#rationa

[imasexypotato]

*In the Stalag III*

Gale: *sitting on his bed, reading. Hasn’t eaten all day*

Gale: *looks up suddenly* Why do I hear boss music?

John: *kicks down the door* GALE WINSTON CLEVEN

Gale: OH FUCK-!

[vox-anglosphere]

Venerable Bede's 7th century manuscript 'On the Reckoning of Time'

[mei-yoi]

my toxic trait is that i love male attention

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨

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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.

A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.

The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.

The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;

A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.

Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.

Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.

Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.

What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.

"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.

He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"

Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."

The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 

A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.

Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 

The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.

This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.

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Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.

Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 

As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.

With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.

Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.

You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 

"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."

"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.

After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?

You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."

Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.

Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 

"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 

He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.

If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 

A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.

His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.

"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.

You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.

"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.

The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.

"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."

After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.

The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.

"Absolute peace."

As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.

"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.

"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."

"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.

As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...

You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.

Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.

Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.

"Another Memory..."

"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.

"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 

"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.

"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 

Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.

"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.

Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.

"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."

The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.

"...and weep for the departed."

A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...

"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.

He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.

Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.

One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.

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Reblog if you like this story

[dynamic-k]

I FORGOT TO SAY THIS TO YOU

LIKE SERIOUSLY SHE WAS ON THE RIGHT PATH THE SHE DECIDED

"stick rational thinking imma js stab and kill my boss"

AND I WAS LIKE-

"FINALLY A CHARACTER WHO THINKS RATIONA-"

...

"stick you"

Q v Q this ask made me cackle and I hurt my throat /pos

Stabby Scene~ Had to be done- U ^ U

[moosetrails]

Never too late to fuck up a Barbie like a kid with a friend. Meet Meat Hammer and Rationa

[revenant-coining]

Love your stuff anyways, I’m the anon from the atsushi and akutagawa asks./gen. Anyways could I have some names and titles for a chuuya (from bsd as well) kin./genq

-✍️ anon

p.s could I be known as ✍️ anon, please.

here ya go; ( + yeah u can be ✍️ anon )

Names: Arro, Hebes, Revel, Gaude, Apricor, Superbia, Fastus, Rationa / Abile, Arte, Ars, Peritia, Fidus / Fidelis, and Gravitas

Titles:

the one upon the tainted sorrow

the arrogant one

the blunt one

the one who revels

the one who revels in fights

one prideful one

the one who taunts

the reasonable one

the skillful one

the loyal one

the one who controls gravity

‘one’ can be replaced with any noun; ‘the one’ can be replaced with any pronoun

@nameresources

[khepiari]

LawLu Fic: Sixth Time's A Charm

Day 6 of LawLu Week 2023 hosted by @lawluevents

AU. Demisexual Introvert Overthinking Law x Demisexual Extrovert Entomologist Luffy! SFW. Only forehead kiss. Fluff.

Is there a limit to how much someone can be so rationa l that they become irrational and that makes them run in a loop of overthinking? There is no limit— the human mind is capable of infinite intelligence and infinite stupidity! And the human heart is only capable of infinite stupidity.

Currently, Dr. Trafalgar Law was driving himself crazy by overthinking irrational thoughts and all this made him conclude love was hard! Love was very hard when your relationship was new and the person you fell for is even younger! It was his fifth attempt to hold his boyfriend’s hand, and he failed royally and also ended up displaying his jealousy!

Read here:

[angelgrovehighschool]

I also want to reiterate it’s not just in romantic relationships … but like yes for the most part … definitely in particular w/ relationships w/ men .. but I kind of thought as a gay person when I grew up I’d be able to spot those things from a mile away and sidestep them but over time it’s like … it is so pervasive to where a person could be like appear to be very rationa have very outwardly queer politics and a resentment for like … yk the nuclear family the American dream whatever

But I rly think a lot of those ideals are soooo deeply ingrained in so many people that I feel like even if it’s something you believe you’ve managed to evolve past it’s still like acting itself out in our lives it’s like a cordyceps we’ve been exposed to the spores and we subconciously acting out like the fucking godfather in our love lives

That doesn’t make sense but it’s troubling me even more bc remember how I said I don’t think I do those things … I do not want to control my partner or other people and I don’t see other people as objects and I don’t think another persons existence or proximity to me should have an impact on like how I view my trajectory in life

[processandproductionsophie]

ARTIST RESEARCH

With my work I plan to explore various ways of memory, working with evocative objects, photographs, drawing. I plan to use objects that are significant to me and explore different ways of exhibiting these objects and so I hope to research into artists that also do this.

I am also interested in specifically exploring childhood and nostalgia and so I plan to research artists that also explore these themes.

Joseph Cornell

What I liked most about Joseph Cornell's work is how he similarly collected items and installed them just as I plan to within my own work, I am inspired by the way that he arranged his objects in such a careful way and evoked the memories associated with the items contained within. Throughout my research, I discovered he works with collages of collected items, such as collaging collected paper materials for the background of his boxes; this is something I am interested in doing also. I particularly like how his work makes me feel a certain emotion towards it, like a homely and nostalgic feeling similar to when looking in boxes of past objects, photos and memories we all collect or have had our parents collect from us growing up, it is like an insight into the artist's life and interests, I feel the use of the box is significant in creating these feelings.

Tracy Emin

Justin Kaminuma

CONTEXTUAL RESEARCH

Evocative Objects: things we think with (Turkle, S.) Novel

As part of my contextual research for my brief, I decided to look at Evocative Objects. I have previously read a few of the essays from the book in my previous project, but I felt this book was even more relevant to the current themes I will be exploring, which will specifically be looking at objects and the memories associated with them, and so I have decided to look back at the book and read further.

One thing I took away from this book is that we are at one with our objects and how we express our creativity and emotions through objects.

“When objects are lost, subjects are found” I really liked this quote, how objects significant to us are carried throughout our lives and lead us. This made me think about when we lose items and package them away for safekeeping and find them or look at them again every so often. It brings up conversations and memories from the past, reminding us of life events, experiences, and things that happened that we forgot about and allows us to revisit these moments and reminisce.

The text describes the kinds of connections we have with objects that help us investigate the richness of these objects as thought as companions and as life companions <<< Objects are active life presences.

Dementia and objects that trigger people’s memory

When searching for artists who explore objects and memory within their practice, I discovered an article called ‘Dementia artwork captures objects that trigger people's memories’ I found it very intriguing and so I had a read and took some notes.

The dementia project was called ‘objects of reference’ the arts project was launched to help raise awareness about how objects can trigger memories in people suffering with dementia - this immediately became an interest for me to continue reading, I thought about how significant objects trigger memory and how crucial everyday objects and photos of people must trigger memories for individuals with dementia and how this is something that could possibly help them through their everyday life. I also found it interesting how simple everyday objects can spark memory for those with dementia despite the everyday struggles.

The project ‘objects of reference’ is a collaboration between artist and De Monfort Univesity outreach worker Jonjo Elliot and Chris Knifton, senior lecturer in Demetria in DMU’s facility of health and life sciences. The photographs were taken of students and staff holding objects that mean something personal to them, their families or loved ones, inspired by dementia therapy which is important part of the care given to people with dementia. It is often easier for people to remember events and people from a long time ago than it is to recall recent memories – so familiar objects from the past, especially those associated with emotional times, could trigger memories.

One thing from the article that I especially liked was the women that held a picture of her father with dentist drinking tea, she explained that her farther often doesn’t know who she is until she goes to make a cup of tea. I found it interesting how a simple notion, object and Imagery can spark memory.

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

[Daffy drives; Porky hangs on for dear life.]

Porky: O-kay, I g-g-g-g-got a daughter…!

Daffy: Don't worry, I know these roads.

Porky: Th-th-th-th-th-this is not a road! A road has asphalt and t-t-two lanes! This is d-d-dirt on a cliff!

Daffy: You scared?

Porky: I'm n-n-n-n-not s-scared; I'm r-r-rationa-r-rationa-rightly concerned.

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

Prisoners in Swakopmund, like those in the other camps across the colony, were given utterly inadequate food rations. In von Trotha's initial orders of 16 January he had specifically instructed military commanders in charge of camps to keep rationa to an absolute minimum. The Portionsliste, the army's ration list, placed concentration-camp prisoners just above mules and horses in order of priorities. The official camp ration was 500 grams of rice or flour per day, calculated on the presumption that prisoners of war were male. Women and children - who made up the vast majority of the camp's population - were often given half rations. As neither rice nor flour was known to the Herero, they had no knowledge of how to cook it. In many cases, prisoners were not even provided with pots or pans with which to prepare their food. The prisoners ate these unfamiliar rations raw unaware that uncooked they causes diarrhoea. As early as 1 March 1905, in a letter to the Mission Headquarters in Wupperthal, Missionary Vedder complained that the 'people suffer their faily meal of rice, which due to the lack of pots is very difficult to prepare... hundreds are breaking down due to the lack if nutrition and are dying'.

- The Kaiser's Holocaust

[beforus-for-real-justice]

hit post limit sorry. but yeah that one - mod komaeda

‹| I used to |ove that game! |› ‹| I had a who|e "detectIve" phase a few sweeps back. |› ‹| Loved to fIgure out the mystery and he|p free everyone from b|ame or whatever the sItuatIon was wIth just words and ratIona| thInkIng! |›

[angeldcgs]

"i never said it was! you're deliberately misunderstanding me, like you always do...it's not an invasion of your privacy to write a song about something that happened to me. it's from my perspective, because that's the only perspective i know! what would be the point of censoring myself, when the whole goal was to get that shit off my chest? you don't get my artistic process— that's fine! no one's asking you to! but don't make it a fucking personal attack, because i assure you, i was genuinely not thinking about your feelings at all when i wrote that ep." it hadn't been created out of spite, is what they meant, but it was difficult not to inject a little venom into their words when slater had such a knack for getting them so riled up. toni was far from cool and composed— they felt everything so deeply, and then they bottled it up it, but for once they were allowing themselves to let it out. "who am i to stand in the way of a gal looking to make a quick buck? what they do when they leave is none of my business." it was strange sometimes, realizing that some girls were only attracted to them because of their supposed "fame". they'd never considered themselves famous by any stretch of the imagination, so at first they'd figured everyone that came onto them after their shows had truly connected with their music, and therefor with toni as a person, but it didn't take long to realize that their interest revolved heavily around how many instagram followers they'd amassed since the release of their ep. sure, it didn't feel great to know that it wasn't them the girls were interested in, but their notoriety, but they'd take the false companionship over loneliness any day. "the tik tok charts, maybe..." everything they were saying now was with the intention of digging into slater, as god knows they'd never given a fuck about charts or sales. really, toni had been happy for them when they'd first seen their first single pop up on their twitter feed, feeling a hint of the tenderness that'd strengthened between them over their many years of friendship. good for her. as hurt as toni was, as pissed as they'd been at slater in the height of their fallout, love wasn't something that could sour that easily. with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, they ran a hand through their shaggy mane, pushing sandy brown locks up off their forehead in the process. "look... i know you think you're, like, god's gift to music, and the greatest rockstar the world has ever seen, or whatever, but i am not operating under that same delusion. i really don't think people care about me, or my life, or my past as much as you seem to think they do. maybe they care about yours, but i'm just... some dude with a keyboard. i can assure you, journalists aren't clamoring to get the shocking exposé on my pathetic high school situationship. i write the music, i release the music, i perform the music, and my job is done. you can tell tmz whatever the fuck you want, once again, that's none of my business." their face felt hot from the overwhelming frustration, blurting out, "it doesn't! it doesn't fucking matter!" before slater could even finish their sarcastic query. this is exactly why they'd never reached out after all these years. plenty of time had passed, but everything that had happened between them was still too fresh, and toni still couldn't put aside their bitterness and resentment long enough to have one calm conversation. finally, their fiery frustration faded to pure incredulity, taken aback by how slater framed that fateful night that had ended their relationship, a mirthless chuckle pushing its way past their lips like a short bark. "wow... wow, that's— wow." all they could do for a moment was laugh, shaking their head as they tried to compose their rapidly firing thoughts into a concise statement. "you are such a sad person. it must be so lonely living in this alternate reality you've constructed in which everyone around you is fucking insane, and you're the only rational human being."

"OH, FUCK OFF, TONI . it's not dumb to desire privacy even as an artist . that in itself does not take away from the authenticity of fucking art because, surprisingly, something called fucking nuance exists . two things can exist at once and not everyone is as deeply fucking attention seeking as you ." slater was never good with anger . they knew it . were deeply aware of it in fact . the problem was that almost whatever slater felt seemed to find away to convert itself into anger . loneliness . hurt . heartbreak . getting pissed was so much easier than sitting around and crying about shit . or at least slater assumes . she's never really had much of an option . her brows raise as toni continues, and this time her scoff is biting as she smiles and nods, "wow . can't believe in such good fucking company in the 'i fucked toni gallow club' . me and a handful of rabid fucking fans . you better watch that they don't wander off after, toni ." slater's brow raises dryly . "you might just find a lock of your hair on ebay or some shit ." petty wasn't usually slater's style . she went for the throat . was usually down to stab someone in the face rather than the back . and yet after not talking to toni for all this time, slater couldn't say that was exactly what this is . everything was kind of below the belt . but how were they ever going to stop when toni is doing the same thing ? the next jab makes slater's eyes flicker with anger, a bruise to their pride that their teeth clench at . their eyes narrow . "oh, fucking bite me, toni . you know my shit fucking charts ." music was always slater's thing . it had always been slater's thing . it was their passion . basically the only fucking thing they were good at . the only thing they had ever wanted to do . and toni just stumbled into it like a baby calf and somehow landed on her feet . despite their own success, despite loving toni once, or now, or who the fuck knows — slater can't deny how infuriating that is . for someone to stumble into your dream like it's an accident and thrive . no matter how many number ones slater gets the fact will always be that toni got one first . somehow slater thinks that it will always feel like it was just to spite her . "mm . right, of course ." slater is nodding in feigned understanding, head tilting as she says, "because within our current career field people are just known for being respectful and not invasive and not using pain or fuck ups for cheap headlines . i'm totally blowing this shit out of proportion ! i should schedule an interview with tmz tomorrow, they seem fucking nice !" slater replies sarcastically, before throwing their hands up and, "but you know what, whatever . what the fuck does it matter, anyways ?" slater is beginning to feel like they care too much . worse, they're beginning to feel like they're showing it . detachment is a conscious thing, one toni has already obviously achieved . slater wasn't going to be the one left in the dust . the one left still caring . because that would be pathetic . "oh, is that so ?" slater's brow arch high . "you think everyone is out here just trying to run away with someone after the high of sex ? cause honestly toni that is not a universal impulse, even with the fucking u-haul community ."

[therisingsun777]

Book One; Chapter Six: Logic V Conformity

I stood in a room with thirty men, all seated at a round table with a hollow middle. I had been led into the middle of the round table, and was now standing at the judgement of all thirty men. Upon my neck, sat the pendant I had found last night, and all of the men were whispering in hushed tones.

For my part, I tried my best to calm the steady beating in my chest, that was slowly tempting itself to get louder. Almost all of the men in the room were staring at me, and it was hard to control the temptation to shoot out of the room. I breathed, looking down at the pendant that I had been given, studying the eye full of color. All I needed to do was not look into their eyes, and soon enough, a decision would be made.

Irashi had told me that there was no need to be afraid, that it was only a decision of council. Yet, with so many here, surrounding and staring towards me, I simply could not ignore the feeling that one of the men within here, would stand up, and claim that I was a fake, and that my dream had a been a lie, based off of some prior knowledge that I had no access to.

That, did not happen, however. What happened instead, was that some of the men stood up, and lifted their hands towards the sky, twirling into a turn, and then aiming their hands towards me.

Air swished around my body virulently. I got picked up in the great swarm of air, that slowly twisted into a tornado beneath my feet. To my utter surprise, I was lifted high into the sky by the tribe of airbenders, all who began to chant.

“The avatar has returned!” They said, cries so strangely filled with joy and wonder.

I looked down in a marvel, as my feet lifted into the sky. I made it halfway up to the ceiling, before I was carefully descended back down by the men.

When I fell back to the ground, the men were smiling towards me.

“We are happy to welcome you, young avatar,” He said kindly, “Now...As the Avatar, you have a choice as to who you shall learn under. It can be any in this room, or perhaps any of the masters outside of the room. Do you have one in mind?”

I almost said Irashi, but, that wouldn’t have been right. He might’ve been the airmaster, but from the looks of it, he had no intentions of taking in an apprentice, and I didn’t want to intrude upon his work. So instead, I looked around the room, and tried to find a face that I could relate with. Someone who looked at least mildly like the person I would want to learn under.

The doors to the chamber burst open, and a man walked in. Faces around the room scowled as he walked through with a lean ease. He looked towards me with cold, brown eyes, as he sat in a chair to my right.

“You are late.” One of the men said.

“Yes, you should presume I would’ve noticed that myself. There is no need to point it out.” The man said.

The one who had spoken began to speak out. I, however, spoke above him.

“Are you a scholar of sorts?” I asked, noticing a scroll in his hands, it seemed old, almost decadent and falling apart.

“Hardly. I scavenge through old texts and readings to find airbending techniques that I believe useful to me. I focus less on the art, and more on the practicality.”

That was intriguing. It was obviously a sales pitch of sorts, which meant that even as he answered, he was thinking of a way to sound more appealing to a young member.

“Now, young avatar, I do not think you shou-”

But the man cut him off, “Are you attempting to tell him that he should not choose me as his master? Am I not equal to everyone else in this room?” His voice was cold, calculative, careful.

I looked towards the others in the room. There was something about him that these other benders did not like. But what exactly was it? The phrase that he had just said, before the interjecture of the one man’s talking, was about using bending for practical usages. Which meant….Which meant the others took a more spiritual path to it. 

When standing in front of them, I had talked about my walk into the spirit realm, however, I had left out the part of it being a parallel universe to ours, purely out of the suspicion that they would not take it well. This new man, however, the one who had just barged into the realm, seemed like the only one who might believe me. That...That almost made it entirely obvious.

“What is your name?” I asked him.

“Arashi.” The man answered.

“Irashi?” I replied, confused.

“No, that is my brother. I am Arashi, with an ‘A’ to begin the name.” I blinked. That was, surprising. So the brother of the airmaster was an elder, and hated by all of the elders in the room. Within itself, that was a rather interesting dynamic. To have one brother hated, and to have the other be a leader of the tribe itself was...That was a pattern, wasn’t it? It was a pattern, I realized. It was an almost cliche pattern from some stories, where one brother would play the role of the hero, and the other would play the role of the villain. But, in this case, it was more along the lines that one brother would play the role of the tribes, and the other wouldn’t.

“Well, what is your decision young airbender?” The kindly man at the front asked.

I smiled. They were expecting me not to choose the man who seemed rather apt to teach me the best. All of the others that I could’ve chosen, would’ve decided to take a more spiritual approach, which quite simply was not of interest to me. Their religion could wait until I wanted to read philosophy books.

“Arashi.” I said, with a small, almost threatening smile, “I think I’ll choose him.”

Almost immediately, there was a small murmur moving around the room. The men whispered towards one another, and the person who had been about to tell me not to go with him, looked rather dismayed. However, after that dismay, came a face to show he was thinking.

“Arashi…” The man said, in an almost growling voice, “Do you promise to teach this boy our customs, instead of spouting the nonse-” “I promise no such things.” Arashi said with a cold calm, “And you can not overturn the boy’s decision, as it is his right to choose who will be his teacher.” His eyes were glaring, as he looked towards the old man, “Now, if you would excuse me, my apprentice here has much that he needs to catch up on.”

I nodded, and then, after a moment of thought, executed a semi formal bow, before leaving with the man. He stopped as we left through the entrance, and breathed in a small sigh, almost as if to himself.

“Those men would do best to learn that their customs are outdated. They will not help if a war breaks out, and they will most certainly only end up in yet another great massacre if they keep preaching pacifism as the only eligible answer.” The man then turned towards me, “Now, would you rather begin learning right away, or after a short break? I myself would love to have a stew after listening to the idiocy spouted by those men.” I hadn’t thought myself to hate them as much, but...When they had tried to make my own decision for me, it had set me off to some extent. I decided, that I would rather have something to eat. I looked towards the man, and told him as such. He smiled, and we walked towards a small restaurant on a corner.

The inside was a dull green, with slight reflections against certain parts of the room. There was a man, and only around three tables, one of which was occupied.

“I will have the house meal. My friend here will have the same.” He said.

“Well I mean, what else do they have?” “Oh, only minor variations of the same. This place is dedicated to making the same meal.”

“Why?”

“For people such as myself, who would rather have one thing to eat, so that they might get lost in their thoughts.”

“Huh…” I drawled, walking with him to a small table.

The man, as we sat, got straight into business, “Am I to assume that you know barely anything of your own element?” He asked.

“Um...I know some things. I can, apparently, create an incomplete version of Master Aang’s invented technique.”

“Ah, the Air ball. I believe it has an official name, but I cannot place it. And what does that incomplete version look like?” “Oh, it’s a disk. It requires a lot of energy to hold. A little bit less if I’m moving, but it still drains me rather quickly.” “A disk? So you are holding all of your weight upon a circular platform?” “Yeah, Irashi already pointed that out to me.” The man chuckled, “Have you ever thought of attack implementation with that ability?”

“Attack implementation?”

Arashi waved a hand, “We will get into that later. For now, let me point out the fundamentals of air for you. The first, as is with every element, is control. Every small bit of control counts, this includes your ability to mitigate air levels within one part of the technique you are preforming. You want the energy output of the entire foundation to be exactly the same, or else your technique could backfire, and perhaps harm people that you do not intend it to harm. The second…” He paused, as our food was placed in front of us, and then continued, “The second, is mastery. You do not use a complicated technique unless you are sure you have mastered it, this includes upon yourself. The pure basics, like moving a rock into the air, and throwing it, to not require such in-depth mastery. However, if you were to say, make a metal glove, and try to use it to traverse the environment, without in-depth mastery of the air and complications that might occur, you could either harm yourself or die. The only exception to this rule, of course, is if you are in a situation where such a thing might occur either way.” He stopped for a moment, as we ate our food. When he still didn’t continue for a moment after, I spoke up.

“Are there any others?”

“Yes,” He replied, “Although this third one, is of my own personal belief, and should not reflect upon you, if you yourself don’t believe it.” “What is it?”

“If you are to ever attack an opponent, you should attack not to harm, but to kill.”