#typing this up is my pushing a boulder up a hill honestly
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corancoranthemagicalman · 2 years ago
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watching a playthrough for Great Ace Attorney for the first time (so no spoilers please!) and getting through Case 2 was literally such an emotional burden. I’m just getting into Case 3 right now and I’m still not over it. How did you guys HANDLE this???
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crowreys-wormstache · 2 years ago
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I don't know who needs to hear this but I know there was a point in my life when I really needed to hear it so here you go.
Disabled does not mean not healthy
It seems so obvious and yet being raised by abled people (who honestly tried hard but still fucked up along the way), it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize this. If you're disabled and doing sports as a form of PT the goal is not to be able to do what ableds are, it's not even to reach your personal best. The primary goal is to help your body function and everything else is cherries on top.
If you can't outrun your abled buddy, if you can't climb the whole boulder route and they can or if you need a break after swimming a single pool length that does not mean you're not fit/healthy/in shape. That just means your limits are different. And guess what? That's the case among ableds too. They're not all super athletic, they don't even all have the potential to be athletic.
Disabled does not mean not healthy
When I was at my most active, I'd swim 5 times a week, eat a balanced meal for every meal and eat a solid amount of fruits and veggies. My quads were rock hard. Point is I was quite fit. And you know what? The 10-minute walk up the (not even a very steep) hill from my parents' house to reach the bus stop still had me winded and sweating every time, despite the fact that I took this path daily for literal years.
There is limits to what your body can do, how good it can get at stuff. Those limits might be narrower and/or harder to push if you're disabled, but you know what? Just because some type of movement/sports is hard for you does not mean you're not healthy.
Disabled does not mean not healthy
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thestruggleisrealqueen · 2 years ago
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Everyone's heard the phrase, "the struggle is real"? Here lately I feel like the struggle Queen. So just call me, Queen Sisyphus. You may not have heard about Sisyphus before, well my friends, neither had I, until recently. And I've never heard or read a story that was more relatable to my life until I heard this..... Sisyphus was the founder and king of Ephrya, he was a very cunning man, known for his cleverness & trickery. He was said to have been described by Homer as, "the most cunning of men". Sisyphus wound up cheating death twice, and well, frankly, that pissed Zeus off. So, Zeus, felt so inclined to sentence him to a punishment for an eternity in Hades. And what was his punishment for eternity, you my ask? Well my fellow strugglers, for all of eternity, Sisyphus was sentenced to roll a boulder uphill until he was almost to the top, and the boulder would roll back down. And he was to roll it back up that hill, until it got almost to the top, and it would roll back down. When I heard this tale, I thought I was listening to a story of my life. Granted I've never founded a town, nor have I ever been king or queen of anything. But, my fellow strugglers, I have definitely pushed many boulders uphill just for them to roll over my toes going back down. 🪨 🏔️ 😬 😩 🦶 But, I know none of you strugglers out there are worried about my ugly little toes. But, struggler, you might be interested in knowing that even though that Boulder is currently kicking my ass right now, I plan on coming out stronger and vibing like no one's bizznass. (Any tips, tricks, and/or advice from any of you out there reading this, would be very appreciative.) I just recently came back to this decision, I was planning on it going the other way with this. But, I had a talk with someone and they got me to thinking and I changed my mind, again. And I'm tired of starting over, and I'm tired of depending on people and asking for help, because, honestly, no one really seems to want to help anyone just because it's a nice thing to do, they only seem to to help when it benefits their life in some way. And most of all, I'm tired of my two beautiful girls watching me fail and struggle almost on the daily. This affects every aspect of my life and that in turn affects the people that I love. And if I really love someone, do I really want to affect their life in any negative kind of way? Well, friend, my answer is, absolutely fucking not! It took me a minute, but it's all starting to come back to me now. I'm not the type to go down without a fight! I started to get so absorbed and lost in all the negativity and I almost started to believe I wasn't worth another fight. But, that's not how granny and papaw raised me to be! So, fellow struggler? Are you going to give in to the struggle, like I was going to? Or, are you going to take my hand, and let me help you up and we'll face the struggle together? Because struggling is hard enough, we don't want to have to face it alone. I don't have to face it alone. I had to get over myself and my pride and reach out to someone, anyone. Everyone. Can I get you to join me and help me to kick this struggles ass? ✊ 👊 ✌️ It may be hard, but nothing that's worth something, is gonna be easy! Let's stay strong!
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mind-racket · 6 years ago
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Where Do I Begin?
So here we are...New Year’s Eve 2018. Time for resolutions and drinks and cheese and such.
I’m just gonna be up front and say I don’t have much for 2018. Frankly, even though there was not really one standout sucky thing about it that comes to mind right off, collectively, I hold it in pretty low regards.
It had its moments. Even a sucky year has its moments. I still have a job, Becky’s business continued to do well, and most of my friends and loved ones are still with us. We have a roof over our heads, we have food to eat, and the cats seem as happy as cats can be.
Still...somewhere along the way...the wheels sort of came off, and I’m not even sure I was aware of it as it was happening. I don’t want to overstate it...it was not a careening car crash headlong into a chestnut tree. It was more of a continuous attempt to regain control on an icy bridge.
As has been the case for most of my life, my struggle with weight was probably the dominant factor. I knew as the year started that I had let things get a bit out of control, but it seemed that every attempt to get control of it just led to more trouble.
Since getting diagnosed with high blood pressure a few years ago, I’ve been on a schedule with my doctor to go see him once a year for a checkup. See where the numbers are and all that. I knew it was coming this summer, and I knew I needed to get my shit together before going to see him. I really like him, and for some reason, I find myself wanting to impress him with my progress. Still, with that as a driving force to do better, I struggled to change my bad habits.
There were periods where I felt like maybe I was on track again, but it didn’t take long before I got off track and erased any progress I’d made. Of course, none of this was supported by any real numbers. I refused to step on the scales until I felt like I’d made some progress, which meant that by the time I went for my visit, I had ZERO idea what to expect on the scales.
When I saw the actual number, it took me a second to realize just what I’d seen. My brain did not process it right away, and when it did, all I could say was....well...I wasn’t expecting that. My blood pressure reading was also a little elevated above where it had been staying pretty consistently. As I sat waiting for him to come in, I could almost physically feel myself sinking into a bad place.
When he sat down and we started talking, I just burst into tears right there. I literally could not control it. Shame...sadness...guilt...it all rolled itself up into a hideous little storm inside me and came sweeping across me like a spring storm in Kansas. To his credit, he was SO supportive and comforting. He acknowledged the struggle, said it will probably ALWAYS be that way, and told me to just regroup and get going again. He also asked me to check in by phone in about a month and let him know how things were going.
I didn’t.
30 days later, I was not much less of a mess than I’d been for the previous 200 or so. And, as I sit here typing this on December 31, I can’t honestly say that I’ve done much of anything to alter it since that visit. I don’t know that things have gotten worse, but they certainly haven’t gotten any better.
That ends now.
Not because it is New Year’s Eve (well...not ONLY because it is New Year’s Eve) but because it is time to get my shit together. I have actually been blessed with relatively good health despite the way I’ve treated my body for 47 years. It is time I return the favor to this vessel that has carried my bones and innards around all this time and treat it with the respect and care it deserves before it completely rebels and tells me to go fuck myself.
As expected, these types of struggles with the physical self go hand in hand with a pretty mighty mental struggle. Being preoccupied with my weight and then being even more disgusted with my continued lack of action to correct that preoccupation made for pretty lousy odds at having a clear and focused mind.
Add to that the continued worry about job security, the never-ending question in my head about “what I wanna be when I grow up”, the recurring feeling that I’m falling short on my goals, the disappointment with myself for that failing, and before you know it, the hole is dug.
I won’t call it depression...more of a lingering sadness maybe? Whatever it is, it isn’t as easy to shake off as I’d like it to be. It sort of feeds on itself, and before you know it, it is expressing itself through what you wear, how you take care of yourself, how you control your emotions, where your breaking point is...it just seems to consume ever damn thang.
By the end of July, my efforts to write something here every day had ended with a promise to figure out a new approach with my “journaling”. That figuring never happened, and that was the last thing I had written this year before today.
Over the past few weeks, however, I have been working on bringing about some changes. A couple of months ago, I made some changes at work (helped greatly by the guy that took over as my new boss last year) that made me feel a little better about my job...changes that made me feel like it was more than just fixing people’s shit. I mean...it is still mostly just fixing people’s shit...but now it feels...different.
I also started working on getting back in to taking pictures. I picked up a new vintage lens for my camera and started exploring what exactly it is I want to do with my version of photography going forward.
I’ve never really stopped surrounding myself with music. Happy, sad, whatever...music is ALWAYS a part of my life. I need it, always. As I sit here today, there’s a fantastic record spinning beside me. It isn’t a NEW record (well, it is for me...Beck got it for me for Christmas), but it is a record I’ve wanted to write about and share with everyone.
As the year started, I felt like I was making progress towards creating my space to share things like that with everyone, but it seems like as the reality started to grow that I might actually make it happen, the urge to push away from it grew even faster. It wasn’t something I fostered. I didn’t even realize the pushing away was taking place. But it was. It always has.
It is time, too, for that to end.
As a child, I was successful in the classroom. It all just sort of made sense and clicked. With that came the good grades, and with that came the expectations to continue making those grades. I sort of hit a wall my first year of high school and my first real experience at struggling with a subject. Being that it hadn’t really happened before...that feeling of falling short...and I did not exactly handle it well. It was uncomfortable, and I struggled to process it.
I honestly think that I may have been dealing with some form of attention deficit, be it physical or self-made. Either way, it was a doozy. I can remember trying to read books, getting to the bottom of the page, and having to re-read it because my mind had wandered off onto some other topic. I had no idea why it was happening and even less of an idea on how to fix it, so that just added to the mess.
College started in a very similar way. I began at one school, transferred to another, and switched through several majors along the way because I had never really ever answered the question...what do I wanna be when I grow up?
There were plenty of things I LIKED doing, but I didn’t really feel passionate about ANY of them. I was good at several things, but I wasn’t really GREAT at any particular one of them.
I only add these reflections now because I’m working on figuring out just why I continue to roll boulders right to the top of the hill but struggle with pushing them on across the peak. What I’ve sort of settled on (which is no big shocker) is a fear of failure. An INTENSE fear of failure.
The irony of it is that each time I do this, it IS a failure, but it is often a failure that only I have to know about. I typically toil with these things on my own, only asking for opinions and guidance from others every now and then, but I never really ask for buy in from anyone, so there’s nothing built up for them to watch fall apart.
These aren’t concepts that are completely new to me. I’ve known elements of this all before. I’ve thought about one part or another independently, but I don’t think I’ve ever really tried to deep-dive into it or open the doors up to others so that they can see just what a mess I’ve made in here.
You’re welcome. =)
The unfortunate side effect of trying to keep all of this shit from spilling out into my every day life is that I scatter it all around for my wife to navigate through. And while she deals with it all like a champ and offers the perfect advice every single time, she shouldn’t have to deal with my shit every time I let one of those boulders roll back down the hill.
Another fun side effect of all of this is that I tend to wall myself off socially. Instead of visiting with friends and talking to some of the very people who could probably help me sort some of this shit out and help me grow beyond it, when I do see them, I try to always leave them with a perfect snapshot of me just in case I decide to retreat from society for 2 months...a decision which I inevitably will make.
I don’t know right now how much of this I will share, or who I will choose to share it with. My feeling is that I should open it up to a select group of people I feel closest to, not to free me from the guilt of not living up to my expectations of what it means to be a good friend or to make anyone feel sorry for me, but to shine a light on this failure so that I don’t just tuck it away with everything else and never allow anyone else to hold me accountable for it.
I’ll have to think a little on just how open I want to be.
If you’ve made it this far, well...bless your heart. And no, I’m not fixing to jump off a bridge or drive off in the middle of the night in search of myself. I’m just working some things out and inviting you along for the journey.
Again, you’re welcome. =)
And always hanging like the fucking cloud of Mordor over each and every day?
Trump.
Enough said.
So what about 2019? I’ve said it before, and have managed at various times to follow through on it, but this is going to be a year of change. Physically, mentally, socially...changes are coming.
This is going to be a year of doing more of the things I enjoy, and managing those that I dread.
This is going to be a year of looking forward, not dwelling on what is behind.
This is going to be a year of love...of laughter...of light.
I am not positive the road will rise to meet me or the wind will always be at my back, but I will keep turning towards the sun, hoping that it shines warm upon my face.
If that doesn’t work, I’ll probably just drink.
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konnl · 5 years ago
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Scrappers Part IV
The Harvesters are closing in. The beast is about to break free. Angie and Ruggie can’t outrun them. Their only hope is to venture into The Lost, the remains of civilization before the war, and before the collapse of the planet.
Scrappers Part IV continues the sci-fi horror universe that is being developed through short stories. Enjoy the story in written word, audio, artwork and soundscape.
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Scrappers Part IV
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Clash
This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t trained for this. Neither was Ruggy. He didn’t care though, the hothead wanted to bring the fight to the Harvesters. Those damn gene-freaks were marching towards us. Chances are they knew our location way before we knew theirs. That’s what they did. They were faster, more advanced, and less compassionate.
THWUMP! came pounding from our cruiser as the whole vehicle wobbled. The beast was shredding through the side door. It’d be out in no time. Ruggy’s crazy plan of taking the fight to the Harvesters was truthfully the best we had to work with. We couldn’t outrun them. We couldn’t hide from them. The only advantage we had was that abomination that remained in our cruiser.
ANGIE, THIS WAY, came Ruggy’s message through the interface of my goggles.
I stayed close to my partner, hiding behind a boulder. Our night vision from the goggles let us see clearly in shadowed rocks. It shielded us on both sides as the cruiser door peeled open from razor-sharp claws. The beast sprung out into The Lost and charged towards us on all fours like some enraged great ape.
The Harvesters held their electro-spears, humming with power. Their gunmetal chrome suits shined against the light of their weapons. High-frequency clicking noises came from their being. There were the harvesters I was used to. That Harvester at the crash site – a rarity. They were never vulnerable, only killers.
GET READY TO FIRE AT THE HARVESTERS, Ruggy typed. THAT BEAST IS CLOSING IN FASTER.
I watched the Harvesters as Ruggy watched the beast. We had each other’s backs. Scrappers had to. No one else would help us. We were on our own. Sweat poured down my face, watching the four Harvesters march up the hill. The clicking began to ring in my hear. They were too close. There was nowhere for us to turn either. We were backed into a corner. The only way out was to dash at the opportune moment. This plan better work.
The beast bellowed, leaping into the air, claws extended outward. The Harvesters were a good two dozen paces away from us. They raised their spears in defensive stances, watching the beast. It soared down towards the group.
One Harvester typed something into its wrist, causing the suite to open several holes around its wrist and up the forearm. Pitch black tentacles wiggled out of the holes and towards the beast. They reached the creature before it hit the ground, colliding in midair. The beast hacked at the tentacles, slicing some of them apart. A couple of them snagged its limbs. Another grabbed the neck, immobilizing the beast in the air.
LET’S GO! Ruggy typed, sprinting from the hideout.
New Plan
That was new. No time to ponder. I joined Ruggy, rushing from the spot back up to the cruiser. A quick glance back – the Harvesters were stabbing the beast with their electro-spears. Each penetration sent a charge pulsating through the creature’s body. It groaned in agony and fell limp. The clicking sound increased in speed.
SHIT, I typed out. I THINK THEY’RE ONTO US.
Ruggy didn’t reply. We only ran. Now, I couldn’t look back. I didn’t want to lose track of Ruggy or stare at those things. Thumping picked up behind us as the clicking continued. They couldn’t be far behind. We could only run deeper into The Lost.
We ducked underneath a metal bar to the other side. I followed every jump, turn, and duck he made. Every obstacle he avoided. Our best bet was to use the terrain and try to lose these bastards. We skidded on a decline until we entered a cavern. Or maybe it was a building. It was man-made at one point in time based on the concrete.
We hurried through the hallway. Large rocks had fallen over, causing the ceiling to cave in. The interior of the cavern was completely covered. The small entrance would give the Harvesters a hell of a time getting in.
Ruggy made a sharp turn left. The clicking sound dissipated. The cavern evolved into an old building the deeper we went.  Parts of the floor were destroyed, showing deeper levels below. We carefully avoided falling, stepping around into the next room.
WAIT, Ruggy typed, holding out his hand. There was a window in the next room.
WE SHOULD GO BACK, I SAW ANOTHER WAY, I typed out.
GO.
I took the lead, guiding us back to a split in the hallway. Each step we made kicked up dust, disrupting our view. I tried not to breathe in too intensely. The air was stale, particles fell softly to the ground. We probably kicked those up as we jogged in. I did my best not to cough. We couldn’t make any sound for the Harvesters couldn’t be far behind.
Ruggy and I followed an incline. Small holes throughout the building let light in.
WE DON’T WANT TO GO UP, Ruggy typed. WINDOWS.
WHAT THEN? I asked.
WE SHOULD GO DOWN. Ruggy typed.
THAT’S THE BUILDING’S FOUNDATION. WE’D BE TRAPPED.
MAYBE. MAYBE NOT. THERE ARE TUNNELS ALL OVER THE LOST.
A loud crash came from behind us. Then the kicking of rocks. Clicking sounds. The Harvesters.
WE DON’T HAVE A CHOICE. I typed.
NEXT DROP WE’RE TAKING.
There was no time to argue. We had to keep moving. Footsteps picked up behind us. Distant, but growing louder. I hopped over metal wires, rocks, and other rubble. We passed a corridor to a well-preserved hallway. Never had I run this fast before. Our steps reverbed. The air was thick, making me lightheaded. I couldn’t stop. There were no breaks. The light-holes were less frequent. We were making progress.
Once the Same
Crashes erupted from behind. The corridor crumbled as a herculean, gunmetal, being charged towards us. The Harvester kept its head low to avoid the ceiling as it stormed forward.
SPLIT, Ruggy typed as he dashed into a side room. I GOT LEFT.
I took the next right turn I could, leading straight to a large pile of rubble blocking the path.
“No, no, no,” I whined. I spun around a couple of times. The ceiling had no gaps to hop up to. The clicking and footsteps amplified. The rubble in front had a small opening below. I could make it. I had to.
I chucked my gun underneath, letting it skid to the other side. My turn. I took a step back and dashed to the gap, falling onto my side and sliding on the dirty tiles. I stopped about halfway through and pushed with my legs for the remainder of the way.
A large gunmetal hand slammed down as I lifted my foot, dodging it. I got to my feet, snagging my rifle as a hand reached through the gap, attempting to grab the gun. The hand slid back. Through the smaller gaps in the rubble, I watched the Harvester stand upright, slightly hunching, in its full seamless suit. Small circuitry in a liquid substance was just below a translucent layer of the suit, pulsating. The head stared at me through one of the higher openings. There were no eyes. No breathing holes. Only the shiny seamless suit with its complex outer membrane.
I twitched my eye, shutting off the night vision of the goggles to get a naked look at what humanity had become. The moment held. The Harvester stared at me in the poorly lit hall. The clicking stopped.
“Why?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure why I said it. It was kind of a stupid thing to say. This was a Harvester. A gene freak of another world. They left us to die on this rotting planet. They decided that they were better than us and would let Humanity rot.
Maybe Not
The Harvester’s head tilted, breathing calmly. It punched the rubble, causing dust to fall. The sound startled me, but I remained still. If I ever made it out of this, it would be one hell of a story to tell back at base. Now, I was even closer to a Harvester than at the crash site – all on the same scrapping mission. The key was I had to get out of here to brag about it.
A humming came from the suit. Small holes appeared on the being’s face.
“No,” I mumbled, taking a step back.
Black tentacles wiggled their way out of the holes, heading for me. Great. I roared, raising my rifle and fired at the approaching appendages, stepping backward. The gun clacked. Shells hit the ground. Bullets pinged off the Harvester’s face. It didn’t flinch. The tentacles approached. I directed my aim. Some bullets shredded through the black things, causing them to fall to the ground.
They didn’t stop. Their torn halves wiggled forward. This was pointless. It was time to run. I lowered my rifle and spun around, sprinting down the hall. The Harvester slammed its fist against the rubble several times, causing pieces to fly out. High-pitched clicking erupted like a sputtering engine.
RUGGY, WHERE ARE YOU? I typed.
I took a left turn in a T intersection and hurried downwards. All light vanished. The Harvester’s sounds faded the deeper I went. Chances were the large being couldn’t make its way through the rubble. A streak of luck. I could only pray – to anything listening – that was the end of it. I navigated through my goggle’s interface to turn on night vision.
ANGIE, came Ruggy’s text. WHERE ARE YOU? DON’T SHARE YOUR LOCATION, JUST TELL ME.
I KNOW THAT. I’M NOT A ROOKIE, I typed back. I’M FINE. I THINK. WHAT ABOUT YOU?
I GOT AWAY. I HEARD IT GO AFTER YOU. THEN THE FIRES. WHAT HAPPENED?
IT TRIED TO GET ME, BUT I SNUCK THROUGH SOME DEBRE. THE FATASS COULDN’T FIT.
YOU LUCKY GAL, Ruggy typed.
NO SHIT. WHAT’S THE PLAN? YOU IN A SAFE SPOT?
THERE’S NO WINDOWS HERE. I WENT DEEPER, BELOW GROUND. IT’S COLD, BUT SILENT.
GOOD, I typed. A wave of relief went over me as I came to a small turn off. Maybe it was a closet at some point in time. A good hideout as any.
YOU? Ruggy typed.
IT’S DARK, I HONESTLY DON’T KNOW. I THINK I DITCHED IT THOUGH, I typed, sliding down to the ground.
ALRIGHT. WE’LL WAIT IT OUT. KEEP STATUS UPDATES. ANYTHING WEIRD YOU SHARE, ALRIGHT?
CONFIRMED, I replied.
WE GOT THIS, KID :-), Ruggy typed.
I lowered my weapon with a sigh. We were both safe. Separated, but we’d get out of here. Harvesters have been known to give up on a hunt. They had better things to do with their time than wait around for a couple of humans. There were bigger hunts.
One Last Attempt
A light touch on my calf caused me to jump. I spun to face the wall. Rifle pointed. Nothing. The sensation moved upward, pricking. It caused me to drop my rifle in a spaz reaction. I twisted my leg to look down. There, a black remnant of the tentacle wiggled its way up to me.
I squealed, covering my mouth as I did. Noise wasn’t my friend. Several deep breaths calmed me down while I watched the thing crawl up my leg. There, on the ground, was a sharp rock. That’d do. I leaned down gradually, keeping my eye on the wiggler.
My hand reached for the rock, as I carefully avoided sudden movement. I snagged the sharp stone and lifted it to the wiggler, ready to sideswipe it. One deep breath in, I swung. The rock slapped the black flesh, knocking it off my leg. It fell onto the floor and squirmed.
I landed on my knees as I guided the rock onto the tentacle, crushing it. That wasn’t enough for me. I raised the rock and continued to smash the wiggler until it was a flat disk. A part of it rose from the mess.
“Die!” I said through my teeth, slamming the rock down several more times, ending with a twist. I paused, waiting for it to make another move. It didn’t. I won. Finally, the chaos was over. Now Ruggy and I waited this out. We’d get out of here.
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gplewis · 6 years ago
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firing up the kiln of identity
well, start being yourself pulverize the barrier perception is a thing to attack who can I be to other people? is it all about how I show up in their minds? is being loved even enough? I understand love and being loved I’m good at the game I’m just not in it time to be an ego freak and go as crazy as you can as many lines for as long as you can even if you have to delete (but it’s never delete, it’s always ignore…unless you are shaping something like a book, then you want to get it down to its component parts, quintessences, essentials, gems. Is reading me exhausting? I don’t know, I haven’t done enough market research; I haven’t gotten enough feedback from enough people. I’ve been toiling on this side of the screen but my creations haven’t really lived in flesh in the world of other people—perhaps I’m terrified to live in the present and see how much it’s changed from the past—which would show me how wrong I was about the past during the moments my now-memories formed. I was so unpresent, so young, so sweet, so surprised and awed. Now I’m just another shitty old man pushing the boulder of his brand and his house up the hill. Being a person is humiliating. Being a poet is humiliating, but we have each other, and damn it, we ought to be paid by the non-poets. I wonder if this label hurts me/us more than it helps. Do people know what a poet is? Another good title for a thing: “What Is a Poet?” the other from this morning (typewriter) being “How To Look At Someone’s Online Stuff,” or maybe I should call it ART. Isn’t that the word that comes back again and again? And every time I type, I connect myself further with the image of Basquiat, et al. The greats. Of course they were here before me, man facing writing utensil, bleeding into a day where he could busy himself with work, chores, finances, politics…yet all I wanna do is feed the lake of literature then swim in it—and that will be my little life, not hurting anyone, just saying how it is out there—I’m an observer, I’ve been in the arena, now I don’t need to be there because I know what it’s like: disappointing and stupid, short-sighted, amoral, exclusive, heteronormative, banal…and now I know exactly who my audience is, or who can be my audience based on information about them (age, work life, personal life, college, media, culture, hobbies, influences, social media posts… I can go attack people with my truth, hunt them down, target them…yes, targeted advertising like everyone else is doing, all the Penn graduates aligned as marketing managers in formation blasting out content boxes getting what they call “attention.” But the minutes in their stats are fake; they wish they engaged people; they don’t.
now, to fish out something from my stream of consciousness - to shape and fashion something, to organize, to be edited by someone who wants to speak as me—we, the team, speak as me. Wow, imagine all the men out there with their startups fighting the good fight against competitors and inertia and being unknown. What a war. What a slugfest, trying to matter to people who are important, trying to overwrite their reality, insisting your brand matters. Wow. Exhausting. I can’t believe all those meetings are happening. Well, growing up is learning what you’re not and giving yourself permission to be what you are—I’m OK with what I’m not. What a fuckfest, meetings I’m not in. Enjoy your salad with ahi tuna you bastards.
*five hours later with my agent* yes, hi I’ll have the ahi tuna niçoise salad and a Diet Coke. Thanks
you are whoever you say you are people don’t realize they can renounce their parents, their past honestly, two years ago should be foolish but most people cling to their timeline
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notfinebutfine · 7 years ago
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My very codependent fairytale
Once upon a time there was a kingdom called Sassonia and it was populated by three different races, the Humans, the Boulder Folk and the Ethereals, all coexisting peacefully despite their differences and even falling in love with one another. Well, for the most part Humans would keep their affections within their own kind, but the Boulder Folk were invariably drawn by the Ethereal people. See, heavy stone people were built to see themselves as better than their peers and could not witness attractive qualities in Boulder Folk other than their own selves. Proud and superior to everyone around them, they would become endlessly fascinated by the light and frivolous energy of the Ethereal people. Once paired, the heaviness of their rock solid bodies would be alleviated by their weightless soulmate, which felt oh so good! So the Boulders figured out, best to hold onto your air partner really tight; after all it wasn’t unheard of the Ethereal spouses to float away  in the middle of the night if not thoroughly guarded. In these unions children would often be borne. If the child took after the Ethereal mother or father it was a blessing, however, if the baby was born a Boulder baby, their Boulder parent would rage with discontent. After all Boulders knew that other Boulders were too ugly, too clumsy, too heavy, and too stonehearted. A Boulder just could never bring himself learn to love another Boulder, not even if it was their own little one. An Ethereal had no such worry and would shower their family with love and care whether the baby was an air baby or a rock baby. On and on the cycle of life would go just like that. And the heavy Boulders would seek out their Ethereal mates, and hold on very tight onto them lest the Ethereal float away, which (as we know) would happen every now and again.
One rainy day a high-ranking Boulder Kin Officer set out of his family home in the Sassonian Capital to find himself a bride. His mother wished him well, “Get out of my sight already,Petrus, honestly if you were a boulderwoman you’d long be a spinster by now!”, and gave him a decisive pat (or a push perhaps) on the back. The young Boulder travelled long and far and wide in many directions, but couldn’t find the right girl. After 6 years on the road his search came to an end. Just as he reached the Edgelands of Sassonia, and was about give up on finding the right girl, she appeared. A true Ethereal, she was as beautiful as a lake spirit, as young and fresh as the gentle rose bud heralding the warmth of May. Her eyes met his, and in an instant he knew that she’s the one he’d marry. Although they didn’t speak the same dialect, they found out a great deal about each other within days. The girl’s name was Hope and she’d agreed to marry Petrus and move to the capital or even the edge of the world itself. So the young couple, besotted with each other, moved back to the chief city of their land to live happily ever after.
The end. 
Not really.
Did you really think this was the end? Alas, the young lovers' troubles have only just begun.
Petrus was over the moon with his new wife. No sooner they arrived to the capital Petrus took Hope to his mother’s house and beaming with excitement introduced her. “Wasn’t there anything uglier where you got her from? This will never fly.” his mother declared looking Hope up and down. Determined to be happy with or without the maternal blessing the young couple decided to have a child, a child that would prove everyone who had ever doubted their union wrong, a beautiful soft pink air baby. The boulder father was delighted when he was presented with a Cherub named Petra, after him. Petra was a delightful little girl, she almost never cried, she was clever and obedient, a joy to show and share. Even Petrus’ mother seemed to love Petra. Why wouldn’t she? Petra was nothing like her disappointing ugly son, who paired with a foreign weakling from borderlands. Petra was a shining diamond in her family crown. There was a secret to her though, a secret that only her Ethereal mother knew of, and the one she could never reveal. Unlike babies born in Sassonia before her, Petra didn’t take entirely after her Ethereal mother; Petra's belly was rock solid. Her innards contained a secret. She was a Boulder and an Ethereal at the same time. Hope decided that the secret had to remain concealed from everyone, Petra included, lest Sassonians outed her as a freak or, worse still, her father, repulsed by another boulder person in his family, disowned the hybrid daughter.
So they went on. And life went on. And Petrus held tightly onto Hope every waking hour of every day. He knew that the tighter his grip was, the lighter he felt, and the more his wife knew he loved her. He wasn’t always sure how to express his appreciation (his mother would not allow such frivolities to fly) and clumsily offered his tenderness by relieving his wife from any work or any worries other than the joyful burden of family rearing. The more he helped the more his wife grew restless and unhappy, unheard of among the Ethereal people! Hope went onto hiding yet another unnatural secret. So Petrus, Hope and their daughter went on, and time went by, until one day Hope flew away. Petrus blamed himself for not holding onto his beloved tight enough, little Petra blamed herself. The Boulfer officer looked at his daughter and saw just how much she looked like her departed mother. He knew that he had to hold this love even tighter in order not to lose what’s dear to him, unaware of clasping a Chimera. Little Petra, none the wiser, grew to become a fair young maiden, charming and clever. She looked after her bereft father best she could, she cleaned, and she cooked, and she offered a compassionate ear to ailing Petrus, who in turn became more reclusive and protective. Petra knew that the only way out of his tight grip was trickery.
One day Petra realised that she, now a woman, wanted a future outside of her father’s doting restraints. She tricked her father into believing she went onto a short trip and she’d certainly be back in no time. Her exact riddle I must not reveal, but Petra never made it back to her stomping grounds again.
Out in the whole wide world Petra’s eyes were open to all the things and all the  people she’d not once seen before. She ate and drank voraciously, she kissed passionately, she sang and danced, insensitive of her own uniqueness. The trait that made her unlike any other Etheral girl in the kingdom. Her stone-heavy core.
Petra’s hunt for love went fruitless. Every boulder man she met would be fascinated with her ethereal looks at first but in time repulsed by her character so mismatched with Petra's looks. Similarly Petra noticed a sinking feeling in the pits of her stomach every time a boulder suitor got close to her. Petra’s every attempt at finding her happily ever after got dashed; her stone guts tying themselves in most painful of the knots each and every time. Unaware of her Boulder nature, Petra sought out Boulders to only be offended by their very essence. Regretfully Ethereals like herself were just not her type. And she grew weary of looking.
Petra’s only option was to seek advice of a powerful wizard.  So she found one in Sassonian Loot classifieds (yes, that easy). The wizard saw that Petra had a duality about her. A secret so deep that she had no view of it. Spell after spell, the wizard eased Petra into seeing her stone cold, rock hard tummy, he taught her how to use her gift, how to be both soft and vivacious, and hard and determined. The wizard told Petra that she didn’t have to be a Boulder Kin or an Ethereal Maiden, she was only a Human after all. A Human! Petra now had to learn how to be a human.
She foulght many battles, travelled to many lands, and met different people. She had to listen to the people and listen to herself, even when the Zephyr was whistling into her ears and raucous stones deafened her senses, she listened to Humans, she took lessons from them. At once Petra build a little cottage on top of a hill where she could be undisturbed. She’d spend many a happy day making it her home, making, building, mending, and cooking for no one but herself. She’d delight in gathering fruits and berries from the woods near her cottage and talking to every cat she met. Cats behave arrogantly just like the Boulder people, but that didn’t hurt Petra’s feelings – she knew cats couldn’t help themselves and that they were full of rocks. (That’s why they are so tired and sleepy all the time.)
Petra was happy. Truly happy. So much so, that she decided that love interest was not worth bothering over, not if it detracted from her fulfilled contentment. One day, the wise wizard, her old mentor appeared in a cloud of iridescent smoke for the last time, to reveal his wisdom to her. “Go and find someone who matches this happiness of yours”, and puff he went. It took Petra a while to understand wizard’s last counsel, but she went out into the wide world yet again to find her match. Her soul mate, who went by the name Balfour, happened to look for someone at that very same time. He was a fine looking, kind and wise young man, who didn't wince at the stones protruding from Petra’s midriff but instead kissed them tenderly until they revealed to be diamonds. So together Petra and Balfour shared happiness and multiplied it, they cooked, and cleaned, and mended things together, and scratched cats’ “underchins” and dogs’ “behindears”, and loved each other more and more each day.
The end? Not really. It’s just a beginning of another story.
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defiantscribe · 7 years ago
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The Return of the Mack
I'm far from being a "mack" by any means of the definition, but it felt like it was appropriate for my age demographic and title.
I've found a need to write again.  I've been having all kinds of stupid drama at my job crop up and I've just felt the need to start spewing my opinion for no good reason than everyone else on the internet does it, so why the hell shouldn't I?
Plus, it gives me a reason to write.  I used to love writing.  I'm not awesome enough to write a story.  I've still got a story in my head from when I was 15.  After 20 plus years, I still have no real desire to get it out of my head and out into the world.  Honestly, just thinking about it right now, it might be better done via animation (most likely japanese anime) than any other way.  I just can't see having some of those ideas of mine perverted, "changed" or compromised because of limitations.  If you can draw that shit, you can make my vision a proper reality.  Still haven't ironed out all the kinks and for as much as I like to write, I don't read books, so following some sort of format that would be accepted by any sort of editor would be like trying to push a boulder up hill.
So, what to cheese about?  I used to have a very constant source of information when I worked in news.  The AP Newswire was a place where if you knew where to look, you could find some pretty obscure stories.  I would love to share those again and talk about them, but I'm having a bit of trouble with finding a good source or at least finding something worth saying something about.
I could always try to talk about actual, important current events, but I'm not a news outlet and unless it's really striking a cord with me or upsetting me in some fashion, that's other people problems that will eventually happen, not happen, or not affect me in the slightest.
Okay, let's talk about clickbait.  Now, for the most part, if OP can deliver on the image I'm clicking on in at least a little bit of fashion, you've not duped me 100% and I won't feel like a complete sucker for clicking your link.  But, here's where I have an issue with it.  I just came across this gem on Yahoo's front page.
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That's fucking Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys.  Try not to gasp when I see what he looks like now?  He doesn't look like that in real fucking life, ya dumbshit.  He looks like this in real life:
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These types of clickbait are the worst, but the problem of them remains because there's at least a possible million dumbshits out there that will click the link, only to be redirected and be bombarded with a shit ton of spam.  I'm the 1,467,896th visitor; yet I won something because of that stupid ass number?  I don't think so.  Humans are about symmetry, we do NOT give a prize like that for such. We may give the 1,500,000th visitor something, but that's a nice, even, calm number.
Despite all that, what kind of sucker believes that shit?  I'm a sucker, sure, but even I'm not so deluded into thinking that I've won something on the internet.  That's like having a Canadian girlfriend.  When I had one (I had two, actually.  Well, one was sort of a girlfriend and the other was an infatuation), people wouldn't have ever believed me because that was the stigma.  
Me: "I got a girlfriend from Canada..."
Other People: "Right...."
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I'm sure there are people who win legit contests held by reputable companies, but some random webpage I visited with some random flashing link?  Says I can win 2 iPads?  Yeah.... only thing I'm winning is a call from "Microsoft" and the dubious pleasure of taking my PC to a local tech shop after "letting them into my computer to find the viruses."
But back to clickbait.  It's a powerful advertising tool.  I still find myself being a victim of it, but it's only if the accompanying text draws me in.  If not, or if it's a blatant "we didn't even try with this shit...", fuck that.... I'll drive AROUND your ass to avoid your bullshit.
Truth be told, this first blog post is pretty weak sauce.  Even my ass can see that.  Not only that, but full disclosure, my body is trying to force me into my "after work armchair nap" and is mildly winning.  I'm trying to stay straight and not sleep, which fucks up my sleep schedule, but right now all I can do is finish typing these sentences in between "resting my eyes" sessions.
I was honestly getting ready to give up on finding a fun little news story from today or at least the last few days and was just going to post a link to a youtube video that constantly makes me laugh, when I think I hit internet GOLD.  Fuck, this desire to sleep is real, but I'm trying, I swear.
http://www.waow.com/story/35855686/2017/07/11/police-woman-sets-boyfriend-on-fire-then-dumps-urine-on-him
Police: Woman sets boyfriend on fire then dumps urine on him
PENN HILLS, Pa. (ABC) -
A Pennsylvania woman is accused of setting her boyfriend on fire and then dousing him with urine because she was angry, police said.
Leigh Ann Sepelyak, 38, faces charges including attempted homicide and arson for the incident early Sunday morning.
Penn Hills police said Sepelyak and her boyfriend were involved in an argument in the bottom floor of a home on Lime Hollow Road. When the boyfriend fell asleep, investigators said Sepelyak poured gasoline on him and set it on fire with a lit match.
“The gas ignited, and the boyfriend caught fire from the waist down,” Penn Hills Police Chief Howard Burton told Pittsburgh’s Action News 4.
Authorities said Sepelyak then decided to put the fire out, but instead of using water, grabbed a bucket of urine that the couple had been using in place of a bathroom and poured it onto the victim.
People who live above the couple drove the victim to UPMC Mercy, where he’s said to have burns to at least 25 percent of his lower body.
Penn Hills police said they had no prior interactions with the couple, and Sepelyak would only explain the incident by saying that she was angry.
What the actual fuck?!  First, this lady is a looker (click the link to go to the story), but what kind of fucked up do you have to be to first, set someone on fire because you're mad.  Not only are you mad, but the fight has ended (somewhat) because the other person is SLEEPING, but number two (no pun intended), you're pissing in a bucket.  What the hell is wrong with your toilet that you're pissing in a bucket?  Not only that, but one you have just handy for putting out boyfriend fires?  
You know, just when I think the world can't get any more bizarre, stories like this help to make me feel like my sloppy lifestyle is what these people would classify as "fancy".
Christ, lady.... get some god damn help.
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Well, I'm going to wrap this up for now.  Hopefully I'll have something a little more juicy to talk about later.  I may update with some work related stuff, but I do have work people who could potentially read this, so I must choose my words wisely if I decide to dance down that road.  
Cheers, and thanks for reading.  It's fun to write again.
For the 90s kids.... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uB1D9wWxd2w
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exosmutxoxo · 8 years ago
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THE CHOSEN ONE (Part 1) 🌙
A/N: Hello everyone! This is the beginning of my new series and I hope y’all would enjoy it! Just some side notes, my OC is heavily inspired by Evangeline Samos of the ‘Red Queen’ series by @vaveyard , one of my most favourite authors, as well as the ‘MAMA’ MV by Exo themselves! This dystopian series has a heavy theme of feminism and gender equality, a topic which I felt needs more exposure! Enjoy, my babies, and remember to leave feedback when you’re done reading! x
Genre: Dystopian/Supernatural/Action/Smut in later parts
Word Count: 8825
Synopsis: In the land of Exotica, thirteen kingdoms reign. Thirteen different types of bestowed powers, thirteen different types of abilities, thirteen different types of gifts. In this world, everybody is bestowed with only one ability. So what happens when The Chosen One is discovered to possess all thirteen powers at once?
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PART 1 | Part 2
‘Survival isn’t a race. It’s a dance’.
I, Princess Kwon Syona, was born with the bestowed gift of being able to manipulate metal. It’s a deadly power and I wasn’t always a master at it; in fact, I’d always struggled to accept it when I was younger, unable to comprehend the fact that such an unassuming young girl like me was gifted with such power.
Over the years, I’d observed with wide-eyed awe as metal pieces bent to my every will, creaking and groaning with a mere flick of my wrist. Steel knives slice through air whenever I command them to, aluminium foils twisting and turning into dangerous daggers and harmless silver jewellery morphing into weapons of my choice.
At the tender age of eighteen, I’m considered a master of my own ability. Thanks to tireless training sessions, target practices and mock battles with people who possess their own powers, I’m on my way to ruling the Metal Kingdom of Exotica.
The land of Exotica is split into thirteen different kingdoms, the Metal Kingdom known as the ruling kingdom. The others are namely the Flight, Telekinesis, Frost, Healing, Time Control, Lightning, Teleportation, Earth, Air, Water, Fire and Light Kingdoms.
To put it in the simplest terms, Exotica is further split into half, drawing a thick and strict line through the land with six kingdoms on either side with the ruling Metal Kingdom perched high up on the hill overlooking the entire sparse of grey land. On the side where the sun’s blinding rays spread over like a glowing blanket, the Teleportation, Earth, Air, Water, Fire and Light Kingdoms lie evenly spaced apart from each other. These six kingdoms are classified under the area also known as ‘Peace Kingdoms’, where the sun shines radiantly and where the birds chirp and everything is good and golden (well, sort of. It has its flaws too).
On the other side of Exotica, six other kingdoms lie clustered together. Namely, these consist of the Flight, Telekinesis, Frost, Healing, Time Control and Lightning kingdoms. The sun’s rays never reach this end of the land, also known as the area of the ‘Bloodbath Kingdoms’. Over here, everything is dark and decaying, polluted with the evident black cloud of evil and hatred. No soul dares to tread on the land of the Bloodbath Kingdoms, not even the nobles of the ruling Metal Kingdom.
Being the princess of the Metal Kingdom and the only heir to the throne, I visited the Bloodbath Kingdoms once when I was a little girl. The royal family was passing through all those years ago, parading through the land in order to reiterate our unwavering power and tight control over Exotica and I was there to witness every little detail, my ever-narrowed eyes honing in on the Bloodbath Kingdoms. Over the years, I’ve been told stories and recollections of how Exotica became the way it is today, endless myths and fabricated tales of the real reason for why there is a thick line cutting through the land as sharp as a blade.
Six hundred years ago, there was an outbreak of war between the Water Kingdom and the Flight Kingdom. The Flight ringleader was accused of attempting to steal information from its fellow neighbouring kingdom and hence, the Water Kingdom didn’t take too kindly to it. Allied with the other Peace Kingdoms, the Water ringleader demanded for the Flight Kingdom to return what they stole, to which the other party refused. This scuffle eventually escalated to a full-blown war, resulting in thousands of deaths and casualties on either side of the land. The war lasted for years, either side refusing to back down until the ruling Metal Kingdom intervened. A peace treaty was signed by the kingdoms involved in the war and Exotica’s ruling king (one of my ancestors, obviously) created a thick boundary straight through the land, segregating the Peace and Bloodbath Kingdoms once and for all.
Up to this very day, the Water Kingdom is still the ringleader of the Peace Kingdoms whereas the Flight Kingdom leads the Bloodbath side. As for the Metal Kingdom, we remain on neutral terms on both sides of Exotica, although we tend to associate ourselves with the Peace Kingdoms more.
This fact explains why I, the ruling princess of Exotica, am always seen training with the boys of the Peace Kingdoms. All of them are the heirs to the thrones of their own respective kingdoms, training hard and tirelessly spending each and every day with their abilities in order to deem themselves fit for the crowns.
I have no siblings, which is why I turn to the boys of the Peace Kingdoms for companionship and company, as well as a base for my personal training. I’ve practically grown up with them, sharing friendships and exchange of powers during training sessions. One nineteen-year-old boy in particular, who goes by the name of Park Chanyeol, has grown really close with me over the past few years. Heir to the throne of the Fire Kingdom, he possesses deadly flame abilities of his own and has no problem in charring people to ashes if they ever get on his last nerves.
We’ve been chummy training buddies for as long as I can remember, agreeing to take each other on in the midst of the training field. Fireballs and steel blades have thrashed the field to pieces, destroying almost everything in the process of our ruthless mock battles, but there’s a good side to this destruction. We’ve pushed each other to our own limits, forcing either party to grow out of our comfort zones and attack without an ounce of mercy.
It’s true that Chanyeol and I have inflicted ugly wounds on each other as a result of our killer abilities but neither of us give it much thought. Amongst the Peace Kingdoms, there are no healers as all of them are residing with the rest of the Bloodbath Kingdoms. In turn, this has trained us to attack with precision and chilling accuracy instead of blind rage and force like the Bloodbath Kingdoms do. As a result, I’ve accumulated a total of five burn scars on my arms and legs due to Chanyeol’s scorching flames and as for him, he has a large gash on his left cheek and a few prominent cuts on the back of his knuckles due to my merciless metallic weapons.
We’re not the only ones with scars, though. The rest of the boys possess bruises and scars and gashes of their own, all proudly earned from various mock battles with one another. Even Kim Jongin of the Teleportation Kingdom cannot escape from the raging force of our abilities, not even with his swift movements.
Amongst the Peace Kingdoms, the deadliest ability has got to be Chanyeol’s raging flame. Following closely in the ranking of power, Do Kyungsoo of the Earth Kingdom possesses some frightening skills of his own. His controlled boulders and superhuman strength has sent me running for the woods before and despite his small body figure, he really packs a punch when he’s in the mood (which is most of the time, as small people are seemingly permanently angry, which I can definitely vouch for since I’m small and angry myself).
Hot on Kyungsoo’s heels is Kim Junmyeon of the feisty Water Kingdom. Born with the gift of being able to control and manipulate the seven seas, Junmyeon definitely puts his powers to good use. Floods and tsunamis have wrecked the land of Exotica ever since he came into existence, even roiling up to the Metal Kingdom perched on top of the highest hill in the land. I’ve honestly lost count of the number of times when I had to yell at him to ‘keep your goddamned wetness to yourself!’ whenever the tidal waves splashed up against my bedroom windows in the grand castle. Nevertheless, Junmyeon is a good guy and a powerful one at that, and I have to give him credit for that.
Next up is Byun Baekhyun of the Light Kingdom. Now don’t confuse this with the Lightning Kingdom on the Bloodbath side of Exotica. Baekhyun’s ability to manipulate light is as deadly as lightning itself, considering the fact that he’s able to absorb rays straight from the sun and deflect them into the faces of his opponents, which is not a pleasant experience. Junmyeon walked around with sunglasses for days on end after receiving the end of Baekhyun’s ability, too petrified to be blinded again.
Anyway, Baekhyun’s power doesn’t stop there. Besides leaching energy from the sun, his favourite attack tactic is to bend the light around him to his own will, allowing him to appear invisible for short periods of time. This gives him the opportunity to sneak up on enemies and attack them from behind, a very clever technique if I do say so myself.
Oh Sehun of the Air Kingdom follows closely behind Baekhyun. With the gift of being able to control the winds surrounding him, Sehun’s power is a lot more dangerous than it sounds. Not only do the winds bend to his will but so does gravity. With a mere flick of his hand, he can send a person spiralling up into the air while taking a sip from his trademark cup of bubble tea with a bored expression on his sculptured face. Despite the power he radiates, Sehun prefers to use his ability for his own amusement and entertainment rather than take his training seriously. On the battlefield, he’s normally tossing people in the air for fun or sending gusts of wind through Chanyeol’s flames and extinguishing them, just for the sake of it. But nevertheless, Sehun is a lovely guy and he knows when to back his teammates up during a fight, practically blowing the enemies away (no pun intended).
Lastly, there’s Kim Jongin of the Teleportation Kingdom. Although he lacks in the attacking aspect of his ability, he definitely makes up for it in defence. He works quickly and quietly, darting in and out of enemies and opponents during a battle like magic and serving as distractions in order to provide us with the opportunities to move in for our own attacks. Besides that, he sometimes serves as a spy for the Peace Kingdoms, able to pop into the land of the Bloodbath Kingdoms once in a while, although the ruling Metal Kingdom is always wary for him, concerned about his safety. But he does it so perfectly that it always leaves everyone in awe and slightly envious of his agile ability as compared to the rest of our destructive ones.
The boys of the Peace Kingdoms are exactly as they sound; peaceful, serene, mostly utilizing their abilities for defence means as compared to brutal attacks. They are friends, trustworthy and loyal allies to the ruling Metal Kingdom of Exotica.
A faraway cry from the boys on the other side of the land. And based on my knowledge on them, I definitely prefer to train in the light of the blinding sun as compared to the grey and decaying lands of the Bloodbath Kingdoms.
In contrast to the evenly spaced Peace Kingdoms, the Bloodbath Kingdoms are squashed together on the other end of Exotica in a very unsightly and claustrophobic manner. The cracked grounds are decaying away, the surrounding nature brown and withering into nothingness despite the presence of the Healing Kingdom.
The Bloodbath Kingdoms only have healers for one purpose: to cure the brutally injured and wounded. On this side of Exotica, the kingdoms exist to fight, to hunt and to wreak havoc all over the lands and nothing else. They flaunt their abilities for violence, bloodshed and war, zero ounces of compassion running through their veins. I have vague knowledge of the heirs of the thrones to every kingdom but I know enough to arm myself in case Exotica is ever thrown into another war. 
First up: Kris Wu from the Flight Kingdom.
He is skyscraper tall and intimidating with a look that can cut through glass. Similar to the rest of his kingdom, he possesses a pair of gigantic angel wings, although he’s far from angelic. This pair of wings allows him to tear through even the most brutal of winds, his lean body cutting through the air like a jet plane. He’s able to soar over the land of Exotica like an eagle, something which puts him at a greater advantage in battle. Other than that, I don’t know much about him and I don’t intend to.
Secondly, Luhan of the Telekinesis Kingdom. I’ve caught glimpses of him when I used to linger on the edge of the divider segregating the kingdoms in my younger days, staring him down as fiercely as I could. He would blink back at me slowly, his doe-like eyes glimmering with concealed mischief until I turned away, disgusted with his leering grin.
Luhan’s innocence extended as far as his deer-like features and baby cheeks. The rest of him is rotten, overflowing with the hunger to cause trouble and the need to inflict pain and destruction. His ability requires great mental strength, the wheels of his mind always spinning in motion whenever he desires to move an object. Based on what I know about the Telekinesis Kingdom, they utilize their minds to attack their opponents, which puts everyone around them at a dismaying disadvantage since nobody possesses the ability to read minds. If Luhan wanted to drop an oak tree over someone’s head, all he had to do is simply channel all his mental energy into doing so and just like magic, his target would end up getting crushed by a tree. Simple, really. Yet deadly.
Kim Minseok of the Frost Kingdom is the next one in line. This boy thrives in the bitter winters of Exotica, able to absorb the iciness in the air like a sponge and turn his opponents into popsicles if he desires to do so. Chanyeol has always longed to indulge in a battle with Minseok just to show off his scorching flame skills and melt every ounce of frost and ice but deep down, I know better. Minseok is a born fighter with the trained skills to send ice running through a person’s veins, killing them instantly, and I don’t want Chanyeol (or anyone) nearby when that occurs. Obviously, Minseok’s heart is made up of ice as well and I despise him for it.
The fourth is Zhang Yixing who is from the Healing Kingdom. If I didn’t know any better, I would perceive him as a kind-hearted soul who is always ready to lend a healing hand to a person in need. Ha, fat chance. Yixing is as ruthless as the rest of them, utterly selfish and only utilizing his ability to assist the people under the Bloodbath Kingdoms. His demure personality only repels me from him even more, too wary of his true intentions to linger around him for too long. I don’t want to know what runs through his mind.
Next is Kim Jongdae of the Lightning Kingdom. Like I mentioned earlier, don’t confuse him with Baekhyun of the Light Kingdom. Jongdae is nothing like my dear Baekhyun. Jongdae’s ability is deadlier, enabling him to command lightning straight from the sky and absorb every ounce of electricity around him. Sparks bleed through his veins, making it seem like he’s a walking live wire ready to explode at any given opportunity. And I don’t doubt that he’ll definitely explode during a battle, always prepared to flaunt his skills with that smug Chesire-like grin of his always tugging at the corners of his lips. Perhaps that explains why there’s always a storm cloud lingering over the Bloodbath Kingdoms; he uses it as combat practice, absorbing its electricity and toying with it so that he can use it on some poor unsuspecting victim in the future.
Lastly, there is Huang Zitao of the Time Control Kingdom. Tao’s ability is slightly more complicated as compared to the rest. It’s as dangerous as it is useful, depending on how he chooses to use it. Dangerous because he can manipulate the forces of time, propelling people to travel backwards against their will. But useful, because he is able to halt a battle midway or rewind time after a bad event occurs. I don’t know much of the Time Control Kingdom but I’ve always thought it was a really cool ability ever since I was young. Compared to the rest of the Bloodbath Kingdoms abilities, Tao definitely clinches the top place of possessing the most dangerous one.
When I was a little girl, I would glance out of my bedroom window in the grand castle on the hill and peer down at the land of the Bloodbath Kingdoms, a mixture of disgust and awe always flooding through me. The boys would always be engaged in some sort of violent combat battle whenever I observed them; flashes of lightning bolting across the grey skies, sparkling tornados of snowflakes tumbling down, random objects flying across the land and cutting through the air sharply. They were always at each other’s throats, leaving no room for compassion and mercy as they took every opportunity to maximise their abilities.
Yixing would always be lingering on the sidelines, ready to spring into the battlefield and heal any wounds or injuries with those magical fingers of his. It was always atrociously fascinating to watch a practice session unfurling on the land of the Bloodbath Kingdoms, a nail-biting performance which never fails to keep me perched on the edge of my seat anxiously. I never got to witness such merciless assaults amongst the people of the Peace Kingdoms, and I doubt they’ll ever get to that stage. Silently, I hope they never will.
“Do you guys know about the legend of ‘The Chosen One’?” I hear Junmyeon pipe up as I wander over to their little group gathered at the edge of the training field, all of them sprawled out on the grass.
It’s a beautiful day and training has just ended, allowing all of us to catch a breather before resuming any other activities. As I sit cross-legged on the grass, Chanyeol shoots his trademark lopsided grin at me, giving me a nod in greeting. I return the small gesture, the smile lingering on my lips as I turn my attention to the animated conversation at hand.
“It’s pretty cool”, Baekhyun chatters excitedly, responding to Junmyeon’s earlier question. “Imagine being that special someone who possesses all the thirteen powers of Exotica. Cool shit”.
“Wait, is that true?” Jongin’s jaw drops, obviously impressed. “I’ve never heard of that”.
“It’s one of the most ancient legends in our land”, Chanyeol proclaims. “Syona knows all about it, don’t you?”
I snap to attention at the mention of my name, blinking around at the ring of boys who are now clustered around me with eager expressions on their faces like a group of schoolchildren ready for storytelling time. My mind reels back to the ancient books I used to read in the grand library back at the castle, my fingers thumbing through endless yellow pages of mysterious history. In addition, my father used to share fascinating myths of the past, telling me stories of Exotica which date back to at least eight hundred years ago, a time before the land was plunged into war.
“It’s the oldest legend of Exotica”, I begin slowly, the memories of those long-lost stories gradually resurfacing in my mind. “A thousand years ago, our land witnessed a miracle unfold before their very eyes. The princess of the ruling kingdom -which was the Flight Kingdom, before the Metal Kingdom came into existence- was due to be married off when she turned eighteen. There was a ceremony in which she had the opportunity to select the most suitable prince for herself.
During the ceremony, the various princes had to indulge in a full combat battle with the princess in order to deem themselves powerful enough to claim the crown. From what I was told, as soon as the prince of the Water Kingdom kicked off the first battle, she attempted to spread her wings but what happened instead was that she managed to absorb the moisture straight from the prince’s tidal waves. It happened so abruptly that the crowd was stunned into silence, including the princess herself.
Still in shock, she realized that she was far from done. The other abilities started seeping from her fingertips like nobody’s business, lightning sparks and licks of flames and bursts of frost. It’s no surprise that she never found a suitable prince, since she was more lethal than all of them combined. She was a queen all by herself, no man by her side and they nicknamed her ‘The Chosen One’. Not only did she possess every single ability out there, she was also the first girl to clinch the title of Exotica’s ruling queen without getting married.
Over the years, the people of Exotica believed that The Chosen One’s gift of possessing all of the powers is passed down through the generations. Someone is bound to unleash those powers once every hundred years but so far, nobody has been discovered to do so. It’s been like that ever since, and the legend of The Chosen One has lived on up till this very day”.
There is a collective sigh of awe amongst the boys. Eyes sparkling, another animated conversation is sparked off as they start to chatter between themselves excitedly, heatedly discussing about who could be the next Chosen One. As for me, I turn away with a sigh of my own, tucking stray strands of my silver hair behind my ear as I gaze up at the grand castle perched on the nearby hill with a pang of longing in my heart.
All this talk about princesses getting married at the age of eighteen and searching for a suitable prince is like a twist of a knife; I just turned eighteen a few months ago and I can’t run away from marriage at this rate. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an incredulously unfair system. Female heirs are coerced into getting married at such a tender age, while male heirs have the luxury of freedom to do whatever their heart desires. In Exotica, sons have always been favoured over daughters. Sons are instantly deemed as more powerful, more lethal, worthier. Males rule and decide, while their queens linger on the sidelines like fools, ready to cater to the needs of their husbands at any given second.
Fuck the system, I always think. But it’s just a mere thought and nothing more, my opinions suppressed beneath the weight of a male-dominated world. Princesses like me aren’t treated like royalty like one would expect me to be. Oh no. Instead, I’m treated like a pawn in a game that the nobles play, a piece too worthy to be chucked away. I’m the key to the Metal Kingdom’s thriving future and the crushing responsibility of bringing the honour to the ruling kingdom is something I carry around on my shoulders.
It’s not something changeable. I can’t just throw around a few knives in a fit of rage, hoping to weasel my way out of an inescapable marriage. It’s my duty as Exotica’s princess and as much as I silently detest the way our world is shaped, my loyalty to my kingdom is stronger than my loathing for the tipped scale of power between the two genders.
“Syona”.
I turn in the direction of the husky voice calling my name, coming face to face with Chanyeol. There’s a glow in his eyes, a small indication of the fire burning within him. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
He stretches his hand out to brush his fingertips against my arm reassuringly and I flinch away on instinct, the burn scars he gave me years ago prickling on my skin. Noticing my sudden retreatment, Chanyeol withdraws his hand understandingly.
“A penny for your thoughts?” He murmurs beneath his breath, careful to keep his voice low to prevent the other boys from overhearing.
My teeth clench tightly, my ability threatening to seep through my fingertips due to my gradually rising temper. I can almost feel the sharp blades of my manipulated metal claws tearing through the thin skin of my knuckles. “Later”, I mutter. “My claws are coming out”.
If Chanyeol is frightened, he doesn’t show it. Instead, a trail of bright orange flame snakes itself around his fingertips and with a snap of his fingers, it disappears into thin air. “Let the anger go, Syona”, he whispers. “It’ll extinguish just like flame if you do”.
I scoff, getting to my feet and tossing back my hair. I’m small for my eighteen years of age and I hate myself for it; I’m supposed to be towering and threatening like a princess and future queen should be, not scampering around on little legs at only five feet tall like a twelve-year-old. My instructors still berate me for my height (lack of it, to be more exact) up to this very day, like as though it’s my fault that I still look like a kid. Just another thing to get angry about, I think to myself grimly.
The other boys glance up, noticing my sudden movement and the chatter grinds to a halt. “Are you leaving already?” Baekhyun whines. Above our heads, the sun’s glaring rays dim slightly, a clear indication that he’s upset with my departure.
“Yeah”, I say shortly. “I’ve got stuff to do back at the castle”.
“You can come and train with us again later in the evening”, Kyungsoo proffers, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He hardly shows an ounce of emotion so the fact that he just did warms my heart a little.
I duck my head in agreement. “Of course. Just hurl a boulder through my bedroom window later”.
Laughter ripples throughout all of them and we exchange our usual farewells, congratulating each other for another smooth-going training session earlier this morning.
Chanyeol offers to walk me back to the castle but I decline, choosing to make my way home so that I have some time to gather my thoughts before I throw myself back into the reality of the outrageously sexist world I live in.
“You’re late”.
Lady Yuri is perched on the edge of her swivel chair behind the large mahogany desk decorating the bare training room, her silver hair piled up in a perfectly messy bun on top of her head. Equally silver spectacles balance on the bridge of her nose and she peers at me disapprovingly over the rim of them, her dark eyes flashing with displeasure.
Kwon Yuri is not much different from me, although she prefers to act like it. We have the exact same blood running through our veins, both of us possessing the ability to manipulate metal and the same gorgeous silver hair and similar eerily dark eyes. In short, she’s one of my closest cousins and also the closest I can ever get to a bossy elder sister. However, as much as we’re similar in our hard-headed attitude, permanent scowling expressions, hair colour and last name, the outstanding difference between us is our heights and ages.
At twenty-four years old, Yuri towers over me at almost six feet tall, aided by the platform heels she has on 24/7. She often uses this to her advantage, opting to rap me on the skull with her knuckles whenever she’s annoyed with my snarky attitude. She has every right to, considering the fact that my father appointed her as my personal trainer. Ever since I was a little girl with the title of Exotica’s leading princess, she’s always been there to train me on how to walk with books on my head, utilize the different cutleries during mealtimes and every other nonsensical thing princesses are trained to do.
I couldn’t care less. I just like Yuri’s presence, although she annoys me at times. But like I mentioned earlier, she’s just like the big sister I never had. Unlike the rest of the kingdoms in Exotica who treat me like I’m superior (which I honestly am), Yuri keeps me grounded. She tells me off when there’s a need to, she reprimands me in a way nobody else dares to, she keeps me in check. Lady Yuri takes her job as personal trainer seriously and I let her, since it’s the only way I can grow closer to her.
But today, I’m not in the mood to deal with anyone. As soon as I walked through the double doors of the castle, I’m reprimanded for being late for etiquette lessons and it just makes me feel smothered. Just like everything else in this damned castle.
Huffing, I stuff my hands in my pockets and stare her down. “I apologize, Lady Yuri. I was preoccupied with…other activities”. My voice is cold and steely. Princess-like.
Yuri cocks up an eyebrow questioningly, pushing her spectacles up onto her head. “Other activities, you say? Princess Syona, may I ask about these particular activities? Did they involve Park Chanyeol, by any chance?”
I groan loudly. “Oh my god, Yuri. We’ve been through this countless number of times. Chanyeol is just my training partner, and an idiotic one at that. Nothing more”.
She clucks her tongue dismissively, obviously choosing to not believe me. “Well, that’s true. He’s all gangly limbs and awkward clumsiness, far from prince material. You should seriously consider Kim Junmyeon. He’s blonde, handsome and husband material. Plus, tying the knot between the Metal and Water Kingdoms would propel Exotica to a whole new level of prosperity. Consider it, Syona”.
Her dismissive words irk me in some unknown way. I feel like a provoked animal, baring my teeth and ready to fight tooth and nail for my dignity. All this talk of marriage and men and ‘tying the knot’ sends shivers of rage through my bones, my temper rising like mercury in a thermometer and the familiar sting of my manipulated blades cutting through my knuckles returns. I clench my fists by my sides, allowing Chanyeol’s words from earlier on to pivot in my mind like a lazy carousel.
Let the anger go, Syona. It’ll extinguish just like flame if you do.
“I’m not interested in Kim Junmyeon”, I begin calmly, willing my voice to remain steady. “Neither am I interested in marriage. I’ve mentioned this before”.
Yuri emits an exasperated sigh at my defiance, studying her cuticles with an air of boredom. “Don’t let your father hear that”.
“My father has got nothing to do with my choices when it comes to marriage”, I hiss. “I am my own person and I have every right to make my own decisions”.
My cousin’s exasperation gradually melts into annoyance, her dark eyes glinting dangerously as though she’s getting ready to attack. I know she won’t though; the family members of our kingdom are too loyal to inflict harm on each other. “Not in the eyes of the royal court”, she snaps back. “Your marriage is not to be discussed, Syona. Either you pick a husband for yourself and your father will”.
“Indulging in a battle with the boys of the Bloodbath Kingdoms is better than being forced into a marriage”, I snarl. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish for nothing but a hole in the floor to swallow me up so I don’t have to witness the expression of horror unfurling on Yuri’s face, a glint of fear evident in her eyes.
Of course I don’t mean what I said but it’s too late; I can’t take it back now. Apologizing isn’t even on my mind at the moment, my rational thinking evaporated and replaced with roiling rage. As much as the fearful look in Yuri’s eyes pains me, being forcefully wedded off pains me even more.
“Syona-” She begins, but I hold up a hand and cut her off instantly and coldly.
“Don’t”, I bite out. “Don’t say anything, Yuri”.
Without another word, I pivot on the heel of my sneakers and stomp out of the castle, flipping the metal locks over with a mere flick of my wrist. The metal bends to my will, allowing the double doors to swing open as I march down the grand steps without a backward glance. Behind me, the doors slam shut due to an insignificant clench of my left fist, showcasing the amount of power brimming in me.
I trudge my way through the land for a long time, my head ducked against the chilly wind and my hands tucked deeply into the pockets of my leather jacket. My sneakers crunch on gravel, making random crackling noises as I wander deep into the woods without a particular destination in mind. I do this a lot, just walking and pondering in the privacy of my own head, relishing the rare alone time I always crave for. Back at the castle, everything is always hectic; royal duties to fulfil, responsibilities to bear, useless lectures on dining etiquette, endless discussion about unnecessary marriages and the whole works.
Here in the woods, it’s like an entirely different world. I’m as free as a bird, able to spread my wings for a short span of time without the worry of someone clipping them before I take off. Often, I would weave my way out of the Peace Kingdoms and linger near the boundary circling the perimeter of the Bloodbath Kingdoms as close as I dare to, unable to resist wondering about the hidden lives of the merciless beings.
In a way, I envy them. As brutal and cold-blooded as they may be, they still have the freedom to do what their hearts desire without worrying about nobles and queens and kings breathing their necks. They are free to wreak havoc on each other, tear their area of land to shreds if they feel like it and run wild like a pack of vicious dogs.
Today, I make my way to the edge of the line segregating the Peace and Bloodbath Kingdoms, peering deep into the decaying woods of the other side of Exotica. As always, the ever-present storm cloud lingers over the clustered kingdoms like a bad smell and I observe quietly as a mixture of purple and white lightning flashes through the sky threateningly. From my spot, I watch as Kim Jongdae of the Lightning Kingdom thrusts both hands out, his brow furrowing in concentration as he absorbs the electrical energy from his surroundings, relishing the sparks bleeding through his bones. As always, he pays me no attention, not even noticing my presence a few feet away from the boundary.
Ever since I was young, I’ve been warned to stay away from the Bloodbath Kingdoms. They’re animals, savages ready to tear anyone apart when the time comes for it. But I can’t help thinking that the nobles back at my own royal castle are no different; they’re savages themselves, willing to rip me up into shreds if I dare to disobey the rules of the royal court by refusing to get married.
A frown creases my forehead at the irony of it all; as much as the Metal Kingdom nobles insist on the downsides of the mysterious people on the opposite end of Exotica, the ruling leaders are no better themselves. I might not associate myself with the Bloodbath boys but I don’t shun them away either.
A sudden bolt of lightning crashes down against the gravel a few feet away from me, sending little rocks and pebbles flying through the air and I startle, torn out of my thoughts. With an upward glance, I catch Jongdae’s eye and he quirks up a smirk, tiny sparks blazing at the tip of his fingertips. Casually, he ambles in my direction, pausing before the line segregating the two kingdoms, a safe distance from me.
“What were you looking at, princess?” He remarks, bearing a leering sneer.
“Definitely not at you”, I say flatly, blowing a strand of silver hair out of my face. “Your lightning was pretty cool, though”.
If he’s flattered by a princess’s comment, he doesn’t show it. He eyes me from afar, sizing me up silently as his electric eyes travel down my form curiously. I look far from threatening, too tiny to scare outsiders off but I make up for it in my stubbornness, standing my ground firmly while looking him right in the eye challengingly.
A beat of silence passes between us, tension thick in the air. Neither of us have been in such close proximity with each other, two opposites from completely different kingdoms and we’re like predators feverishly accessing the situation, keeping an eye out for any evident threats. Jongdae parts his lips, ready to speak but a cheery call from behind him snaps us both out of our trances.
“There you are, Jongdae! I was wondering where you disappeared to”. A boy slightly taller than Jongdae manoeuvres his way through the woods easily, the bushes parting way for him to pass through and my stomach clenches at the sight of such a familiar display of power.
Bushes parting without a single touch. Telekinesis Kingdom.
Luhan’s doe-like face comes into view, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he claps his friend on the back. But that grin slowly melts away as soon as he follows Jongdae’s gaze, locking eyes with me. Deep in my pockets, my fingers curl up into tight fists, my ability surfacing in the pit of my stomach instinctively. To be in such close proximity with a member of the Bloodbath Kingdoms is nerve-wrecking enough, but two of them?
Yuri would have a coronary if she ever found out.
“Hey, Syona!” Luhan gives me a little wave as though we’re long-lost friends, the grin returning to his face. I narrow my eyes in response, suddenly recalling the times when he would shout acknowledgements at me whenever he caught sight of me as I wandered past the boundary.
“Hello”, I respond curtly.
“You look tensed. Are you okay?” Luhan asks, attempting to stifle a snigger and earning an elbow to the side by Jongdae who shoots him a knowing look.
I can practically feel my hackles rising at his dismissive remark, the urge to release the pent-up rage burning through me. But I control myself, keeping my hands safely tucked away in my pockets to prevent any unwanted explosions of steel knives from occurring.
Jongdae speaks before I can. “What he’s trying to say”, he interjects smoothly, “is that you look like you’re dying for a fight. Are you, Lady Syona?”
I sneer at both of them, finally withdrawing my hands from my pockets and stretching out my long fingers. The light of the sun illuminates the glinting blades that have replaced my fingernails, glittering threateningly. “I’m always ready for a fight”.
It’s obvious that they’re impressed. Exchanging a smile between each other, they nod at me. “So you say”, Jongdae muses aloud, the sparks returning to his fingertips. “But I doubt you’re as powerful as you claim to be, Princess. With all the dining etiquette you’ve been preoccupied with, I don’t think you have had much time to train. Perhaps you are an expert in utilizing the cutlery to stab your opponents, just like all girls are”.
Rage roils on in me at the blatantly sexist comment and my teeth clench together. While they’re preoccupied with their share of laughter, my quick eyes dart around in search of any scraps of metal I can make use of, and instantly my gaze rests on the tiny steel ear studs Luhan has on, twinkling beautifully in the glow of the afternoon sun. Mentally, I take note of this and proceed to scan Jongdae’s appearance for anything I can use against him.
The answer is obvious. Lightning and metal do not go well together and I can use this to my advantage to electrocute himself with his own ability later on. A tiny bit of my inner rage melts away and I don on my signature dazzling smile, the same smile I reserve for royal events and court meetings. The smile of a princess and a future queen.
“We’ll see”, I pipe up sweetly, striding forward and stepping over the boundary. I’ve set foot on Bloodbath lands and there’s no backing out now. Not that I want to. In fact, my veins are sizzling with adrenalin and anticipation in preparation for the long battle ahead, evident by the metal shards breaking through the tender skin of my knuckles.
The boyish laughter ceases immediately as soon as they realize that I’m in their territory now, their animal instincts coming into play. My skin prickles at the sudden drop in the temperature, the true coldness of the Bloodbath Kingdoms seeping into my bones. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I plant both feet firmly on the ground, eyeing the two boys.
“Rule number one”, Luhan announces, exchanging a look with Jongdae.
“It’s simple”, Jongdae adds. “Rule number one is that there are no rules in the first place. Understood, princess?”
I acknowledge this with a nod, my focus never wavering. And just like that, they charge towards me like bulls, not wasting any time as their abilities unleash themselves mercilessly.
A purple bolt of lightning slams against the ground a few feet away from where I’m standing, ugly cracks already seeping through the concrete ground like a poison. The electrical heat causes my skin to prickle as I break into a run, my silver hair flying out behind me like a warning flag and a million battle techniques run through my mind a mile per minute, mentally accessing them and weighing the pros and cons of each and every one of them.
I could hurl steel ninja stars at them but I’m not in the most comfortable position to do so, which could result in atrociously poor aim. As of now, my top priority is to get rid of Luhan, since he has the more unpredictable ability between the two of them. Taking a breath, I silently command a temporary metal shield over my head to protect myself against Jongdae’s lightning bolts while darting through the woods expertly, my little legs carrying me far. The best thing about being small is that you’re agile and swift, able to dodge any blows easily.
From behind, I can feel Jongdae’s electrical wrath but I ignore it for the moment. My shield can keep me safe from the worst of it so while I’m under the cover of it, my dark eyes frantically scan my surroundings for Luhan.
“Come and get me, Luhan!” I shout, my voice reverberating through the woods like a distant echo. While I wait for him to make his appearance, I channel all my concentration into absorbing any metal-associated energy. The power surges through me from head to toe as I sense metal piping running underground beneath my feet. Besides that, my heart palpates feverishly in time to an unseen steel wristwatch somewhere nearby.
A steel wristwatch. Steel earrings.
Luhan’s belongings.
I didn’t see him wearing a watch earlier on but I can sense it on him, which is a clear indication that he’s in the vicinity with me. With narrowed eyes, I flex my fingers in preparation for his appearance, enabling my beloved knives to materialize in my hands. Then like magic, a nearby boulder shoots through the air and towards me, growing larger in size as the distance between me and the levitating object shrinks. I face it head-on, smashing through it with my iron-coated fist and watch with devious satisfaction as it explodes into a million tiny pebbles, revealing Luhan perched on the branch of a nearby tree. Beads of sweat coat his forehead due to his full-blown concentration of sending the boulder my way and I use his moment of exhaustion to attack, utilizing the sharp pieces of aluminium adorning my leather jacket to slice through the branch he’s seated on.
As the branch breaks, Luhan falls with it. Thinking quick enough, he mentally commands a blanket of moss to break his fall, stray pieces of moss scattered all around darting across the forest floor and forming a small cushion like magic. If I had more time, I would admire the power of Telekinesis but I don’t have the luxury.
I race over to where Luhan’s sprawled on his moss cushion, preparing to pin him to the tree trunk with a few stray aluminium shards but he’s too fast. Without even him having to lift a finger, my entire body is flung across the forest floor like as though I’m just a mere piece of trash, and I land hard on my good arm. Inwardly, I curse the fact that Telekinesis Kingdom can move people with their mind and not just objects.
A distance away, a crackle of white lightning lights up the entire sky, an indication of Jongdae’s presence. Worry starts to eat at my heart; I’m getting tired and neither of them are eliminated from the battle yet, much to my chagrin. Ironically, I could take on six boys at one go back in the Peace Kingdoms but now, I can’t even handle two. Either I must be slackening in my ability or battling with them is a huge mistake.
“Hey princess! Get up!” Luhan yells from somewhere behind and my senses scream at me of his oncoming presence, warning me. His footsteps approach and I clench my fist, squeezing my eyes shut as I pour my energy into the presence of the wristwatch he’s wearing. The power of the steel floods my veins, curling up into a tight ball in the pit of my stomach and I cling onto it, building it up deep within me.
As my fingers uncurl themselves, so does the ball of power in me. It unfurls wildly like a blanket unravelling and within seconds, a deafening explosion from somewhere behind me reverberates throughout the woods, accompanied by Luhan’s audible scream. Upon turning around, I see his slender figure flung all the way across the forest, the watch he was wearing now scattered all over the floor. It had exploded on his wrist and the force of it had sent him spiralling backwards and judging from the traumatized expression on his face, plus the blood seeping down his arm, he’s obviously in agonizing shock.
Scrambling to my feet, I allow my gaze to rest on his glinting earrings. Thrusting out a hand, I watch as the steel studs start to vibrate vigorously against the skin of his earlobes, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Blood starts to trickle down his neck as I force his earrings into providing the agony he deserves and he grits his teeth, pushing himself up on one elbow.
With a weak flick of his wrist, I’m knocked clean off my feet, instantly losing my hold over him. Taking my moment of vulnerability as an opportunity to flee, Luhan scrambles to his feet but I chase after him, aiming a blade in his direction. It slices through the air, catching him by the sleeve of his shirt and pinning him to a nearby tree trunk with astonishing accuracy. Spurred on, I aim a second blade at him, pinning his other arm to the trunk as well and he emits a string of curses, obviously unhappy with his defeat.
I would stay and slaughter him but I’m not that type of person. Plus, I still have Jongdae to take care of so I pivot on my heel and take off into the woods, my arm still throbbing from my earlier fall. An abrupt explosion of electricity knocks me off my feet again and Jongdae spirals into the clearing, his trademark Chesire-like grin tugging at his lips. Bright violet sparks coat his arms, illuminating his mischievous expression as he ambles up to me casually, snickering as he does so.
“I’m surprised, Princess”. He clucks his tongue thoughtfully, lazily flicking a few stray sparks into the air. “You’re a survivor”.
Indignantly, I toss my silver hair out of my eyes and carefully get to my feet, my stony gaze never straying from Jongdae’s relaxed stance. “Survival isn’t a race”, I remark, “it’s a dance”.
He chuckles, tossing his head back as he indulges in his hearty laughter. Then, without warning, he hurls a sizzling bolt my way, the electricity singeing through the air violently. Thank god I have quick reflexes; with all my strength, I pull my iron-clad fist back and send the bolt ricocheting back towards him, the sparks screaming against the metal surface of my fist as it’s reflected sharply.
The woods explode with a burst of purple, white and silver as metal and lightning fight tooth and nail, stopping at nothing to prove which ability is more lethal. Up above, the black storm clouds gather in, blotting out the sunlight and hindering our visions. Jongdae twists his lightning into a whip, cracking it through the air expertly with a few thrusts of his slender hands and I dodge them easily, dancing on the soles of my feet.
Deep down, I call on the familiar surge of metallic energy, feeling it bleed through my veins like water. I reach out for the comforts of the steel pipes running underground, a few metres beneath our feet and bend them to my will. The screeching of the metal sings throughout the air and with a few flicks of my fingers, the pipes explode from the ground, sending Jongdae spiralling across the forest floor. The storm clouds plunge into a frenzy, lost without their commander.
I’m swept up in a tidal wave of rage, thinking of nothing but winning this battle. Mustering up what’s left of my energy, I work my magic on the gigantic pipes, thrusting out my hands and twisting them around Jongdae’s legs to prevent him from getting to his feet. Over the screaming metal, I hear him emit a few curses like how Luhan did earlier on when I pinned him to the tree. I hardly notice, just dancing to the beat of my own drum as I push my ability to the max, the clanking and groaning of the pipes music to my ears.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luhan run onto the scene, his mouth hanging open as he watches his friend receive the brunt of my ability, stuck on the ground with a mangled pipe binding his legs together. Grinning now, I turn my attention to the Telekinesis boy and he raises both hands in surrender, gazing at me with pleading eyes.
Dried blood sticks to his arm where his wristwatch exploded earlier on. Up above, the storm clouds dissipate into nothing, allowing the sunlight to break through once again. Shooting a glance at Jongdae on the ground, I release my hold on the pipes, giving him the chance to roll onto his front, groaning loudly as he does so.
“Great battle”, I chirp to neither of them in particular, sliding my hands back into the pockets of my leather jacket. A quick glance at my surroundings tells me that the area is in complete shambles and a stab of pride glows within me; I caused this mess, I wrecked this damn place, I whipped the asses of these two guys.
Pivoting on my heel, I stalk off through the destroyed woods without a backwards glance. But the sound of hurried footsteps halt me right in my tracks and I turn around to see Luhan scurrying after me, a smile ghosting his face.
“Wait, Syona”, he says softly, peering down at me from his great height. Once he realizes that he has my full attention, he clears his throat. “You fight good”, he proffers, reaching forward and placing a tentative hand on my shoulder.
I roll my eyes, flicking his hand off me dismissively. “For your information, I’m also good at utilizing my cutleries. So you might want to be on your guard the next time the king and queen invite the kingdoms over to the grand castle, because every piece of cutlery there is made of stainless steel”.
Luhan chuckles at that, but the laughter dies down as soon as he catches sight of my stony expression. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he bows his head. “You should come over and train with us more often in the future”.
“Maybe”, I say curtly. “I’ll pop by when I’m in the mood to thrash one of your people”.
I don’t stick around for small conversation, so I turn my back on him and march back over the boundary. Back to the Peace Kingdoms. Back to my castle. And back to reality.
221 notes · View notes