[Callisto Tengoku]

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[attr="class","iwbtr-ly-1"]was i born to be

[attr="class","iwbtr-ly-2"]more?

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Push, jump, climb. Scratch, woosh, clap. Wind rushes past, the air kissed skin and fabric. Eyes scan over an illuminated city; the night was coming soon. The current dusk resided wearily, resting over the bay — a crocus sky — while the streets bared themselves of people. People wouldn't want to be here, either at this place or this time, for it had become the den of the sea.

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Callisto's feet ground to a halt atop one of the lower-hung rooftops. His lower face was hidden beneath a black cloth, but his eyes glimmered behind a sparkling — hardly so, in the few lights still lit, but enough to be known — mask of gold and cobalt. As he stepped through the looming darkness, the surrounding buildings lit his hood in its display; golden, twisting spirals clung to a black, woolen canvas, moving from the crown, across the neck, and further down to his hip.

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His joggers billowed in the rushing wind as he leaped up to another rooftop. From one to the next, he kept going, rushing along the coastline with brief glints of light shining underfoot. Maybe hungrily, his eyes looked down to the streets he was rushing alongside; it wasn't the first time he'd been here on this day. Though it had previously jumped him out of the blue, the seas challenged him further to a challenge. While it dwelled in silence for a time — the waters faintly brushing against the shore — Cal tempted it to erupt, to come at him when his back wasn't turned.

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It wasn't personal. Not in that way, anyway. The sealife before were dealt with, and pursuing revenge on a whole, unrelated sect of creatures didn't make any sense; it was entirely impersonal. And because it was impersonal — because these creatures, for the extent that they existed, weren't people — he could do it without conflict. Unlike with people, he didn't need to fear the repercussions of going too far; in fact, he imagined the people of Japan would appreciate his efforts if they knew them to exist. Their praise didn't matter to him, though.

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As of late, Callisto's power felt different. Stronger, more potent — and something about it, when the shock moved through his skin, tingled differently. Denser, more pointed, like points inside a fractal that moved further down into and out of his body. His chest, too, felt fuller of energy, coursing with a louder buzz when his heart started racing. It coursed through him when he moved his body, even when he didn't let it out; when it was imbued into himself, the flicker of energy at its most potent was a flash of lightning.

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"Right now," he murmured to himself, "my output will probably remain efficient." Looking down to his hand, he clenched and uncurled it. He repeated it a few times. "Against surfaces like glass, pushing might shatter my footing... The same probably goes for already unstable surfaces."

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As he landed on another rooftop, Laoro traced his palm along the ledge. He idled for a moment, stepping without haste as he passed along this building. "But if I keep improving it at this rate, it might become a problem... Then again, I probably won't need that much force most of the time, especially not for moving. If my generation and supply don't plateau, then it should just make my current uses easier..."

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Negative Charge

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Shion Utsui

[attr="class","iwbtr-credit"]SELKIE

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[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 [Now Playing: My Little Lullaby] The orange sky was no longer in its prime, a cool blue beginning to overtake the brighter shades which was hiding the moon and stars. Those same lights weren't too dissimilar from the ones beginning to show through the windows of skyscrapers and condos of Toyko, which were like massive pillars when compared to the small police box they surrounded. It was here, where Shion was being forced to say farewell to a lost child. "Your mom will come soon! So don't cry, okay?" Despite his attempt at showing gentleness, "Dorothy" received no response from the child who was sitting on the floor, their face buried into their knees as they refused to look up at all. He was probably no older than 7 or 8, quite far from the time where you're supposed to be independent. With a yellow t-shirt, his overalls were stained in fishy water and mud, causing a bit of a stink to fill up the small room. "Poor fella must be sad that you're leaving." Shion would hear the policeman's voice interrupt the monotonous hum of the fluorescent light, making him finally relent to the fact that there wasn't much he could do to console the child in question. The youth himself wasn't looking too pretty either. Despite the frilly costume form-fitted to his body, no amount of design choice could cover up all the red stains of fish blood he had earned in the prior fight. in fact, his stench was arguably worse. "It can't be helped- I can't stay here longer than I already have." Fingers ran through pink hair to sieve out any pebbles and bits of dirt that had crusted into the silky strands, as Shion stood up to exchange some last few words with the policeman, who appeared to be a mutant human no taller than 3 feet in height. He rested in a chair, sipping on a canteen through his thick mossy beard while his legs didn't even reach the ground. "Well, I'll watch after em' well enough. Just gotta pretend he's on o' my nephews." Shion leaned in to whisper. "What if she doesn't come?" The officer stopped to think for a second, before replying in a similarly low tone.  "Off to tha nearest shelter, then. Might find er' there." He couldn't help but give the child behind him a glance, concerned that the promises he made while rescuing them wouldn't be fulfilled. "I understand. Thank you for your help." The shoddy door to the police box opened, with Shion stepping out to grab his companion that had been laid outside to prevent the child from being any more disconcerted by what he sees. It was no offense towards Toto, but his appearance to most wasn't a welcoming one. In the next moment, they were both in the sky, heading down the fish-covered roads towards the coast to see if there were any surviving people that were in need of urgent help. "It's different." Shion muttered while staring straight ahead, taking note of how the vibrant nightlife of a year ago was nowhere to be seen. Toto as always, made no response to their companion's utterings. "Toto. . . Was the ocean always this loud?" With no sound of moving cars, chattering people, loud cargo ships, and blaring music- the sight before him was far from the vibrant one he saw in the "beginning". That yacht party before he met anyone. . . special. In the same sea where that pleasure boat had once sailed, there lurked something darker than the decadence of that night months ago. Callisto Tengoku

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