you on the rock. 

“Well I’m going to be king one day so I am proud to sit through these boring parties,” Loki announces, tilting his head up.

“No you’re not.” 

Loki turns to you. “Pardon me?” 

“I said no you’re not.” Your fingers grab a pebble from the boulder and begin swirling it between your hands. “Unless your entire family dies, the crown will never go to you unless explicitly passed on. Your father dies before Thor comes of age, your mother rules as Queen Regent. Thor dies after the crown has been passed to him but your father is alive? Crown goes to him. I could keep going on. You will never be a king so why bother sitting through all this stupid stuff.” 

You throw the rock into the river. 

The following splash freezes midair as you stare at it. It’s small; the pebble barely disrupted the much rush at all. Still the droplets remain as the rest of the water pushes on as though nothing is happening at all. Loki still isn’t sure how you do it. 

“Let’s suffer together then,” Loki proposes, turning back to you from the river. “You don’t want to be here and neither do I, let’s at least make it more bearable together.” 

All you reply with is a hum. It’s not a horrible offer, to be honest. Together. 

Your eyes glance over to him. “Are you coming tomorrow down to Völuspá?” 

“I should be. Mother told me are working on shape shifting.” 

You sigh. “I don’t know what we will be doing.” 

But anything would be better than this dreadful gathering.

So your fingers move to grab another pebble to toss, this one larger, and once again stop the splash. Loki’s eyes follow yours back to the water to see your little trick.

“How do you do that?” Loki asks innocently. 

“It’s just telekinesis,” you mumble, releasing the splash. 

“But ho-”

“We’ve been looking all over for you two!” Lífa yells. Both of you turn over your shoulder, looking in towards  “Why are you down by the river?” 

“You said no magic at the gathering but nothing about the river.” 

“Then what are you doing here Loki?” Frigga demands. 

Loki shrugs and looks back to you. “I saw her leave and I thought I should follow.” 

The friends share look to each other, both with their own unique twist of concern. The two of you are only going to become more and more of a handful. 

__

Next

__

Taglist:

@tarynkauai @krystallynx

[lizartgurl]

“Back To You” (Aqualad x OC)

PART ELEVEN

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

@flamebiirds @super-spoiler @keanureevesislesbian @lesbianstargirl @princes-jasmine @the-shadow-of-atlantis

“What are the Whitago?” Kaldur asked.

“Huh?” Miiyahbin froze, letting her guard down and giving Emma a clear shot to hit her in the shoulder a little too hard.

“Ow! That hurt!” Miiyahbin lay on the dirt patch next to the Trading Post, holding her shoulder.

“Sorry, but you can’t let yourself get distracted. The next shot could very well be a bullet,” Emma pulled Miiyahbin to her feet, making sure her shoulder wasn’t dislocated.

“My apologies, Miiyahbin,” Kaldur said, practicing his aqua-kinesis on the pile of snow they’d cleared away, “I was reading about Cree lore last night, and I had to ask before I forgot.”

“It’s fine, I’m glad you asked,” Miiyahbin smiled shakily. “Honestly, I used to think that the Whitago were just horror stories told to children to keep them from running off, and subsequently give them nightmares. I hadn’t really thought that since the legendary Midayo were real, that maybe the Whitago were too.”

Kaldur nodded, “Again, my apologies.”

Miiyahbin just nodded, already ready to get back to sparring with Emma. “So what’s the plan?” She asked, just barely managing to miss being kicked in the face by Emma.

“The plan?” That managed to distract Emma enough that Miiyahbin socked her right in the nose with a solid “CRACK”.

“I’m so sorry!” Miiyahbin gasped.

“Nah, don’t be. That was a great hit.” Emma pinched her nose shut as Kaldur came running up to her.

“Are you alright, Emma?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She tried to wave him. “I think I’ll get a paper towel or something. Why don’t you work on your waterbending forms with Miiyahbin now?”

“Emma, it’s not called waterbending.” Kaldur rolled his eyes.

“Grandmother said it was more like water-communicating! As in, with any element, you talk to the water, and then you agree on what to do.”

“I have never heard of it in that way, but I do know that the ocean has a mind of its own.”

“The problem today is that no one understands the power behind the elements anymore,” Miiyahbin sighed.

Kaldur chuckled, “You can say that again.”

Emma burst back out the door with a napkin from the diner stuffed up her nose. Sidekick yipped and ran behind Kaldur’s legs.

“Sorry to leave so quickly, Miiyahbin. What was it you were saying? Something about a plan?”

“I know you guys are supposed to train me and stuff, but when am I going to be able to help you two save my sisters?”

Emma and Kaldur looked at each other.

“Miiyahbin,” Emma started, “It’s barely been a month. Kaldur and I had to study for months, even years to be able to defend ourselves in close combat, even against a few petty thugs.”

“Emma, you went out the night you discovered your father was Batman.”

“I’d been training my whole life as an acrobat! The rest was just dumb luck. And you spent years at the Conservatory and in the military before you were made Aqualad.”

Miiyahbin stared innocently up at the two arguing, holding Sidekick, who was just as silent.

Emma sighed, and turned back to Miiyahbin. “Sorry, but taking down a trafficking ring is a long way beyond your capacity now. We don’t want you to get kidnapped, either.”

“Better me than hundreds of other innocent girls!” Miiyahbin snapped suddenly. Kaldur and Emma both took a step back.

“Heather’s barely able to speak after what happened to her, she has to stay locked up in her house until we take these guys down, and that’s no way for her to recover! You said it yourselves, the longer we wait, the more opportunity it gives them to take more girls and send them out all over the world where they’ll never get home again. In the time it took you to train me, another two girls went missing from another Reservation in the Dakotas!

“I’m the Midayo! I’m supposed to protect them! I promised them I’d protect them!” Miiyahbin’s hands shook as she dropped sidekick, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears.

“If I can’t protect them, what good of a Midayo am I?” She sobbed.

Without looking at each other, Emma and Kaldur wrapped their arms around Miiyahbin.

“I know how you feel,” Emma whispered, rubbing her back gently.

“We’ll tell your grandmother, and Doctor Mid-Nite, then.” Kaldur declared, taking lead as he was naturally born to do. “Tomorrow, on the Winter Solstice, we’re taking down this ring of traffickers.

“We’re going to bring all of those girls home.”

-

It was hardly enough time to be properly trained in defense, much less offense, but they all knew Miiyahbin was right. The longer they waited, the worse the situation grew. It was too risky for Kaldur’s sake to try and contact the League, even if they weren’t all concerned with another world-ending event in Rhelasia, Mid-Nite said, and there was no way to hope that the Canadian government  would help.

Mid-Nite stood on standby with Grandmother, Emma made sure they knew exactly what to do.

That night, when they reached the river, Kaldur stuck his hand into the rushing, freezing water, his eyes closed.

Miiyahbin dove to shield herself from the splash as the water spouted into the air, ripped from the riverbed. But Kaldur was very careful, and guided the water into a solid, frozen form, creating a bridge  between the island and the mainland. After a test from several well-placed blows, it was determined that the bridge would hold for the night.

As they approached Angelsport, they carefully cut aside branches and underbrush, clearing a path that led straight to the bridge, and from there to the safety of Moose Factory.

“Miiyahbin, I want you right beside me or Kaldur the whole night. I need you to do whatever we say, even if that means leaving us behind to get the prisoners free.”

Miiyahbin nodded stoically. She knew the stories. She’d seen this hellish place for herself, she knew what these people would do to her if she was caught.

“Do you promise?” Nightingale stressed.

Equinox nodded. “I promise.” She whispered, her voice carried on the breeze that blew past, leaving everything almost frozen still in its wake.

The two of them nearly crashed into Aqualad as he held out his arm in front of them.

“We are not alone in these woods.”

Equinox held out her hand, searching for the crisp, winter breeze that had been so steady a moment ago. The only air she could feel now, and her sense of the air was fading fast, was stale, and carried the stench of death.

Nightingale and Aqualad slowly turned, watching as ghostly white figures- some with moose antlers, others with scales and scraps of otter fur, fox tails and wolf snouts- a jumble of woodland creatures and skeletons, emerged from behind every tree they had passed.

Miiyahbin’s face paled in the darkness of the forest.

“The Whitago.”

[droneseco]

Keychron Q1 Wired 75% Mechanical Keyboard Review: The Hotswap Mechanical Keyboard for Perfectionists

Keychron Q1

8.80 / 10

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An excellent keyboard by any standard.

Key Features

Tenkeyless

All metal construction

QMK and VIA compatibility

Gasket-mounted plate

Specifications

Brand: Keychron

Wireless: No

Backlight: RGB SMD

Media Controls: Yes

Num Pad: No, TKL

Switch Type: Gateron Phantom

Replaceable Keys: Modular hotswap

Pros

Stable and solid typing

Outstanding build quality

Ultra heavy base

Programmable keys and backlight

Cons

Expensive

Not travel friendly

Not wireless

Extremely thick

Buy This Product

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As a veteran keyboard builder, I love the $169 Keychron Q1 75% ten-keyless (TKL) keyboard. Its near-perfect typing experience dominates the competition. While it's not right for those who need ergonomics and Bluetooth, it's perfect for typists who don't need a ten-key keypad.

Is the Keychron Q1 Mechanical Keyboard Right for You?

While wowing me with its marvelous and muted typing experience, the Q1 isn't without flaw.

If you're looking for the heaviest 75%, modular, hot-swap keyboard, it's the best in its class. But for those of you looking for ergonomics or wireless, there are more suitable options. A strong candidate that covers ergonomics and wireless is the Kinesis Freestyle2, a split mechanical keyboard.

Who Are Keychron?

Before I get into the pros and cons, you might want to know more about the company behind the Q1. Keychron is a newcomer to the mech market with a reputation for quality. Its first designs focused on products for the Mac. But it's since moved on to building general-use keyboards.

The Keychron Q1 is their newest flagship product, this time catering to the high-end, enthusiast market. Their selling point here isn't just hotswap sockets. Keychron has distinguished itself from the competition with an ultra-heavy case. To my knowledge, this is one of the heaviest 75-key keyboards ever made and probably one of the most gravity-challenged keyboards of 2021, period.

Although gasket-mounted plates, and other typist-oriented features, appear in multiple keyboards, such as the Mojo68, the Rama Works Kara, and the Ikki68 Aurora, I haven't seen them paired with heavier framed designs. Considering that gaskets reduce the shock of bottoming out, I'm surprised to not see them used with keyboards designed for stability. Potentially a heavy case, gasket mounts, and Poron could mean the triple crown for a stable typing platform. To date, no keyboard combines those three components.

Hardware Specifications

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Dimensions: 145 x 327.5 x 21.6 mm

Weight: ~1,600 grams

Plate: 6063 Aluminum

Switch type: Barebones or Gateron Phantom Red, Phantom Blue, Phantom Brown

Ports: USB Type-C (USB-C)

Case material: 6063 Aluminum

Case colors: Carbon Black, Space Gray, Navy Blue

Sockets: Kailh Hotswap

Keycaps: Double-shot ABS, top-key legends

Cable: Black, detachable, braided, coiled USB-C

Extras: Keycap puller, switch puller, extra "Poron" material, additional keys for macOS, optional rotary encoder

Modular Hotswap Sockets and Gateron Phantom Switches

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Keychron offers three default keycaps to go with the latest Gateron Phantom series switches. To be honest, I can't tell the difference between the Phantom series and the Ink series (I reviewed the Ink series in 2020). Both have the same weights, actuation curves, and colored transparent switch housings. A more relevant comparison would be to compare regular 2021 Gaterons to the Phantom switches. In my initial testing, the difference seems to be the Phantoms are smoother. My guess is that Gateron used lower friction plastic or lubricant.

Keychron Q1 Teardown

A teardown of the Q1 reveals several innovative design features. My favorite is the ability to customize the specific level of shock absorption of the keyboard. But aside from that, there are three other components that Keychron used to great effect.

Poron Gasket-Mounted Plate

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Gasket-mounted plate designs float the plate, PCB, and switches on top of a series of Poron-foam gaskets. Whenever you type, the gasket depresses, softening each keypress. Typing hard enough causes the entire plate to drop a millimeter or two. The effect causes a reduction in the harshness of bottoming a key out. Although the keycaps are not silenced, gaskets also chop down on typing sounds. That's because a special advantage of Poron over other kinds of foam is that it exhibits extreme energy muffling properties.

However, the substance that Keychron refers to as Poron looks and feels exactly like neoprene. I'm not sure whether Keychron used Poron on the inter. Then there's a denser layer of a kind of urethane foam that also appears to be a Poron layer. This layer pads the interior of the aluminum case.

Keychron included extra Poron in its kit. If you want, you can increase the amount of Poron between the plate and the base. However, I found that this actually increased the sensation of bottoming out of keys. After some experimentation, I found that fewer pieces of Poron improve the comfort of hard key presses.

Screw-In Stabilizers Vs. Plate-Mounted Stabilizers

The biggest source of rattle and noise production on a keyboard is oftentimes the space bar. Different keyboard stabilizer types cause different kinds of problems though. Costar stabilizers are easier to remove but suffer from stability and noise issues. Cherry stabilizers produce less rattle but are difficult to service. Screw-in stabilizers offer the best of both. They produce less noise, are super stable, and aren't difficult to service.

Typing on the Q1's space bar feels, to overuse a word, solid. While screw-in stabilizers demonstrate a tremendous amount of side-to-side wiggle, the opposite is true of their typing stability. They are enormously stable, thanks to the fact that they are literally screwed into the motherboard. I suspect, though, that space bar removal is a big advantage here. It appears that the stabilizer's play allows for space bar removal from extreme angles. So you can pull it without the risk of damage to the keycap. I can't help but feel that screw-in stabilizers are the future of high-end keyboard design.

Poron Layer

Poron looks and feels like neoprene on first inspection. But pushing my finger into the material reveals the difference: Poron seems more durable and resistant compared to neoprene. Rather than yielding to touch as neoprene would, Poron feels almost solid and inflexible. I've read that there are different formulations of Poron, some offering consistency equivalent to neoprene.

The functional use of Poron on the base seems to further stabilize typing. I can't imagine there's a more stable typing machine out there.

Thick Aluminum Base

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Another interesting feature Keychron's use of a weighted aluminum base. The base by itself weighs in at 872 grams, which is only 94 grams less than my steel-plate Varmilo VB87M 87-key keyboard. In other words, the base alone weighs more than a larger, steel-plated keyboard. The full keyboard weighs 1,623 grams, almost double my Varmilo.

The extremely heavy base makes for a stable, solid typing experience. Personally, I dislike the feel of metal-plate keyboards for touch typing. Because aluminum and steel are such great conductors of vibrations, you tend to feel on your other fingers whenever you strike a keycap. However, Keychron's approach here was to dampen each keypress while maintaining the solidity of a metal plate. The end result is solid and stable typing.

Lots of Customization Options

Keychron includes customization options for the case and switches. In future, two bare-bones models will be made: ISO and ANSI. At launch, though, only the case color and switches are customizable. The case colors include black, dark blue, and gray. As mentioned earlier, the switch options are a bit more interesting as they cover Gateron's latest switches: Phantom Red, Phantom Blue, and Phantom Brown.

QMK/VIA Support

The ultimate customization option is the ability to reprogram the keyboard from top to bottom. QMK or VIA can do just that, although it requires understanding how to flash your keyboard with firmware. It's not hard but there's a slight learning curve.

While I don't use VIA and have no familiarity with it, I am familiar with QMK. It's not hard to use, particularly if you're already familiar with flash ATMega32 processors. Those of you who have unlocked the bootloader of an Ender 3 will know what I mean.

But for those who do like to create their own custom layouts and color schemes, Keychron published their Q1 QMK source code on GitHub. The broad compatibility with QMK is probably because it uses an ATMega32 microchip, which is one of the most common processors used on QMK-supported keyboards. It's also commonly seen on 3D printers and other consumer electronics.

Backlighting and Animation Effects

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The animation effects are about what you would expect on a high-end keyboard. The Q1 uses RGB SMDs instead of LEDs so there's a tremendous amount of color variation, like on all RBG backlit keyboard. However, it's worth noting that can set custom colors using QMK Configurator, so if you need a particular shade, that's possible. On top of that, there are numerous animations, including several multi-hued, rainbow-like variations.

While the backlight looks good, Keychron's standout feature is how they combined front-facing lighting with transparent switch housings. The combination allows for more intense animation effects, since the light is visible from the portion of the keyboard that faces the typist. However, while this is an interesting visual, I'd have preferred shine-through keycaps with front-printed lettering.

What's Not Good?

While great, not everything is perfect with the Keychron Q1.

No Function Layer Markings

Something I found irritating on the Q1: there are nonfunction layer markings on the keycaps. Because there's no documentation, this led to a lot of guesswork as to how to control backlights.

Expensive For a Keyboard in This Class

While $169 isn't the most expensive 75% keyboard, it's also a fair bit more expensive than the competition in this particular market segment. Razer, for example, sells a wired 75% for under $100. And while Razer's 75% isn't nearly as nice, $69 is enough to buy another low-end mechanical keyboard, such as the Vissles V84.

Front-Facing Lighting Paired with Top-Printed Legends

LED lighting scheme is designed for front-lit shine through keycaps.

That's partly by design as the keycaps aren't shine-through. The goal was to use a semi-transparent switch housing to allow for various visual effects.

No Capslock Status Indicator

Most keyboards include some kind of indicator that capslock is turned on. The Q1 doesn't provide any hint that you might be accidentally yelling at your friends and family over email.

The Future Will Mean Lower Prices

Gasket-mounted plates, screw-in stabilizers, and dampening material like silicone and Poron are the future. While the Keychron might seem like a good deal today at $169, next year there will be similar options for less money.

Should You Buy the Keychron Q1?

If you're looking for a high-end typist's keyboard, the Keychron Q1 beats the keycaps off the overpriced Razer BlackWidow. But if you want an ergonomic or wireless keyboard, look elsewhere.

For those looking for a low-cost hot-swap alternative, I suggest the Glorious Modular Mechanical Keyboard. The GMMK offers the same modular hot-swap design with a focus on entry-level keyboard enthusiasts.

Keychron Q1 Wired 75% Mechanical Keyboard Review: The Hotswap Mechanical Keyboard for Perfectionists published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

[maplesecretsanta]

Finding Maha

Darling, I hope you’ve not forgotten about me this Christmas, but just in case, here’s something sweet and silly to make your holiday brighter.

Cheers, Raych~

from @derandomagency to @reijinx 

Kinesis never failed to be amazed or amused at the eccentricities of Maple World. Sure, they had interesting technological advancements in this world, like Kerning City resembling Seoul, or else magical sights like the entirely natural Ellinel that was built around a giant tree and having actual fairies as their residents.

(Seriously, that was cool shit.)

Still, one thing that she still couldn’t understand despite reading as many tomes as she could about the topic was the polearm Maha.

“Let me get this straight,” Kinesis started, elbows braced beneath her as she leaned forward. “The warrior Hero Aran once wielded a magical polearm called Maha, but in the battle against the Black Mage, Aran got cursed to be encased in ice. So, Maha decides to send both his wielder and himself to a tiny isolated island Rien for safety.”

Nero nodded even as she nibbled on a mysterious snack that had been prepared by the weird wolf guy. “Yeap. And 100 years after the Black Mage got sealed, Aran woke up again on Rien, weakened and amnesiac. Maha deemed that Aran wasn’t worthy of wielding the polearm yet so Aran is still training to become stronger again.”

Kinesis leaned back with a frustrated groan. “But I still don’t understand! The picture books all say Aran had a normal sized weapon before the curse happened, but the weapon is apparently A GIANT POLEARM?! And Maha is apparently an invisible weapon spirit that is gold in color and can only be seen by Aran? How is this even possible?” She bemoaned.

Nero just shrugged. “Why don’t you go see for yourself and talk to the locals about it then?”

Kinesis sat up. “Wait, I can go there?”

A flat look. “Did you not go to Rien to help out before when they asked for help investigating mysterious incidents?”

“Oh, there was a call for help? I thought that was just Jay playing a prank on me.”

That earned her a groan of despair from Nero.

“Just, open up your inbox and accept the letter. Someone will use magic to teleport you to Rien,” Nero grumbled.

Kinesis shrugged and stood. “Are you coming along as well?”

Nero shook her head. “I’m not interested in cold environments.”

With an amused smile, Kinesis waved goodbye even as she opened the letter from Rien, allowing herself to be transported to the island.

(Magic was cool - no need to wait for buses/trains when there was apparently someone who had enough magic to teleport you across the world just so you could be there when they needed you.)

Kinesis blinked even as she found herself in a snowy landscape, eyes landing upon the giant polearm that was apparently encased in a glacier. She whistled softly at the sight as she gazed at it wide-eyed.

Huh, so the stories were true after all.

She took out her phone to snap a photo for Jay, only to be stopped by a curious voice.

“What are you doing?”

Kinesis turned to see a blue haired girl with equally blue eyes staring at the smartphone Kinesis was holding. Her attire was in the style of the Rien locals, but her looks suddenly reminded Kinesis of Nineheart. Still, gotta answer the question.

“Me? I’m taking pictures of the polearm!”

The girl still stared at her. “Taking… pictures? With such a small thing?” The doubtful note in the girl’s tone made Kinesis grin harder.

“What? Don't you believe me? Come closer and I’ll show you!” The blue haired girl stared harder at Kinesis before moving closer to Kinesis with doubt in her eyes. Kinesis just grinned and let the girl see her phone screen, the camera still open to show a view of the giant polearm. Sure, the quality wasn’t the greatest (maybe it was time to ask Jay for an upgrade?) but it was enough for her to prove slowly how she took the picture of the polearm with just a simple tap of the screen. The girl beside her made awed noises.

“Amazing…” She whispered. Then she focused her gaze on Kinesis. “”What else can you do with this… thing?”

“Tell me your name first!” Kinesis returned. The girl huffed in annoyance but was quick to reply.

“I am Lilin. I’m the caretaker of Maha and the only human who lives here permanently. Sometimes I also act as mediator between the different races as they see me as someone who is trusted to be unbiased,” the girl - Lilin’s - introduction was frank and to the point. It was only after hearing the name that Kinesis reacted.

“Wait - you’re Neinheart’s sister!” She exclaimed.

Lilin stared back in surprise. “You know my bro - Neinheart?”

Kinesis laughed and nodded. “Who doesn’t? That guy has been seriously annoying in both worlds to be honest - as Student President Neinheart in Seoul, he’s a constant wet blanket who always shoots down my fun ideas for collabs between our schools. In Maple World, he keeps sending me letters to join the Maple Alliance. Even after I joined, he never failed to badger me into attending every single meeting! He’s still an annoying disciplinarian whom I can never escape!” She declared dramatically, eyes wide with a plea for sympathy. All she got was an unimpressed stare.

“You still haven’t told me how you know that I’m his sister.”

Kinesis winced. “Right. I was getting to that.” She cleared her throat. “Apparently chatting with a bored Knight Instructor is the best way to get gossip. Chief Hawkeye was eager to tell me about how Neinheart had a sister called Lilin, but no one had apparently seen her because she rarely attends the meetings unless Aran gets back from training in time to go for a meeting. So yea, I didn’t realize who you were till you mentioned your name.”

Lilin was still staring at her. “You mentioned your world had a Student President Neinheart. Tell me more about him.” Kinesis tapped her chin in thought. “Well… OK then. I’m not from Maple World to be honest. I’m actually from another world - dimension to be exact - where there’s no magic but our technology far surpasses many of the technology in Maple World. My world is called Earth, but I actually come from a country called Seoul. I never knew Maple World existed till a handsome bastard who calls himself White Mage made a ruckus in my world to lure me into his trap. He then forced my powers out of my body and created a huge sinkhole in my homeworld. In the middle of all that ruckus, I got teleported to Maple World and got told that I’ve got to train to stabilize and grow my powers.” She grimaced. “As for Neinheart, well, that stuck up is my equal in another school. He studies in Shinsoo International, which is a private school that has no principal, run instead by a lady called Miss Cygnus - Empress Cygnus in your world. You might think her naïve at first, but she’s actually rather cunning! I almost convinced her to let our schools have an exchange program party for the sake of increasing our rapport but Neinheart was such a grump about it, preventing us from putting our plans into action.”

Lilin blinked at Kinesis’ rambling but didn’t react beyond hesitating slightly then asking another question. “Is there - is there a Lilin in your world too?”

The hesitance in her words made Kinesis blink, staring at her for a while before replying softly, “Neinheart never mentions anything about a sister, but according to Miss Cygnus, Lilin did visit their school once. But she didn’t stay long - just confirmed that her brother was alright in Shinsoo International before leaving.”

Lilin sighed softly at Kinesis’ words before shaking her head and facing Kinesis with a determined stare. “Enough talking about Neinheart. Tell me more about this black object that can take images.” Kinesis didn’t react to the sudden change in subjects, instead grinning and flipping the camera to selfie mode, which made Lilin gasp in surprise. “This black object is called a smartphone. It’s a common and necessary device in my world because of the many purposes for it. Taking a photo is just one of the many tasks it can do. Let’s take another photo together, shall we?”

Lilin nodded hesitantly, moving closer to Kinesis so that she could see her reflection. With a grin, Kinesis took the chance to take a selfie, which made Lilin blink in surprise. The image came out fine, however, which made Lilin exclaim in awe.

“There we go! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lilin nodded slowly at Kinesis’ cheerfulness. “Want to try taking more?” That got her more eager nodding.

So, with a grin, Kinesis prepared the camera again, taking more photos with Lilin, later on with the penguins as well since they were very curious about her phone and wanted to try having their selfies taken. They even took a group photo at the giant polearm encased in ice, since that was the only place that could cram the island full of eager penguins into place for a single photo. Kinesis was their photographer this time, snapping a few candid pictures of them. She had to deny all the requests eventually due to her phone battery running low. But she did promise them that she would have their photos printed, which incited another wave of surprise and demands that she had to run away from due to their overenthusiasm. As Kinesis activated the skill that would let her teleport back to her home in Seoul, she took the chance to browse through the photos she had taken.

Even as she greeted Jay and waved off Yuna as usual, she continued browsing through her photo gallery, laughing at some of the more awkward photos taken or else deleting the truly bad ones. When she got to her massive group photo, Kinesis smiled at the cheer on everyone’s faces. (Those penguins were too cute!) Then something caught her eye, making her frown and double tap on the image to zoom in closer. She expanded the image, only to stare at the edge of the axe on Aran’s polearm, which had a golden stranger next to it - a stranger whom she did not recall snapping a photo of or meeting.

Said stranger’s body was entirely gold in color, his golden hair tied back in a long ponytail even as he frowned in the direction of the camera with his arms crossed. While she would have passed it off as forgetfulness - perhaps she forgot running into him, which was kinda impossible due to the sheer brightness he exuded - but one thing was clear, there had been no penguin on the bamboo platform that held the stranger. Everyone had crowded around the bottom of the ice or else on the steep cliffs of the glacier, but the bamboo platform had been empty since Kinesis had told them she didn’t think she could fit in the platform as well. So no one had been there. Also, another thing came out as weird to her - the stranger was hovering in the air. His feet weren’t even on the platform, instead, the stranger had hovered at the very edge of it as he stared into the camera.

After a while, she stopped staring at her phone, tossing it aside with a heavy sigh as she mused aloud over the events she had witnessed for herself.

“Fact 1, giant weapon has a golden spirit. Fact 2, said spirit can only be seen by Aran. Fact 3, my phone camera captured the photo of a golden spirit next to the polearm.” She thought over it for a while before shrugging.

“Huh - I guess Maha does exist after all.”

THE END

[owlhuikj]

Therapy Owl Blush

Therapy Owl Blush

by hui kj

It is all to want to end crying naturally - to know better to save one grey, but it is her any way in her holiday summer of sonder she proclaims sincerely: what can I do as long as I am here this morning without space-self-allowed for unearthly, vivid backing that I know she knows I do not have but kindly…? Lightning made us still progressively more simply while it gave her infinity score. 

They never let their cat out; well, the morning thunder, we scared said cat, were  living fast hours ago, adjacent to sound and body rhythm because the drugs would not let us down tired but all sensual us three locators of thing-happenings, kinesis getting away from only me, and shame or not stance, all done with a rain dance - as long as I feel like I am helping - she calls it: Jupiter’s Juniper. The quite quaint house owners, them two over there - the boy tooting and her still hitting the pipe and me involved with true mania: watched the storm come in on the couch near the window and she said the world is not ready to end which was actually strategically spun into sanity - their mouths were not dropped like mine and we smiled for moments.

He told me that he can repair or let go with ease from a weary concern into the stable format regarding the ranking of best at lowest or curious in curious measure, we all with equal, strung out bed headed pose discussion in their living room where I am staying for the weekend. The paranoia passed after long hours, and all the colors changed in this summer of sonder right in the suburbs near campus around Cornell of New York, with the angry clouds scaring them but relieving me because every go at the rush enables me to focus on what is nature and what is nurture but hiss tone via meth until you shifted and stare: think a bunch. 

Save her, but nobody ever knew her like she has her - do not tell a soft heart to switch any lights: believe me tired, believe me I have cried at this. The six red suicides - famous around here: or the psychic nurturing mind submerged, spirit kingdom guide the one here telling us both she got an abortion earlier this month before she even wondered if it was mine or his, she mentioned while all tweaked out and actively bothered, that she progresses thru forward as best, gray pain not letting her make way for lazy insight for anything or anyone to blame; it is just what it is - she did want to tell us, and our lack of comments beneath or opinions at all, our current way of life empowered her immensely and we were more than happy to attempt to get her speaking on as she regarded but never attempted much out of just a extraordinary simplicity but when spoke: all vibrant she. Meth season parties all blend and form the stupid, very real angst of the submerged boys, us two who are looking up to her but the angst very much present - we are mustering power against the wicked bleakness of ourselves, and we, the paused, curious jesters, three conjoined all the way to the god’s and goddesses of Jupiter’s Juniper - we are going to wait around until she finds God one last time, never ending tho and the rain is music for any motion or thought at all to resemble what she could and - at times - could not forecast as our guide while there was definitely channeling effort but a morning for mourning from a complex sincerity which was accepted. 

Even if we waltzed over future from that choice from the woman waving of a one at she be too young to manage care and or just a lack of enthusiasm or exactness at this moment, but with sane and reasonable position; a differing vision that seeing the freedom and the influence: all have her men in her life salivate and scramble, but veined all the same before and after like always but now is in complex tamed release, but the boys seem to shrug it off like me for random, few day binges until my own empathy for myself stretches out the room and out the door until a life is going and manage individuality, although drastically drifted and gardened singularity that the boys think up even if she mentioned ecstasy and love: the brain is worse than the rain and anything or if remaining grays and she will look up with her long hair and she knows our God but they are the ones with the guns for living faced at doom, terror, or something that you could regret and conjure but seemed oriented with choice or not - defensive intruder murder, suicide, or in her mind - why she is blue - at bay tho her all around innocent either, look a rainbow - but she will remain altogether - and moved over where my arms today on the couch pulling her close with her paleness quivered shine as shiny spotlight in the storm, and the tv was muted and the cars beeped in the suburb streets and he, the other but common, would not know Jupiter because that’s her Lucifer Hell and all the staring at walls with her blueprint maps and symbol expression that goes on her shamanic YouTube channel or a simple notebook, and all the meth and the other same one, could be enemy, would not know Jupiter if she pointed to the flashing NASA Channel - but he will read about suicide in the paper in the summer of sonder and the drugs will not kill his empathy but he will let their cat get fat (?!) and invite different boys, and be the one to encourage a re-up but only ever barely chips in because he can barely afford to pay his half of rent with disability for his bipolar and selling his own chill pills all so we can blow holes in our souls and - every time - vaguely successful or not with a woman who does not need me definitely but he stays. They have been a couple for three years and I am past it but remain anyway.

Alaina knew one of the Cornell bridge jumpers who made a couple Poe posts on Facebook, which she saw in fact and liked even and then she felt that a darkness made all smart and emotionally free in a way and that he was nonetheless countering the grim and taking care of himself - she even invited him over but he did not reply. My aunt committed suicide six years ago after a different death in the family after the summer remembered every summer - I want to at least attempt to take the pain away before great goes without hope or the idea in construction…

‘Are y’all okay? Are you good?’ I sat up eager and pulled at my hair and looked back and forth.

She grabbed my shoulder and scratched soft with her nails down my back. She laid in my arms on the couch and she fed herself and offered to feed me strawberries while Zack played with his facial hair cursing at the cat that hid behind the tv. 

‘Zack, you should not have mentioned the gun…’ she said. 

‘Ok, Doc. I thought this is the sonder summer? Buddy may get like us…’

‘I look out for you.’ Her words spelled love. God, I love how she said that. 

It was their hideout-house welcoming a community of sensitivity; I followed the cat to the back door to be let outside, and at the kitchen the food made me sick from the memory of the taste from a couple hours back when bread was little prickly razorblades toxic to desire. Alaina reached for him and let him spoon after he asked for her choice of record to be dim, soothing background noise while my school work was in need of attendance still on the counter. The rain slowed down but the atmosphere emerging inside or out was more acceptable, but still mundane and grey - I looked over to them. She was curled up staring at the wall why Zack stroked her hair and hummed slowly and wonderfully along with the music. I tapped my pen and made underlines and notes on papers for my internship work as an aspiring prose editor - Poe scared us all. Nobody was tired in late afternoon in the sonder summer - dates and days unimportant, to be content if we can together. She started to take notes on her phone for a new video on how facts do not remain facts from the point angle of free choice, all piled up from her recent but at this time polluted indifferences that keeps her psyche buzzing but not shaking the world as she always does, this time damage felt - I love the empathy - she is consistently romantic, and that seemed like a fact to me. We are all thinned out by the grown-up squeeze rioted against and protested, she a leader - the sonder she felt on LSD when the snow dissolved months ago, where the boundaries dissolved. But this summer we became three hearty members of where the world will be when we are finished - but it was her high and thriving in talk of destiny: cannot sleep; wires are loves and the millions of them got scared away and I was not afraid, and every individual will change everything we agreed. I just have other stuff going on.

‘…and a prayer to parthenon floats light discovery against palms that will not clench but let go forever in debt to blissful hope in faith.’ - I read from a sophomore’s essay but the room aura and out the window kept it grey from a potential enthusiasm. Across the room, Alaina shivered, hunched over, still near zero physically and prophetically, and wept quietly while the boy holding her got up and sighed all the way to the fridge, and I thought to myself that losing on purpose in company only wakes up the in-between hope in faith for the new battle of the best hum where the two have the same song, just a different queue. 

‘What were you telling me Zack?’ I asked.

‘Well Buddy, when Doc ain’t here, we ain’t no family - eh?’

~

She was not an accident; who questions? I will see them next month to still wonder. At two in the morning all the clothes were back on and I grabbed my backpack and fled to the McDonald’s on my way across town to my father’s house. There was an old, black fellow wearing a red sweater flipping thru poetry and no one else in the restaurant but us - I just ordered a water and sat down in the back with my laptop all to have wifi to submit for my summer English course that is in fact the only real thing in my life but completely without close company ever hence the visit to home. After I submitted my assignment, I opened Facebook and looked at the Poe boy and then to Alaina’s page to view her Youtube’s latest but posted time ago. 

Every month she provides an optimistic lecture on a tension in a relatable society and has been offered lecture booking at Cornell but she refuses to leave her home no matter what, even if her 100k subscribers worship her undeniable compassion and insight that she is distances herself from, and does not check comments and has a stack of fan-mail she is overly sensitive about but always managing to connect what is highly thought about but no one ever made it a gift like she did. 

Alaina’s fingers ran thru her own brown, short hair, and I let the video play without sound and merely watched her hand movements and her fragile but sincere facial expressions bringing an extreme, opposing jealousy and a fiery infatuation that I was able to mute and mute but jittery. This all is completely asexual to me with a sobering acceptance that if she has herself under control and if a casual, distant friendship is what is exactly the reality and mutual ringing bell it is. At that moment be seeing that the world would be saved, and that change is not what we claim because there is no rupturing chaos: only that what I hold onto is the way it has always been. 

‘Sir, here is the pen you dropped at the counter…’ - then I walked out into the sonder summer night and got in my car; leaving everywhere, all the time as a life half-half there and here but never not going: pool party events on Facebook - I need some sleep. 

Around noon on this Monday there was a familiar voice in dialogue in my father’s house downstairs, and my tweaking drifted almost all away but knew I could not smoke weed for tension-release until the men took off for work again after lunch here. It was my dad’s childhood best friend who was here often because they each lived alone - one divorced, one widowed. In actuality, my only problem now was to not sound gay or scientific but rather wise of adult college things to say and avoid shifting into the words of how I quit my dishwashing job last week or acting like I was used to talking at all with all my zero, daily practice besides with the sonderers - I reminded myself this was the summer, and if I happen to get him to teach me a song on the guitar: maybe I will not feel like such a lost cause and if I am going to slash zen, I am going to get someone out of trouble or simply delighted even but besides myself as that works. When I was little, my dad would sing and his friend would play music - a fond memory.

God still hopes to exist and save even if I do not believe it or hear it witnessed from older men. If the summer of sonder does not exist: do I want it to exist?

‘It is the sonder summer…’

‘Say what?’

‘Community of equal value - held by quotes unsayable but acknowledged and cherished…not witchcraft, it is my friend…she is,…wonderful.’

His younger son’s were funny when we were growing up - my father acknowledged how well-behaved they were but they carried an all-alright-burden of the fact they would never not be good: they are still good of course, and their good will stay around outside of who is home - continuity froze me curious but pale, out for the same good anyways.

Zack sent me six emails. He said something ethereally vibrant had shook their space - he said that not only was the sun coming out and blaring forms in contact coming apparent, but the equation of love Alaina muttered and counted about but never could manage was fluid now, and their cat is on it’s ninth life and bolted for mission but it did not make them sad…he said that she would hold the numbers and every decision’s outcome was beyond apparent before, and saving any would mean pain - unless she redeemed suicide and conjured a contradiction that would undo zen to strengthen faith. I emailed back that I would check my schedule for an odd reason - my house was empty and it was the summer of sonder. He said the police took her away to the Psych and somehow avoid possession, and the other - just the other day was just the other - was on his way to my house. 

~

To me it was just the meth that had me drawn, but now… some things save everything but you just know the destruction pieces will be pursued and lately any system seems to me an unfair way of looking onto pain: an annoying mock-triumph when God let good and evil happen for all and all to take away some all for precious, false perspective on monument that had it’s strength all out, but who knows who that was? I knew her, the one zooming out by herself till Jupiter’s Juniper…even if my faith was small…

‘Her brother says she has never been alone.’ Zack said while moving his rook. 

‘So you want me to come with you to visitation on Wednesday?’ I cared of course.

Yet, in my perspective I was initially just a fan of her channel and close by until they seemed to like me and asked me to stay and never to leave because her channels are true he says, and I know her and I are the skeptics: Zack, the one that differs and is more about the meth and the television, and the one who never checks in on the latest about agreed, open frequencies and all the while the most horny. 

He proclaims Alaina earned her energy like a bird flying over a volcano, but he does not know how, and yet continues to proclaim he caught a glimpse of her wavelength and gave up science and logic to follow her as long she will leave a trail to orbit. Zack does not see that she is recklessly grey; so I open up the window and put on a record to smoke weed while he breathed slowly lying down on my bed. 

One-two-three-one too…this is the life. I miss my mother. She will visit me and I will ask who she is; ‘I told you to dream.’ She would say all peaceful. Alaina let collapses form for the purpose of saying the difficult things and unchanging no matter who was in her house or what was on tv. My mother had been to hospitals when she was young, but my mental state was not similar - she was a worried mess a giver, OCD even and found hardships with all sorts of health interferences like cancer. 

Alaina could not smile - even if she did she would think she was losing it and getting weaker; lazy too or psychotic. The hospital will keep her around people all with a schedule, and hopefully finally give medicine a chance, and give herself a break from cosmic mismatches or rings, both intertwining then imploding for the sake of reaching beyond reincarnation for the slash.

Alaina left me a voice message. 

‘…and that sort of thing - what if it would have shaped and shaped me? I am terrified but will see it thru. My senses are preschool and I have corrupted connections and if I am to disarm violence then it will be odd after. When they look: I wait or not. Ha. Catatonic or conscience angel they think. The doctor put me on a medicine and I blacked out: walked straight into a wall: fell and fell wstraight back onto my skull on  the ground to only ask if I fell. The group sessions at mock-shift pointing - I remember titles of poems but not the words and as long as some of these things keep the sonder as filter for…oops, gotta go! Take care…’ 

~~~~~~~

Someone took my picture and said I would be grateful. An old friend told me she had not kissed anyone ever, but we just jumped on the trampoline anyway. We jumped in the pool - one told one that I read their favorite book. A boy made hamburgers and showed us his printed photography. People embraced each other but I backed away - and the others that were backing away I wanted to embrace, but I just smoked cigarettes standing still as the earth spun in our summer. Even if high school was the thing that kept us on our toes, maybe frightened, and this backyard could actually be lied in and someone will come looking for you or not. You could be playing the piano and someone would fall from a balcony. If you tuck in an upset friend: you do not ever have to go to a party again but still can get free or cheap tattoos. You can refuse a handshake because of sweaty palms, but still turn on a song about spirit there and feeling lost. You will be best friends at a different party but they say you smell bad here. You can see Christians giddy off one shot of vodka, or think of dimensions on the floor where those photographs were laid out. 

You can work on mending your life at work or not. My aunt said she did not want to be called beautiful. She refused help and she said she had tried everything. I will never understand anyone. People will be worse or better off - go to school or do not - have depression or just happy - have purpose or burn out…these things do not determine value, and seeing Alaina maneuver Light while sacrificing her energy for the better of people - to love and look out for others, without ever suggesting guilt or bitterness: can not believe it.

The first time we had sex I cried looking into her eyes, and then alone when I went to the shower. Alaina will be remembered - not only by me but the world. Her video viewers latch onto the string of connections that the source would shape glory - yet, she does not leave the living room but remains the most loving creature with the love finding its way because it rightly should and is the most necessary story the world knows. Alaina will end crying - every woman shines and the rest of the animals of the world, and all the stars in the sky will align in her eyes: looking directly at me changing my sad tears into knowing safety like my aunt and mother are still here. 

Silly, simple me viewing pictures of ladybugs, jazz music, best friendships, dancing, flowers, trees, music, tattoos, laughing, blogs, coffee, paintings, names,…and the rest; all vivid and seeing with new eyes - heroes everywhere and everything everyday. And what a day! This evening the chosen boys will spend some time a girl named Alaina - I sure hope she is rested, and writing stuff down to share or not. 

We are proud of her, and the sun has been shining - we are off the drugs, and against her demons and grayness: we are coming together for her to hear about God and where he is at according to the one I trust. 

Zack and I waited in the cafeteria with other friends and families for the other patients, all will be gathered shortly. Myself, I was running my red pen thru some rough drafts with a new motivation of expression, and seeing how crafts build to reveal a moment in spectacle - Zack was calmly staring up at the clock, running his hands thru his beard, and tapping his foot very so lightly.

~

‘What was that?’

We sat in the parking lot staring forward. He touched my face and kissed me on the cheek. The hour for ourselves on the way home made me think of a specific medicine and guilt. Alaina looked dead - they murdered her with medicine and when she laid her arms on the table, looking at the table: she mentioned that they were telling her she was gay and quite ill with schizophrenia and gave her the disruptiveness shot that she was still drowned by.

‘Doctors do not know shit!’ I said as we pulled into their place. We closed in in the night thru the door.

I found zero inside but an ever glowing new hell that angels hinted that God saved - hint: are you ready? Do I want everyone to know? He told me to still. They, they, they, they, what? He asked, ‘Which ring of grace?’ - mothbethelmeen; familiar. 

~~~~~~~~~~

  ‘What if I dream of morning glee? - and an almost freedom stifled by a company I was born into. I’ll walk a mile in heaviness; starting fires but so putting them out because I just want to be alone. Maybe I’ll float and see the moon; a different, but my darkness around new light. But I get sick quick, become a star killer too. You have to settle and dream about other things. If you don’t, you may get real skinny and cut away. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. So you gain, make some new friends around lamp posts. You stretch out your hands and it is dark. The universe gets patted in and you walk outside and scramble for a match but it’s gone - everything is gone. You wail for friendship and get stuck in a four-walled-derange with nothing but you and your best friend: darkness…’

Dart responses theon / spelling bee AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH 1231_

=)

645372@protonmail.com

[lovely-bangtan7]

Iam Going To Be The Very Best Prologue

BTS FANFICTION

Genre: Pokemon!Au

Word Count: 1052

Warnings: -none-

A/n: This is my very first Fanfiction Series! It doesn’t contain any Reader-Character or OC. There are only the BTS Members and some other Idols mentioned I hope that I have written it well and that you guys are going to enjoy it! I am not very good at writing FanFictions like others are, but I am doing my best! I am open to any criticism so I can improve my writing! But please no hate! Also, I have used a Render in the cover above (which I found on DeviantArt the is here!) and I really hope it turned out good. This is only the Prologue, I think I will update the Chapters on every SATURDAY!

Enjoy reading!

Arcain opens the battle with a bite attack against Venusaur, but Venusaur jumps back to avoid the move using vine whip. The crowd is cheering, excited about the Pokémon match between the two famous Pokémon-trainers Kim Namjoon and Choi Seung-Hyun also known as Top.

„Venusaur use Poison Power!“ Top commands his friend „and then use tackle!“ The Pokémon does as said and creates some damage against Arcain. „Arcain! Stand up! I believe in you, my friend! I know that you can win!“ Namjoon shouts to Arcain, who is barely able to stand on its own feet due to the poison. „IS THIS THE DEFEAT OF ARCAIN? THE BATTLE HAS STARTED ONLY SECONDS AGO AND ARCAIN SEEMS TO BE LOOSING IT! WHAT WILL NAMJOON DO NOW? WHAT WILL BE THE NEXT MOVE?!“ The moderator shouts into his microphone and looks down at the battle going on in front of him.This battle is intense since the beginning.

„Arcain, you okay? Can you attack once again with your full power like you always do?“ Although Arcain has problems standing on his own feet, he still responses his trainer with a small nod. You can actually see that both Namjoon and Arcain are strong-willed, not daring to give up this soon. They really want to win this battle.

„That’s the Arcain I know! Okay, use Fire Fang!“ Namjoon’s Pokémon gathers all its energy to attack Venusaur. The fire fang move has hit Venusaur right into its face and establishing great damage to the Pokémon. This fire move is fatal against a Grass-type Pokémon, but Venusaur is still on his feet, albeit being injured badly. This Pokémon has been trained well, to hold against such a great attack. Now Namjoon needs to use one single move to win against Venusaur. „Arcain! Use Tackle to end this battle ultimately!“

Right after the fire fang, Arcain sprints in Venusaur’s direction, who is affected by the previous attack. Arcain’s move hits him with a lot of power, which causes Venusaur to fall on the ground. The crowd is cheering loudly, Venusaur is unable to fight. This round goes to Kim Namjoon.

„THAT WAS AWESOME! A FEW MINUTES AGO IT LOOKED LIKE VENUSAUR’S GOING TO WIN THIS ROUND, BUT WITH A COMBINATION OF TWO ATTACKS ARCAIN HAS DEFINITELY DEFEATED VENUSAUR. THAT’S TYPICAL FOR KIM NAMJOON, ALWAYS SURPRISING HIS FANS WITH HIS SUU-PER SKILLS! The moderator shouts excited into his small microphone, hyped about the interesting battle going on in the arena.

Namjoon has a proud little smile, glad that his friend has stayed strong. „ You are the best Arcaine, take some rest.“ with that, he takes Arcaine back into its Poké-ball. „Which Pokémon will be chosen now?“ The moderator trying to catch his own breath from his excited shouting and attempts to observe the actions of the two trainers. What will be the next move? What is going to happen now? Which Pokémon will brawl each other now?

Namjoon takes a Poké-ball out of his pocket, as well as the other trainer. Both are staring at each, both being determined to win this battle. After a few seconds, they are throwing their Poké-ball’s into the field, screaming their Pokémon names. The crowd continues to scream in excitement. T.O.P.  Has chosen Alakazam, a psyche type Pokémon, as Namjoon picked Magneton as his nest Pokémon. „Okay Magneton lets win this round, too!“ „Alakazam, you can do it!“ The Trainers are rooting for their Pokémon, determined to win. „Alakazam use kinesis! Lower the Accuracy of Magneton!“ „Magneton- MAGNET BOMB! DON’T GET HIT BY ITS ATTACK!“ Namjoon screeches but the attack of the psyche Pokémon has already harmed Magneton, who is confused and flies a few meter backwards. „Damn…“ the young boy, Namjoon curses under his breath. „I can’t lose now..!“ He is reflecting all of his Training in the past few years, remembering any move that he can use, only to create a little damage against Alakazam, just to get a chance to fully attack this Pokémon. „I can’t loose time, I have to something. Magneton use Electro Ball!“

His Pokémon is trying hard to attack his opponent, despite being confused. Unfortunately, this move failed it’s target and hits the wall of the field creating a cloud of dust. As Namjoon is too focused about his friend’s state and calculating the next move, Magneton gets hit with Focus Beam. This has a great effect on Magneton, however, Magneton tries to stand against Alakazam. It’s too proud to lose against this Pokémon. Nevertheless, Alakazam uses Charge Beam- an Electric Beam. This Move was also learned by Alakazam. „Learning a lot of new moves. Top shows that he is a purposeful trainer, who trains his Pokémon good!“ With that Alakazam is the winner of the second round and Magneton is unable to fight.

„I am sorry Magneton, I will train more for you, to become a better Trainer. I promise you. With that the young trainer sends Pikachu into the battle, not losing his goal of winning against Top. Meanwhile, after his small victory against Magneton, TOP has chosen his next Pokémon – Pidgeot. It’s a head on head battle. Both trainers are incredible skilled and their strong Pokémon. The Battle growing more intense by every minute passing by. Who will win the final round of the Indigo League? The young Trainer Kim Namjoon, who has already won last year? Or the much more experienced Trainer T.O.P, who has won a lot of leagues and is well known? The crowds cheering is being heard all over Indigo Plateau. Also, a lot of fans are watching the battle in front of their tv’s, cheering from the distance.

The same goes for a little boy, living in Pallet Town. A boy of almost 10 years, soon facing his own journey of being a Pokémon-trainer. The boy cheers happily in front of his tiny Tv, wearing blue pyjamas with different little Pokémon printed on it. His room filled with pictures and plush toys of Pokémons. 

„I am going to be the very best, just like Kim Namjoon!“

[poetspade45-blog]

Letter to the Editor: Matthew Clemente’s Response to Kevin Hart’s “A Return to God After God”

JANUARY 13, 2019

Matthew Clemente’s Response to Kevin Hart’s “A Return to God After God” (November 25, 2018)

IT IS UNCOUTH to respond to a review of one’s work — this can be admitted from the start. Doubly so when one holds one’s reviewer in high regard, as I earnestly do. I have an enormous respect for Kevin Hart, who is not only a careful scholar but also a genuine artist, someone who brings together theology, philosophy, poetry, and the artistry of living in the manner called for by The Art of Anatheism. What is more, I was honored and humbled by Dr. Hart’s interest in the two works I co-edited. His review was thorough and thoughtful, engaging not only the volumes themselves but the philosophical currents that inspired them. Nevertheless, after reading the review I could not help but to feel that — out of fairness to our contributors who put so much time, care, and effort into their chapters — a couple of his claims necessitated responses.

First, Hart makes the assertion that “not many of the contributors have a rich knowledge of theology […] Many in the collections seem to be theological liberals, but theirs is not the theological liberalism of Ritschl or Tillich; it is a liberalism home grown in the thin soil of cultural studies.” Admittedly, I myself have not undergone the type of rigorous theological training needed to plumb the depths of my own Roman Catholic tradition. But I don’t believe the same could be said of, say, Emmanuel Falque, who has written extensively on the Church Fathers — in particular, Irenaeus, Tertullian, Origen, and Augustine — as well as medieval theologians such as Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Bonaventure, and Erigena. John Panteleimon Manoussakis’s most recent book, The Ethics of Time (2017), proposes one of the more original, yet orthodox readings of Augustine’s Confessions in recent memory. It does so, in part, by developing key concepts such as the problem of movement (kinesis) in the thought of Maximus the Confessor, and the understanding of the diastemic nature of fallen creation in the writings of Gregory of Nyssa, then relating them to contemporary thinkers, including theologians like Hans Urs von Balthasar and John Zizioulas. Another contributor, Marianne Moyaert, has spent her career developing the notion of “Comparative Theology,” which attempts to “help theologians to further develop their doctrinal traditions” by encouraging them to engage rigorously with the sacred texts of other faiths. And, as Hart rightly notes, Christina Gschwandtner has written clear and careful treatments of many theologians and philosophers of religion, including a remarkably thorough consideration of the works of Ephrem the Syrian, in one of the volumes under review. All these scholars possess a rich understanding of Christian theology. None of them, as far as I am aware, considers himself or herself to be a theological liberal. Nor, I think, would most impartial observers question the depth of theological understanding of some of the more renowned contributors to the volumes such as Julia Kristeva, Thomas Altizer, John Caputo, and Jean-Luc Nancy.

Second, Hart writes, “I found myself asking why almost all the contributors seem so uninterested in putting pressure on Kearney’s ideas. It is strange […] upon completing these two volumes one would put them down with a sense that anatheism is the very last word in the philosophy of religion, with little to be said by way of correction.” This assertion struck me as odd for two reasons. First, because The Art of Anatheism — which I co-edited with Kearney — makes plain that its purpose is to “further develop the anatheist proposal.” That is, to explore how “anatheism — the return to God after the death of God — opens naturally to a philosophy of theopoetics.” The import of Kearney’s thesis is, as expressly stated, to be assumed. Second, and more to the point, it is patently untrue that neither volume includes criticism of Kearney’s work. Indeed, the very critiques that Hart raises in his review are addressed at length. “One target of Kearney’s criticism,” he writes, “endorsed by several of his admirers, is Christian dogma […] before agreeing to dissolve or at least minimize reliance on doctrine, one might want to be given good reasons why one should do so.” A fair point — one which Marianne Moyaert explicitly makes in her essay “Anatheism and Inter-Religious Hospitality.” Distancing herself from Kearney, she writes:

I share with Kearney the firm conviction that a spirit of interreligious hospitality has the potential to break through the spiral of tribal tendencies, but I do not share his negative stance on dogmatic traditions. I do not think dogmatic theism necessarily excludes welcoming strange gods; matters are more nuanced.

Relying on documents such as Dei verbum (the Second Vatican Council’s Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation) and the writings of thinkers like John Henry Newman, Moyaert argues that her “particular dogmatic tradition contains theological resources for dialogue even though it also claims that in Christ, God’s revelation reaches its climax.” Agreeing with Hart’s assertion that “some dogmas, if not all of them, attempt to indicate mysteries,” she concludes that “Catholic theology also acknowledges that Deus semper maior est. Not only do we not grasp the fullness of his revelation; his gracious self-communication extends beyond the boundaries of our own Christian tradition.”

Hart writes: “It is odd that, over the course of two quite thick volumes, there is no concern registered about what one might retrieve of the sacred in the brave new world that Kearney sketches […] not all the sacred is benign. Some of it is quite malign.” This critique finds echoes in both books under review. Manoussakis dedicates a sizable portion of his essay to “Destructive Poetics, Painful Pleasure, and the Erotics of Thanatos.” Freud, Nietzsche, Lacan, Sartre, and Deleuze factor heavily in this anatheistic reading of the death drive and its relation to the divine. Jacob Rogozinski, in “The Twofold Face of God,” examines the horrible ambiguity of the divine in the story of Abraham — the God who demands the sacrifice of Isaac. Jean-Luc Nancy and James Wood each provide critical challenges to anatheism from atheistic perspectives. (Nancy even counters Kearney’s interpretation of da Messina’s Annunciata, offering a reading of his own. Where Kearney reads the painting as the secular made sacred, Nancy reads it as the sacred made profane.) And L. Callid Keefe-Perry, in “The Wager That Wasn’t,” questions whether Kearney sets up an authentic wager at all — whether the risk of choosing a “malign” deity is even possible for the anatheist proposal. “Kearney wants anatheism to persist in a moment of true tension […] And yet, I cannot help but to wonder if, in fact, the philosopher doth protest too much.”

It is neither my job nor my intention to review the reviewer or even his review. I hesitated before writing this response. As I said above, I have nothing but respect for Kevin Hart, and I would not have written this had I not felt that I owed it to the exceptional scholars who contributed to the two volumes; I felt obligated to highlight the rigor and clarity of their work. It is my hope that this congenial reply fosters more dialogue around what I consider to be a vital topic, and that it emphasizes not only the exactness we demand of our scholars, but also the hospitality, generosity, and goodwill characteristic of all those engaged in a genuine pursuit of wisdom.

¤

Kevin Hart’s Response to Matthew Clemente

Matthew Clemente thinks I have been a little rough with regard to the two collections of essays on Richard Kearney with which he has been involved. The review struck me as benign, all the more so because I put Kearney front and center in the review; he is not only a friend but also a philosopher whose itinerary is close to my own in some respects. In more than one way, Kearney and I belong to the same family, and I would like to see him treated well. That Clemente also wishes to treat him well is evident; and at heart we disagree more about the importance of historical knowledge and the proper treatment of intellectual positions than the rightness of the path Kearney has taken.

Doubtless that knowledge and treatment would have been more expressly articulated had I composed a long and careful essay on anatheism and its supporters. However, a review is a short piece, written partly to indicate to potential buyers if a given book is something they should own, and partly to maintain as high a standard of intellectual debate as is possible in the media. To be sure, I regret that so much discussion of religion these days is conducted without due knowledge of theology and the history of theology; it means that our intellectual engagements with religion, which are so important, are conducted with reference mainly to the living present, and often in ignorance of important distinctions, concepts, arguments, and practices. Clemente begins by conceding his own lack of “rigorous theological training,” which does not put him in a particularly good place from which to speak about my criticisms. He then identifies four contributors who, he thinks, are theologically well educated, one of whom I mention in the review for the depth of her knowledge of a writer in the early Church. Three contributors are defended, then, out of 35, which I take to be consistent with my judgment that “not many of the contributors have a rich knowledge of theology” [my emphasis].

Clemente also objects to my caveat that there is little offered by way of criticism of Kearney’s project. Any interesting idea benefits by having smart and well-educated people put pressure on it, and this can be done in all sorts of ways. One can examine examples that Kearney gives, ponder different ways of drawing distinctions than the ones he proposes, and explore counter-examples to his case. These things, along with several others, help the community to assess the value and strength of a position. What’s more, they help the author to sharpen his or her ideas and so produce the best work possible.

It’s true: I did not find enough of this critical practice in the two volumes under review. According to Clemente, my discontent was because I did not notice that the contributors sought to “further develop” Kearney’s ideas. On the contrary, I did; but I thought that the bulk of the two volumes simply didn’t engage those ideas at a level that would make anyone wish to take them up in preference to others that are also put before us in conferences, seminars, libraries, bookshops, journals, and the media. No doubt I could have applauded two friends, Emmanuel Falque and John Manoussakis, among others, for the depth of their philosophical and theological knowledge; and no doubt I could have thrown up my hands, for the umpteenth time, when reading Jean-Luc Nancy, who plays a very loose game with monotheism, and whose prose strikes me as rough and ready at best. But a review is a review, not an essay and not an exercise in grading term papers; and a review of two edited collections, with a total of 35 different contributions, must look a little more often to the mile than to the inch.

¤

Matthew Clemente is a teaching fellow at Boston College specializing in philosophy of religion and contemporary continental thought. He is author of Out of the Storm: A Novella and is editor (with Richard Kearney) of The Art of Anatheism.

Kevin Hart is the Edwin B. Kyle Professor of Christian Studies at the University of Virginia. His most recent books are Barefoot (Notre Dame University Press, 2018) and Poetry and Revelation (Bloomsbury, 2018). He is currently preparing a set of Gifford Lectures to deliver at the University of Glasgow.

Source: https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/letter-to-the-editor-matthew-clementes-response-to-kevin-harts-a-return-to-god-after-god/

[twistedstorm]

All of the questions for the most recent ask meme you reblogged. The one you said in the tags you really liked.

Oh your god I love you dear anon for sending this! 

Here we go:

1. What are your nicknames? What do you prefer to be called? Sassy, Champ, sissy, princess, sweetie pie, sarwhale, about a million others because most of my family uses nicknames for me. In real life I mostly go by Sarah or Seth but as you know on here I go by Zeta and prefer Ze or ZZ to anything else and honestly if it wasn’t for the fact that almost nobody in my real life would call me ZZ or Zeta I would go by those names in real life too probably. 

2. What books on your shelf are begging to be read? The entire Infernal Devices series, Styxx, Mark of Athena, Born of Fire, Magnus Chase, about a hundred more…

3. How often do you doodle? What do your doodles look like? I doodle constantly. My doodles vary from little stick figure comics to weird shapes to just various lines filling up empty spaces and weird hearts and coffins and skulls and eyes…a lot of eyes….I really like eyes…oh and a tiny demon smiley face thing that I’ve been drawing forever.  

4. What do you do if you can’t sleep at night? Do you count sheep? Toss and Turn? Try to get up and do something productive? Well if I’m being honest I read, watch movies, imagine elaborate dream scenarios, or masturbate. Any combination of those four usually puts me to sleep. If none of those work I get up and get dressed and eat because there’s no point in trying after all that. 

5. How many days could you last in solitary confinement? How would you do it? Probably about four, if I had my ipod I could last at least seven. I’d just daydream or write and listen to music and dance and talk to myself or my characters in my head until I got bored, it’d be the boredom that drove me crazy honestly. 

6. Do you save old greeting cards and letters? Throw them away? I’m a sentimental pack rat so I save everything from movie tickets to pressed flowers to paper wristbands to gift tags. I have most of my old birthday/Christmas cards from after I turned 10 just in random places all over my room. 

7. Who is the biggest pack rat you know? Me, my grandma is a close second though. 

8. When making an entrance in to a party, do you make your presence known? Do you slip in and look for someone you know? Do you sneak in quietly and find a safe spot to roost? I don’t go to parties much but the few I’ve been to I always arrive with a friend and then stick to them like glue for the rest of the night or hiding in a corner texting someone about how I wanna go home…or if I’m drinking I end up dancing and befriending people by accident because drunk/tipsy me is funny and sometimes flirty (as long as a I keep my clothes on I’m happy though) 

9. What is your strongest sense? If you had to give one up, which would it be? Probably hearing or smell I’d say. I actually have really sensitive ears and can hear insanely high frequencies (like dog whistles) and I can pick up tiny little bits of smells for a long time (especially when I’m really hormonal, hormones make it so much worse. Seriously if it’s shark week I can smell everything and I will end you if you smell like something awful and you stand near me) although I’m allergic to body sprays and perfume and anything like that which really sucks….Anyway if I had to lose a sense….I can’t pick one….sorry but the idea of losing one really messes with my head so I’m not gonna think about it.. 

10. How many times a day do you look at yourself in the mirror? Lots….I used to do it to pint out my flaws to myself but now it’s usually because I think I look good and I like to see it to remind myself that I’m gorgeous just the way I am 

11. What is the strangest thing you believed as a child? That there was a tiny leprechaun in the vent in my bathroom ceiling….That’s the weirdest thing I can think of right now but there was probably weirder ones honestly….wait I know! I believed I was a straight monogamous cis girl for a really long time as a kid! That’s pretty weird for me seeing as how none of those things were right at all! 

12. What is one guilty pleasure you enjoy too much to give up? Boyband/Cheesy pop music and the Twilight movies/books, I love them and I will always love them no matter how awful and stupid they are. 

13. Who performs the most random acts of kindness out of everyone you know? I dunno….my mom’s pretty good about that stuff….but so are most of my friends….yeah I can’t pick so my mom and my friends all tie for it 

14. How often do you read the newspaper? Which paper? Which sections? Never

15. Which animals scare you most? Why? Geese or flying insects or Goliath birdeater tarantulas or tiny spiders because every time I see any of these I am convinced that I am going to die and it will be because of them. 

16. Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on? Both but avoidance is slightly more likely as I am afraid of conflict to the very core of my being and am bad at facing it unless I’m facing it for someone else’s sake.  

17. What was the most recent compliment you’ve received and savoured? I dunno….one of my best friends told me he missed hanging out with me and that made me almost cry because I’m a big fucking nerd so there’s that one…I could think of more but I’mma just say that one for now

18. What is something about yourself that you hope will change, but probably never will? I’m still hoping for pyro or hydro kinesis or shapeshifting….or the ability to have a backbone and talk about my feelings like a properly functioning human

19. Are you a creature of habit? Explain. Yes, I like my routines and I get really weird without them and will probably do them until I die

20. Are you high maintenance? Explain. I genuinely dunno, like maybe? Maybe not? I dunno

21. When was the last time you really pushed yourself to your physical limits? When I walked for nearly three hours out of boredom and my calves hurt so bad that I could barely stand anymore like four days ago 

22. Do you have a whole lot of acquaintances or just a few very close friends? Why? I have a small group of carefully chosen friends and many acquaintances but I prefer my small friend group because I like small groups and my friends are my favorite people on earth so I justreally love being with them. 

23. Are you more inclined to “build your own empire” or unleash the potential of others? Both probably, like yeah I could probably take over the world alone but I’d be bored and lonely and it’d be so much easier and so much more fun with my nerds beside me 

24. What’s a strange occurrence you’ve experienced but have never (or rarely) shared with anyone? I share my weird experiences with everyone honestly so I can’t really think of anything…I guess I could go with the thing where sometimes the air from my fan in my room will hit my hears wrong and it always sounds like a creepy voice saying my name and it terrifies me so much that I sleep with a blanket over my ears so I don’t have to ever deal with it again. 

25. What do you think about more than anything else? Right now it’s love/relationships/friendships. Specific to two people actually. I think about the possibilities for me and those two people and our relationships with each other and others and how everything is gonna work out and what I can do to help everything work out well and if we’re gonna be happy one day. Oh and how happy we’ll be if it works out the way I’m hoping because even my tarot cards say that it’s gonna be good :) 

26. What’s something that amazes you? How much me and my life has changed in just the last year and how much more it;s gonna change in the coming times

27. Do you prefer that people shoot straight with you or temper their words? Why? I’d rather people shoot straight with me, I can handle painful truth but I cannot deal with lies or sugar coating. Just say you’ve got to say and we’ll deal with it after. 

28. Where’s your favourite place to take an out-of-town guest? I have never had an out of town guest so I don’t know

29. What’s one thing you’d rather pay someone to do than do yourself? Why? My laundry, I hate it. It’s tedious and boring and I loathe doing it. 

30. Do you have a catchphrase? I have a few actually: “So that happened” “I’ll eviscerate you with a shrimp fork” “Go fuck a cactus/ Get fucked by a cactus” “I’m not drunk enough for this” “In other news/On an unrelated note/wanna hear something weird” “I am a child” “The last living thing inside of me just died” “He can’t help you now” in response to anyone who says Jesus Christ and “I only have three feelings: Hungry, horny, and angry” are some of my favorites. 

31. What’s your reaction towards people who are outspoken about their beliefs? What conditions cause you to dislike or, conversely, enjoy talking with them? I’m outspoken so I think it’s good as long as you know the difference between stating your opinion and being a bigoted or judgmental asshat who says shitting awful things and claims that it’s fine because you’re just “stating your opinion”. I do enjoy talking about different points of view though as long as the person I’m talking to is respectful of my beliefs (because I will make damn sure to be respectful of theirs) so we can have a civil and interesting conversation. 

32. How and where do you prefer to study? Never and nowhere, I’m really bad a studying so I just don’t (or rather didn’t because I’m not in school anymore) 

33. What position do you sleep in? On my back or either side, usually all three at some point during the night 

34. What’s your all-time favourite town or city? Why? My own, so Calgary. Mostly because I grew up here and have never really been too many other places long enough to get attached 

35. What are the top three qualities that draw you to someone new? Sense of humor, love of similar or the same fandoms (excellent way to make friends), talking to me first cause I’m a pansy. 

36. How has your birth order/characteristics of siblings affected you? I’m the youngest of two, it’s mostly just made me want to beat my brother up but I feel like lots of people feel that way so I guess other than being called a “baby sister” and sometimes being treated like a total incompetent dumbass or pansyass crybaby for being younger it’s pretty much a whatever thing   

37. If you could eliminate one weakness or limitation in your life, what would it be? I’d stop running away from my feelings and really say what was on my mind to a few certain people….also I’d have shapeshifting because it would totally help so much

38. If you could restore one broken relationship, which would it be? Me and my dad or me and my mom or me and my brother or me and my sister, take your pick, they’re all fucked up in one way or another, some worse than others

39. If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to? Zeta, without a doubt

40. Do you believe ignorance is bliss? Why or why not? In a way yes and in a way no. Personally I would rather know and understand thing sin my life than not know but I also have days where I wish I could be a dumbass five year old again and not know how fucked up this world is so I could be totally worry free and happy for another five minutes 

41. What do you consider unforgivable? A few things, cheating on me or heavily lying to me are pretty high up there for me or saying awful shit about me to other people to try and fuck me over is pretty bad too (also things like rape and hate crime obviously but I wanted to focus more on my own personal unforgivable stuff) and there’s more but I wanna be positive. 

42. Have you forgiven yourself for past personal failures? Why or why not? I’ve been working on it, it’s been hard and it’s gonna continue to be hard but I’m getting there slowly. I kinda figure if I can work on forgiving others I should be able to forgive myself too 

43. How difficult is it for you to forgive someone who refuses to apologize? I wish I could say nearly impossible but I’m kind of a pushover and I sometimes forgive too easily when I shouldn’t…Hell half the time I’ll just make up some excuse for the person in my head and pretend that they apologized instead of waiting for them to apologize because I know they won’t 

44.Do you hold any convictions that you would be willing to die for? Sure, I don;t feel like listing them but there are a few

45. To what extent do you trust people? Explain. Either too much or not at all and it’s almost never the right choice for the right person (sometimes I get lucky and I end up with amazing friends in my life whom I trust with all of me and whom I would kill and die for) 

46. In what area of your life are you immature? Most of them honestly. Like I’m a dumbass kid in the body of a tiny adult but I’m smart and I’m aware of what I know and what I don’t know and I like to learn new things and new views on life and I’m capable of defending my opinions on things and debating intelligently and being a reasonable adult but I’m also a dumbass kid who likes playing on swings and playing grounders and jumping in puddles so you take your own conclusions from this. 

47. What was the best news you ever received? I dunno….hearing anyone say that care about me/like me/love me/are thinking about me is collectively the best news cause I crave that validation and affection 

48. How difficult is it for you to be honest, even when your words may be hurtful or unpopular? It can be difficult but I’m always striving to be an honest person which means I’m going to tell people the truth but I understand the difference between the truth and being an asshole to someone so while I won’t sugarcoat my words I will phrase them in such a way that I’m not needlessly hurting someone 

49. When did you immediately click with someone you just met? Why? What was the long term result? Conversely, are you close with anyone now that you really disliked at first? Most of my best friends. I met one of them first day of grade 10 in drama and that was it, we were friends and we’re still friends now (fuck I fell in love with him in fact because we clicked so well). Sometimes it just happens and when it does I usually try my hardest to keep the person around me because I think if we clicked then we were meant to be in each others lives one way or another. 

50. When do you find yourself singing? Always, I sing everywhere and anywhere for no reason. I just love to sing and I hate keeping it in. 

Thank you again lovely anon for sending this in! This was super fun and I loved answering all these questions so much!

Feel free to send me in more asks! Ask meme related or otherwise!

~ZZ

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Larkspur

I present to you Kinesis: Chapter 10, please feel free to look for all previous and future chapters on my Master List and under the “Kinesis” tag :) Love you all!

Warnings: none?

[MC]

Larkspur

With a bag of sewing supplies packed and enough food and water to last you a few days, you said your goodbyes to everyone still left in the old Azuchi building in Solidago City. You were terrified but in an exciting sort of way. With very little knowledge of where you were going or who you were looking for, this could, as Yoshimoto and Hideyoshi had pointed out, go very poorly. However, there was a chance that you would get your memory back, and that made this adventure well worth the risk. 

Mitsuhide had written out very detailed instructions, including exactly when your train would be leaving Solidago City and every stop along the way to Larkspur. It was thorough, incredibly so; you just hoped it would be enough information to get you to where you needed to be. 

The trip was a half day’s train ride which wouldn’t have been so bad had the scenery not been barred from view. You could only guess that the blinders added to the windows were new, based on the whining of small children an hour or so into the ride. 

What could be so bad that they needed to keep the public from seeing the cities and countryside as it passed by in a flash? The question remained unanswered your entire trip, though your ignorance didn’t make the sinking feeling in your stomach any better. You’d have to write Nobunaga about that when you got a chance. 

The station you entered in Larkspur was vast and gray as people buzzed all around you as if nothing was going on outside it’s walls. It was well kept and in clear running order, a far cry from the ashen brick remains of Solidago City’s Central, now more an overhang next to tracks than a station. 

People paid you little mind as you wandered around, trying to find your way to the south exit. The signs weren’t hard to read, but there was so much to see. Slapping your cheeks, you bolstered your spirits and concentrated at the task at hand. You could explore the city later. 

The southern exit had three security checkpoints. Seeing as you had minimal baggage, no weapons, and a handful of medical documents explaining your situation, you made it through quickly. At least Mitsuhide had been right about one thing. 

Following the crowd up the staircase, you smiled as the sun warmed your face, finally some fresh air. The breeze was salty and carried the promise of the sea, with a smile on your face, you walked the open sidewalks towards the home that had been set up in advance for your stay. You would be living with one of Nobunaga’s old assistants who had fled after the attack in Solidago. 

The home itself was pretty traditional, sharing no resemblance to its more modern neighbors. With a gentle knock, you stood and waited on the extensive wooden decking.  A man answered the door with a dazzling smile. He was beautiful, with hair the color of lavender petals and eyes as clean as stainless steel. 

“Hello, I’m (YN). I believe I am supposed to be staying here for the time being.” You bowed trying to be as polite as possible. 

“Mori, Ranmaru Mori. It’s a pleasure to meet you. There’s no need to be so formal, we look to be about the same age after all.” Ranmaru beamed as he opened his door wide and stepped out of your way, inviting you into his home. 

“Thank you, I hope I’m not too much of a burden while I’m here.” You smiled, quickly slipping out of your shoes and placing them in an empty spot on the rack. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just lay low for a bit, and it’ll all work out.” He looked briefly both ways, checking outside one last time before finally shutting the door. “As it stands, I’m happy to be your second in command. You’re already way nicer than I expected.”

“Oh gosh, now I’m worried about what they told you!” Your face flared red as you fretted over your impression. 

“Nothing too bad, though I did hear you got a few good hits on some high ranking rebel leaders.” Ranmaru winked as he took you by the hand and pulled you into the house. “Now c’mon, I’ll help get you situated then give you a grand tour of the city.”

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Barriers

I present to you Kinesis: Chapter 8, please feel free to look for all previous and future chapters on my Master List and under the “Kinesis” tag :) Love you all!

Warnings: Kenshin do you need more of a warning?

[MC]

Barriers

“That’s not funny, and you know it.” You didn’t even blink when Mitsuhide put his hands on your shoulders. This is what he was known for, or at least what you knew him for. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t find it funny because I certainly wasn’t trying to be.” Mitsuhide gave your shoulders a squeeze before swiveling you to face a very serious looking Nobunaga.

“Why? This has bad idea written all over it.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you stared him down. “You want me, the one with amnesia, the one who was just released from the hospital a few weeks ago to start and lead a new section of the rebellion while also looking for a man that I can assume I’ve never met before?”

“Precisely Little Mouse.” Mitsuhide got in as a nervous murmur began to take hold of the crowd. “Nobody recognizes you. General Gael deemed you some poor wench himself, so I’m certain that’s already reflected in whatever public record they made up for you. This means that you pose zero threat, there is no reason to bar you from entering Larkspur.”

“That means (YN) has certain freedoms that most of us are not privy to anymore,” The man addressed as Shingen spoke up, uncrossing his legs as he leaned forward, his elbows now resting on the table. “While that all checks out, what can you say of (YN)’s combat skills? You can’t just throw such a wonderful gift from the heavens into a hostile situation with no way to defend themselves.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Our little Fireball over here disarmed both Hideyoshi and Mitsunari while simultaneously fending off Masamune and Ieyasu fresh out of the hospital and without a weapon of their own. I’d say they’re plenty capable.” Nobunaga smirked. 

“Again, just because you think I’m capable doesn’t mean this is a good idea.” You added, waving your hands as your brow creased out of concern. 

“I don’t know about that. It’s hard to find people who talk to Nobunaga like you do, you can see Hideyoshi’s agony from over here. I’d say that makes you at least a candidate of consideration.” Masamune chuckled as he winked, blinked? “Besides, you’ve got claws Kitten, no reason to doubt yourself.”

“Not doubting myself, just this plan.” Defeated, you leaned back in your chair. “This is ridiculous.”

“I agree, enough chatter.” The man who had been introduced as Kenshin stood, and before you could blink his sword was drawn, and he was charging at you. 

Gods! I’m being attacked again? What is wrong with these people? It only took a second, without a thought to spare, you moved on instinct. Barely dodging Kenshin's first strike as the sword lodged itself in the plush part of the chair where your head had just been. Planting both hands on the armrests, you swung your legs up and locked them around Kenshin’s neck before swinging them up and over towards the left. 

Kenshin was laid out on the ground just long enough for you to register the moment of surprise on his face before a smile you really didn’t like took over. Not good! A crackle of electricity formed in his hand and just like that he was armed again. Really? Lightning sword? Why? Why you? 

You ran towards the opposite wall, hoping to put some space between the two of you. Hoping the distance would let you get a better feel for the situation and yourself. Yes, you were fatigued but not like last time. Feeling bold, you concentrated on the burn you had felt before you passed out, happy when you didn’t feel weak as the sensation grew. 

It started in your chest, traveling to your hands as fast as Kenshin was running at you. The burn turned to pressure that was building and fighting for an outlet. Unable to release the attack you tried again, but this time black spots now filled your vision as the pressure grew intolerable.Thankfully Sasuke, Kenshin’s supposed traveling companion, intervened.  

“That’s quite enough,” Sasuke said through gritted teeth as he deflected two more of Kenshin’s blows. “(YN) appears to be quite capable. Shall we end this demonstration while we still can?”

“Fine, I was growing bored anyway.” Kenshin grunted as he wandered back towards his seat. “You did okay enough.”

“After seeing all of that, though, I do believe I agree with Sir Oda. You are, at the very least able to defend yourself. You may also greatly benefit from seeing Master Kennyo.” Sasuke nodded through his analysis. 

“And what about that last encounter makes you think that?” You said through a heavy exhale.

“Just now you tried to use magic, but it stopped, am I correct?” Sasuke stared at you, and you froze. 

“Yes? How did you know.” Something unsettling churned in your gut as the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

“I have done extensive research in the Arcane Realm. Being able to utilize an Arcane ability myself, it seemed only natural for me to explore and better research where my magic comes from.” Sasuke pushed his glasses up his nose as he took his seat beside Kenshin. “In doing such I’ve become privy to certain flows of energy, yours stopped just before Kenshin could strike.”

“So what if it did. I did just get out of the hospital, maybe my body just needs more time to recuperate.” Your body was just tired, that had to be why it wasn’t working right? Magic was a give and take sort of thing, you just weren’t physically well enough to use it. At least that’s what you had originally thought. 

“On the contrary, I believe you have a plug, a barrier of sorts.” The room fell silent. “Master Kennyo has a vast knowledge of such things, seeing as he can freely travel between the two realms. At the very least he may be able to help you use some of your magic. At best? You could expect to get your memory back.”