[Jackie Maradona]

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[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ In a world full of supernatural gifts, only a select few were granted the opportunity to realize the scenery their quirks could show them. Those who could traverse the depths of the ocean, those who could see firsthand the Earth's magma, those who could dwell in the frigid Arctic without as much as even a coat — unique to each were realms waiting to be embraced as their own. But there, beyond the bestowed, lay a spectacle further honed by specificity; for, ahead of each individual's abilities, there stirred a passion more indicative of belonging than natural aptitude. What may seem to be clear compatibility — the sea-dwellers and the waves, the fire borne and the torrid, the unfreezing and the icebergs — was no more than theoretical play. Without the passion to match, there dwelt no opportunity to indulge in one's perspective any more than mundanity. Leaving home was never an easy choice. To trek out into the world beyond the familiar, where there waited no guarantee of welcoming arms, would be difficult for any; for the vigilante, in specific, the shift in cultural familiarities was a burden she'd yet overcome. The boisterous crowds and amenable locals were all she'd known, and the silent air of "obedience" that hung over Japan stabbed at her lungs every time she breathed it in. It was a frigid, unforgiving poison, one uninterested in the wellbeing of those it tainted; like a plague, it stole the lives of whatever it touched. It stole the individuality away from those it infected. The vigilante couldn't bear it. But, despite her misgivings, there shown before her was the result of such a machine-like philosophy: sprawled out before her, illuminated in the efforts of those long forgotten, was a metropolis that never truly fell asleep, basking the populace in its neon colors and modernistic appeal. Though she'd known a similar scene of a city that never rested — she was from Buenos Aires, after all — the air between the two differed; she would call hers an intoxicating aroma, like a well-done steak, meant to be shared with even the strangers by your side. As she sat there along the ledge, with her legs left out over the city, she couldn't help but ponder her own scenery. Through her own backward methodology, the skies had become a place just as accessible to her as the earth was, thus granting her the space to explore further beyond most others. She still didn't understand, though. What was with this country — this planet, even — and their obsessive glorification of heroes? Was it a lack of ability that led to the notion? Did they latch onto their idols because they couldn't grasp such peaks themselves? But even more so than others, the vigilante confounded herself. Her presence in Japan had been born of curiosity, a desire to witness the ramifications of hero society in the flesh — but to travel half the globe for that end? It seemed excessive, even to her, but the interest wasn't one to be silent. She'd argue the instinct to be more troublesome than her quirk. "Sure talkin' a lotta shit 'bout the one who saved yer ass." The vigilante's attire, though mostly intact, was ripped and marred at various points; a few loose wires hung from her cloak, and even the shifting of its nanomachines could be seen in particular spots. Tonight had proven its troublesome worth to her, but she supposed it wasn't the worst of her encounters. "Sorry, Pundit." Adjusting the collar of her cloak, the Argentine continued to look down at the city beneath her. "I ju't can't fi'ure it out." "Why people like heroes so much," the quirk responded, "or why yer so turned tryin' to figure it out?" Pundit, who sat at the vigilante's side, held little more answers than she did. Though all of her thoughts were known to the creature, it wasn't gifted the additional insight into the nature of such ideas; if anything, it had even less to go off of than its own arbitrary judgment. "Both." Neither question held a decisive answer. Though she could postulate endlessly on the case of the former, the latter regard for herself remained too obscured to remedy. "I thought being here for a few shears would give me a defi'itive answer, but it's all so subjective to everyone." "Can't 'splain the subjectivity for each person and get it to mean anythin' for the whole, eh?" "Mm." ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 471 words ※ Midnight Thought Time!

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[Hoshino Tamaki]

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She is never free until gravity loses its hold over her, never truly free until she's able to lose these scales and speak. However, life will only provide her the pleasure of indulging in one, wings woven from moonlight granting her a chance to rake her existence over the sky and find her place amidst the stars. And serenity is found in the rhythmic flapping as the earth dares to compete against the brilliance of the heavens above, street lights and city signs all clamouring for her attention -[break][break]

A strangely sickening slurry of darkened shapes and iridescent colours.[break][break]

And yet, it is solitude that catches her eye, a lone figure that sits in lofty places that others would never think to reach. They talk to themselves, or perhaps, that little round thing that sits by their side. And while manners might say that eavesdropping is rude, what she does probably wouldn't count as such given just how visible she is as she swoops down to land.[break][break]

Sharp talons click against the ground, the impact of her landing offset by the hefty gusts of wind that her wings stir up. Not quite strong enough to push anyone off a building ledge, but still able to instill a sense of dread in the unprepared. Silence draws out with the way she straightens up to her full height, sharp features glinting just like the stars that decorate the night sky.[break][break]

"Rather strange place to be at this time of night, isn't it? Fancy the view?"

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Jackie Maradona

made by gimmick

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[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ A celestial beauty, descent from the magnific stars dotting the heavens above, now descended upon the quiet solitary the Argentine had built for herself, looking upon a blemished visage in their god-like presence. Certainly, beyond the realm Grinta sat, there prowled before her a being whose vision differed from her own — did it see beyond hers, she wondered? Was the world, from the vantage point it sat, so much wider than her own was? Surely, the capacity to go beyond one's humanity must have been its own lens from which to look upon everything one had ever known, and to see it in a manner befitting their gifts and purview. She wondered if it was a view she could understand. Though the gusts held not the strength to push her or her accomplice from the ledge, the Argentine still choose to grip the stone, standing her ground regardless of the new presence. A domineering one, given the prestige they emboldened in themselves, that Grinta looked upon from behind her mask; in half of it, with her semi-turned posture, there reflected the fluorescent lights of the city below, whilst the other remained unfettered in their mirroring of the sight of the dragon. "Mm... Fancy the di'tance." From the city, from the people — really, the view was of secondary interest; more importantly to her, a perch such as this was one seldom disturbed, and one that most wouldn't think to bother her. Not without being of such similar oddity as she, anyway. "I'm guessing shou fancy the view, Mr. Dragon?" Ever the tease, Grinta returned her gaze back to the city beneath her, dangling her feet out over the open streets. She wasn't sure what business the interloper held, and whether she held a place in those ideations, so she chose the path of observation. She'd rather not find herself in more peril than necessary, and as such, held firm in her laxity. She would not cower in terror, but prod at the reasons that brought her and the dragon to pass with one another. Perhaps they even held an answer to her question. "But I don't see shou fancying the view enough to come down for it. Cu'ious, I'm guessing?" It was an odd spot for one to be in, after all. Though most wouldn't pay her the mind of looking up and seeing her there, those with a view such as theirs were sure to find intrigue in others of similar ilk. Perhaps they, too, wanted to find someone who understood the world as they did, someone who looked upon the streets below and saw the same image as they did. "I'm cu'ious too; cu'ious about a lot of things, really, and shou've 'tolen a prio'ity 'pot on that list. Fine with that?" ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 463 words ※ Oh Mr. Dragon, What Do You See?

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[Hoshino Tamaki]

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Mr Dragon is far from the strangest thing she's been called and so it slides past unnoticed, her gaze slowly peeled from the figure to the sights as her tail sweeps the ground. Then and only then does she allow herself to rest, perching quietly as she listens to the stranger ramble on.[break][break]

Curiosity? A drive that's most often than not the cause of downfalls. Though she suspects that this one will be a little more wary in where they tread as they pursue the truth. A silent break will leave her with an opening question, though it's of a star's wish to know of earthly ails, rather than burn bright with mundane stories that are spoken of each night.[break][break]

"What answers does this world deny you?"

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Jackie Maradona

made by gimmick

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[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ Was it the world that denied Grinta her answers? The world was known for operating in many strange ways — and oftentimes, hiding its even stranger antics under the veil of obscurity — but it didn't withhold answers from the vigilante. If anything, the world was all too eager to provide her answers; from talk-shows, to magazines, to the people she passed on the street, most everyone seemed to hold heroes on that same pedestal. There were few who, like herself, questioned this standard, but not ones capable of bringing this concern to the forefront of thought. It drove her mad. Why did so few see the world as she did? Why did they accept this status quo so fervently, as though the world were on the brink of chaos? Though the advent of quirks had brought with it a pandemic of disarray, the potential utility for the greater society was yet fully tapped; many, who could bring forth something from nothing, lived in this world, wasting away! Perhaps, then, the notion lay not in the reality of heroes, but in the fantastical notion of the modern "villain." "...The truth, I suppo'e." Leaning back from the ledge, with her arms supporting her weight, the masked vigilante drifted an upside-down gaze toward Mr. Dragon, looking for signs of understanding in their eyes. She didn't doubt their intelligence; rather, she hoped to see it as being of the same inclinations as herself. "I try to under'tand others, I rea''y do — but I don't think a'yone is truthful with me." "Not that they try to lie," she'd laugh, righting herself and her posture, "but that I don't think they rea'ize why they be'ieve what they do." She didn't believe everyone to be a liar — this wasn't a time of secret police, as far as she understood — but they were all infected by this ideology. As generations were to pass, the reinforced idea of "heroes being good" and "villains being bad" would only continue to perpetuate, and not much further would deviation from this be considered entirely alien; when that time came, how many would be left to challenge it? "Do shou ever wonder if e'eryone's convinced themselves of a lie? Not all the same one, mind shou–" she'd reach a hand into her hood, scratching the back of her neck– "but that e'eryone has a lie they be'ieve in?" She wondered if she, too, had convinced herself of one — perhaps her dreams, the one she'd dedicated her life towards, was its own breed. If that were true, and she accepted it to be, then what would she be left with? Maybe it was the same for the people who'd bought into this world's systems. "Sorry," she'd start out of nowhere, twisting her gaze back to the dragon, "I talk a lot. Per'aps more than I should." She'd shift her legs from the ledge, facing her full body toward the other person — the first time she'd done so since their arrival. "Rude of me to not ask shou what shour bu'iness is while I ramble on, shes? What brings shou to me at such a time, I wonder?" ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 522 words ※ Mutter mutter mutter...

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[Hoshino Tamaki]

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The truth... Of course, the one that muses under the moonlight seeks something so vague and illusive. She'd be lying if she thinks she hasn't done so in the past either.[break][break]

"Sometimes, a lie that does more good than harm is what's needed to keep their flame alight." Is all that she offers, having yet ascertained what lie they so refer to. And she'll brush aside the prying questions, looking up to the stars for a fleeting moment before casting her gaze upon the woman.[break][break]

"Tell me then, what do you believe to be the greatest lie?"

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Jackie Maradona

made by gimmick

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[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ If it had been another night, perchance, Grinta would have let things slide. To have all attempts to understand her interlocutor would have been one thing; plenty of people dodged questions within polite conversation, avoiding conflict lest they wish to declare war. But in the case of the dragon — a picturesque identity, as though they'd slithered straight off the page — now stood before her, prying into her innermost thoughts and feelings without even addressing themselves. To have such absurdity take place after a night as hellish as hers was not something she would stand. Rather, as she turned to focus her gaze on the dragon, the display of her digital expression now flashed with comical veins and a particularly unenthused smile. It was an ironic scene. After having ranted on and on about the nature of truth and those that subverted it, Grinta now found her opposite taking to that very same well, hiding away behind the veneer of a prestigious form that commanded power. Was that not the same thing she found amongst the rest of the lies — spread intentionally or otherwise — in this place? Was this pursuit limited to understanding the nameless masses? "Look," she began, "Mr. Dragon, I appre'iate shour compa'y and all, but can shou take a sec and plea'e say something about shourself in'tead of prying at me? Please?" She wasn't after their true identity, or even necessarily what led them to her presence this night — though, Grinta would admit to still being curious on that front — but rather, anything more beyond empty platitudes and philosophical waxings. She'd like an answer to something, anything, that wasn't vague inanity or a question in place of a response. She wanted something concrete, something she could latch onto and examine as a matter of fact, not as mere speculation. Grinta didn't want her attention on the rest of the voiceless world, either; she wanted to escape that view below the skies, to see what the pinnacles of mankind saw beyond the rest, to take in that breathtaking horizon that stood above it all. The one she'd met this evening was one such person, and the vigilante wanted to peer into what brought their meeting this night — she didn't want to be dissected of her earthly ailments. "For 'tarters, do shou have something I can call shou other than 'Mr. Dragon?' Seems insulting to me — like if shou kept calling me 'Ms. Human" or something 'tupid like that." With a sigh, she'd turn her sights away from the other vigilante, though her view didn't fall back to the city below. Rather, it rested at the point atop one of the nearby skyscrapers, as if to look at the least number of things as possile. "I don't want to talk to keep talking about the re't of the world right now." ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 469 words ※ Talk The Talk

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Hoshino Tamaki]

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Ah, how boldly they demand things of her, equivalent exchange for all the words she must have spoken.[break][break]

"Forgive me. It isn't too often that I get to see interesting people like you." She'll chuckle softly, her wings rustling against one another as she readjusts herself. " Dragon, creature, monster... I have no real care for what I might be called. But you may call me Cepheid, if you insist."[break][break]

Her tail idly flicks about, sweeping over her front claw as she contemplates whether keeping this form would be best.[break][break]

"And what about you?"

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Jackie Maradona

made by gimmick

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[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ The two were the same in that regard; when presented with someone peculiar — another person who, despite their differing circumstances, descended in the same spot they had — they sought to understand this other. Not often did they find someone of the same ilk as themselves. Though, more than Grinta realized in this instance, vigilantes were a divided group, whose uniting characteristics lay in their lack thereof. Their ideals, their motives, and their actions didn't work towards the same objective — oftentimes, they were servants to their personal agendas before anything else. Though, unlike the managed chaos of both heroes and villains, no one wrangled vigilantes into a cohesive front. It was a lonely role to take. Grinta, beneath her mask, mouthed the name to herself. "Cepheid," was it? It was, humorously, about what she had expected from a dragon. It was a name — no doubt a pseudonym — that screamed for the decadence of a mythological beast, loudly proclaiming its bearer as something unlike the rest of the world — as something above the rest of the world. It was a powerful name, Grinta thought, that radiated the same poise as their draconic form; she couldn't hope to imagine a better one. It was all the more reason for her to be curious of her company. And, thankfully, they seem amused by her requests, a better fate than having the dragon snap at her. "I'm Grinta," she responded with a breath, her gaze still fixated on the skyscraper in the distance. "Don't know if I would call my'elf 'intere'ting,' though; I'm guessing shou don't know many interesting people?" Not like Cepheid, anyway. No, they seemed much more deserving of such adulation than she did. At the very least, they seemed to be holding themselves together better than she could — she couldn't imagine they struggled much in that regard. "I don't know if I would call someone who's alwash 'truggling 'intere'ting.' Maybe that's ju't me, but I'd pro'ably think up a number of diffe'ent words first." It was hard to be "enough" in a world of god-like entities. Grinta couldn't imagine herself as ever reaching that same realm of godhood, nor could she see herself finding a solution to match their god-given abilities; she was just like the many people she didn't understand. Like them, she wasn't destined to take on this calling, nor was she ever intended to. Like the rest, she had been told to put that part of herself away, to stuff it in a box and suffer alone away from everyone's sight, yet, those like her didn't want things to change. Or rather, did they fear the wrath of matching the powerful? She supposed she couldn't blame them for that. But here she was, regardless of innate ability, now sat before someone who did seem blessed with that power. "What would me intere'ting, shou think?" ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 475 words ※ "Interesting," eh?

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Hoshino Tamaki]

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"Grinta... What does that stand for?"[break][break]

She is well-read but unfortunately, not entirely in the linguistics department. In a meeting transient as the crossing of stars, she will not pretend to understand the meaning behind such a name, nor whether it has meaning to begin with.[break][break]

"I have come across several, but no one can remain interesting forever. At least, not whilst they live stable and stagnant lives." Cocking her head, she finds herself wondering if they require a quick patching up. "You don't need me to tell you that struggles are a part of life. But at the same time, struggles are what can bring about the most curious cases of metamorphosis."[break][break]

Steady as she goes, she doesn't tell. She invites.[break][break]

"Do you not find it interesting, just thinking about what might become of you if you undergo such a metamorphosis of your own?"

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Jackie Maradona

made by gimmick

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[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ How silly it was, comparatively to the dragon, to have her name be a source of confusion. She hadn't a clue as to what the dragon's namesake stemmed from — nor what brought along the correlation — but, even without context, it resounded as an angelic title suited to their demeanor. The name "Grinta," by contrast, was nowhere near as epochal in its utterance. While the dragon's alias rolled off the tongue like a dewdrop off a blade of grass, fleeting its enunciation and gone before dawn — yet with the craving to hear it again — "Grinta" was a hard, definitive word with little left to the imagination. The Argentine uttered the word with the full cadence of its contents, consonants plunging their sounds into minds while, if just a tad, her instinct gave her "r" another roll — a word that she, as a younger woman, decided its importance as the idea she could not live without. Did Cepheid have to take such thought when it came to their identity? Or had they, from the moment of their growth into this being, known what name would resound as theirs? The dragon's words washed over her. Though her gaze remained fixed long in the distance, her place could only be described as beside the armored goliath. Their words intrigued, tugging the vigilante away from what gripped her, yet Grinta's gaze didn't waver from the distant sight. "A me'amorpho'is, eh?" The words fell off her tongue in a low tone, her neck wincing at the word it forced out. Rubbing a hand against her throat — her bracer emerging from her cloak, smearing a dulled red along her suit — she choked out a laugh. "I didn't come up with 'Grinta,'" she began, "it's ju't a word that's alwash been a'ound me." Football had always been the world she returned to, long before she'd ever set herself on this path. Once the ball was in play, all the players on the field — all 22 of them — were considered of equal standing by the laws of the game. Though they excelled in different aspects, all those who stood on the world stage had proven themselves to be of worth — to be of such exceptional ability deserving recognition, regardless of their specific talents. "It's an Ita'ian word we borrow back 'ome." A word cheered again and again by her family, with a young girl staring starry-eyed at the word's magic. "It means 'grit.'" "But," she'd continue, looking down to her hand and the remains of conflict. Flaky, hardened — the brittle dust of blood. "It's a 'ard thing to 'ave. I'm 'anging on for dear life, trying to make things work — but loo' at me, Cepheid. I'm not like shou. I don't think I can e'er be as impo'ing as shou, or e'en 'old a candle to shour... I suppose 'maje'ty' is the word I'm looking for." "If I changed so dra'tically–" she traced her right, unstained hand along the ledge, passing by her familiar– "if I went through a 'me'amorpho'is' as shou sugge't, the re'ult wouldn't be something as beau'iful as shou are. Inte'e'ting a' it might be, I can only ima'ine the re'ult to be something mon'trously 'ideous." ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 530 words ※ Metamorphosis

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MADE BY MIZO

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[Hoshino Tamaki]

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"Grit... a wonderful ideal."[break][break]

Basic, but more than enough to give people strength.[break][break]

"Do you not believe that 'grit' could carry you through the metamorphosis? Just like how a caterpillar holds onto 'survival' throughout their entire journey." She takes heed of the blood with a sweeping gaze, leathery wings flexing as she begins to move. "I am not as majestic as you think me to be. I merely change myself to be something other than me, just for a brief moment."[break][break]

Starlight is her very existence, scales shorn off in a swirl of cosmic dust. And out of the draconic remains of glitter and glamour, comes a mere kit - A lynx yet to grow into a fearsome predator.[break][break]

"Are you not interested in exploring those faucets? Understanding what is you, what isn't you and just what you could be?" Slinking up to the woman, she purrs and extends a paw for her to take. "I find myself rather enamoured with the idea of exploring that with you."

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Jackie Maradona

made by gimmick

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[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ The twisting of stardust, a spiraling cosmos born from the beast of legend, resounded upon the digital mask, mirroring the sight of the scene as its majesty descended upon it. Grinta stared at the sight, flicking her chin away from the distance and into what lay right before her. And from it born, through their words of curiosity, the form of a cat, prancing along the way and down to her level. Where they had once loomed over her in their entirety, they were now surely no more the size of her familiar. Pundit, who still sat alongside their creator, leered its gaze at the kit, though, as it sat on the opposite side, it chose to remain still. Cepheid raised their paw, and to it, the opposite vigilante considered. Her hand still sat outside her cloak, and for a moment, Grinta even lifted it. But she hesitated as she did. At the outstretched paw, in a moment of thought, she pulled her hand away from the cat, retreating with it — including the rest of their form — into their cloak's embrace, wiry and damaged on the outside. She looked away. "...It's not that I couldn't make it through the tran'forma'ion," she corrected, "but that thi' 'grit' would mean I could. I could with'tand it, and I could become wha'ever comes out the other si'e — but I don't tru't who thi' person would be. What would emerge from that cocoon, to use your words, wouldn't be something I could ever condone, someone I couldn't ever condone." "But at the same time," she sighed, "if I try to go backward from whe'e I am now, I won't be able to live with my'elf. All of my efforts would burn up in smoke, all I've tried to 'tand for would crumble, and my whole world would shatter — but wor't of all, whi'e everything falls apart a'ound me, I'd 'till 'ave to carry all of the'e sins with me. All of the'e things I do, that I live with — it's ab'orrent." She'd bring her legs up from off the ledge, crossing them beneath her cloak alongside the rest of her form. Now, only her head remained exposed, peeking out from the hood worn beneath her cap and staring from behind that illuminated mask. "I under'tand my'elf well enough to know I can be tempted. Every 'tep I take needs to be made with the ca'eful precaution that, if I lo'e my'elf, I mu't not be in a posi'ion of command or authori'y above anyone else. I, alone, cannot make the call of right and wrong, of good and evil, or of ju't and unju't, even if I feel I 'ave every reason to ju'tify myself; but if I let that change turn me into something new, I may become the de'pot I 'ate the mo't." ✉ tag -- Hoshino Tamaki ✎ 472 words ※ The Paths of Burial or Despotism

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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