[Sonya Chernovna]

Even if i become There were busy days for Ishtar, the self-styled White Queen. Days where villains would reach out asking for all manner of favors. A few rocket launchers here, some hand grenades there, sometimes she had to ship out a lawyer from an 'anonymous benefactor' to get a particularly unlucky fellow out of a lengthy prison sentence. Then there were slow days, days she had set aside to assume the persona but found herself mired in boredom. So instead of going back to ASTA HQ and doing something productive, she avoided work even more. After all, who wanted to work on a beautiful day like- The rain came about an hour into her lounging on one of the warehouses she owned on the dock, ruining her mood. Her lips twisted into a frown beneath the mask as stormy clouds rushed in from a strong wind, dousing the port in water from above. The only exception was the small area around herself, where the water began to turn to ice and then snow. The glow of her skin intensifying as her mood deepend. She grumbled. Now she was bored and soaked from rain! Ugh! She rolled onto her side, glowering at her phone and wishing someone would call and make her day busy. That was when a low thud from below caught her attention, the sound of fighting? She disabled her quirk, the glow fading, and strode to the side. Looking down to see what the ruckus was about... the devil himself Callisto Tengoku words notes

made by eden @ gs and thq

[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Old+Standard+TT:400,400i,700]

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

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

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Given the choice between an eventful or a banal day, Callisto would have preferred to awake to the latter; assuming, of course, he ever held a say in that regard. But no, more often than not, the hired goon held no notion of what was to befall him on the day-to-day, nor a say in how it would do so. He would admit that half the fun was this inherent fickleness, twists of fate that offered the Venetian flavor to his otherwise mundane work — more so than any office job could, he had the brutal truths of reality to contend with.

[break][break]

On this occasion, Callisto was left with some C-list hero still desperate to earn their place in the limelight. They were a plentiful type of person to be found — a bunch whose exploits were menial at best, yet still convinced themselves of their impending success — that latched upon every opportunity to have the world look upon them, regardless of the consequentiality of their deeds.

[break][break]

Callisto had simply been unfortunate enough to stray into such a hero's path with a sack full of some... less-than-legal goods. Not in the effort to sell, per se, but rather a return trip from his buyer; Callisto, in his line of profession, needed to be in regular supply of his clientele's preferred purchases, and doing so often required the extended effort of crossing town himself.

[break][break]

The C-lister hadn't caught him with his narcotics, though. Or, at the very least, their presence hadn't been the catalyst behind the attacks now thrown in the alleyway, let alone Callisto's participation in these events. Rather, in his truly boundless wisdom and patience, the hired goon had readily mocked the hero in his lack of relevancy; on every front possible, with every breath taken, Callisto derided the man and his achievements — or, lack thereof. From his "gimmick" to the cape he wore on his back, Callisto made it clear just how amusing he found him.

[break][break]

Granted, the ruined mundanity of his work was entirely to blame upon Callisto, who'd readily instigated the encounter. He'd known it to be a foolish errand, one that would undoubtedly deter his personal agenda — but he couldn't help himself. Or, rather, he held himself to a standard of speaking the truth wherever he could find the opportunity. He'd thought that someone so pathetic, so inconsequential, would simply take his ridicule without making an effort to silence, or to simply brush off his comments as a part of his career path.

[break][break]

Instead, the hero lashed out.

[break][break]

With a blow plowing through the side of the alley's wall, a plume of dust kicked up into the dampened air before falling back to the puddles pooling at their feet, mixing in as a dull gray. Callisto had managed to duck beneath the blow, slipping out from his impact before slamming his fist into the man's side. Perhaps it was unusual to openly taunt a professional hero, and even more so for a hero to respond with violence, but truly the most unexpected factor in this situation was the willingness of a so-called civilian to trade blows in the pouring rain with someone licensed to handle criminals.

[break][break]

"C'mon, c'mon — don't have any more tricks behind that cape or in your overexposed crotch?" Jeering on his opponent, Callisto tried to shove another fist into the C-lister's stomach. "Real waste of fabric down there; packing to try to show off, you freaky fuck?"

[break][break][break][break]

3/30 Charges

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Sonya Chernovna

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

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[Sonya Chernovna]

Even if i become Ishtar watched the fight in silence. The C-Lister hero, Brakken, was a hand to hand fighter with a unique quirk that allowed him to regenerate and heal as long as he was touching certain materials. He essentially integrated them into his body and restored what was damaged or missing. Useful, expecially since concrete was one of those materials. Yet the quirk depended on his reaction time, and of course, him being alive to use it. Ishtar watched the young ne'er-do-well thrash about with the hero, she wondered what on earth he'd been up to. Judging by his fighting style he was at least moderately competent, and his style of smack talk was fairly decent. He could use it well to get under certain self-conscious hero's skin. Sonya huffed out a breath through her respirator and tilted her head. Bare knuckle brawling, in this day and age? She raised her right hand and pointed her finger at the hero. Then hesitated, no, let's see where this goes... the devil himself Callisto Tengoku

made by eden @ gs and thq

[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



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[attr="class","iwbtr-contain"]

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

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

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Callisto's fist flew true, finding the flesh hidden beneath Brakken's tunic and slamming against his musculature. Though likely unnoticed by the hero himself as the blow quaked through his abdominals, the lone spectator would likely find something odd in the ne'er-do-well's strike; just as his knuckles made contact with the target's body, stray sparks of plasma seemed to flow from his hand into the impact point, yet disappeared from view just as quickly as they'd appeared.

[break][break]

In the clouded shade of a storm, Callisto's quirk was like a bolt of lightning flowing from a cloud to the Earth. Though, unlike the wrath of nature, the goon's ability seemed nominally harmless to the naked eye. As he pulled his fist away, there seemed to be no trace of any unordinary contact; no burn mark, no pulse of static, nothing — it was as though it had never happened at all. Was his quirk a "dud" of sorts, with little practical application beyond his own amusement? Or, perhaps, was it ineffectual against this fighter in particular?

[break][break]

"What," laughed the hero through gritted teeth, "you gonna numb me to death?" Though he'd missed the spark in his pain, a short burst of numbing — one of unusual propensity, given the nature of a punch — had spread through his core before fading into nothingness. If anything, the momentary numbness had seemed a grace from the pain of the strike itself.

[break][break]

"Sure talked a whole lotta shit for having nothing yerself!" Mocking the small-time villain, the hero threw a counterpunch forward, crunching against Callisto's guarding forearm and sending him backward. Through Callisto stumbled from the force, he managed to maintain his footing, though his body remained shaken from the sheer brutality; looking to Brakken, the C-lister grinned.

[break][break]

He raised his fist — the one that had cracked against Callisto's arm — to reveal the concrete-covered knuckles he wielded. In his whiffed blow against the goon, his hand had pierced through the nearby wall; in bleeding his flesh, he had then replaced the injured layer with the concrete of the wall itself, arming his dominant fist with an impromptu knuckle duster of sorts. At the very least, it was a painful weapon meant to kill a combatant's will to continue against it, even if the damage itself wasn't reflective of the agony.

[break][break]

"What, can't even snap my forearm with that?" Though his arm screamed bloody murder and his bones ached all the way through, Callisto could still use it — a fact he would ensure, guarantee even, that Brakken would regret dearly.

[break][break]

"See–" he'd twist his forearm, even flexing his fingers, with a laugh– "I can still move just fine; sure can't swing as hard as you think you can, eh?" Truth be told, he wasn't sure his damaged arm would be of much further use in this match. In spite of his boast, and even further despite his improvised demonstration, the consequences of his guard were significant enough to impair his opposite limb — if Callisto was forced into a contest solely predicated upon hand-to-hand prowess, he was sure that he'd fall just short of his opponent.

[break][break]

So, he wouldn't leave himself to such a competition where the outcome was already decided.

[break][break]

As Brakken made for an enraged charge, electricity crackled across Callisto's figure — flowing up from his feet and up to the tips of his hair, it, too, disappeared just as quickly as it had begun; this time, however, the pieces had been put into place to manifest his advantage. Just as the C-lister took a step forward on the damp terrain, an unknown force dragged him out of his mid-stride balance and through the air, as though he was lifted up by the winds themselves. But, of course, it wasn't the winds that pulled Brakken: it was the force of magnetism.

[break][break]

"That positive charge I gave him isn't particularly potent; on its own, it wouldn't do much to actually affect him. But, by amplifying my body's own charge with my maximum output–" the villain pulled back his dominant fist, reeling it back like he was drawing the string of a bow– "he'll be pulled towards me, and I'll be the only one in full control of my body."

[break][break]

Callisto's fist made its mark on the hero's cheek, slamming into him with the full force of his body's frame; though, just as his opponent would be knocked away, he would again be pulled back towards the villain.

[break][break]

"And he won't stop getting pulled towards me — so I'll bury my fist in his face as many times as I need to do!"



[break][break][break][break][break]

6/30 Charges, Negative[break]
-1 Charge (D- Outside Target, 3 turns)[break]
-5 Charges (C Self Target, 3 turns)[break]
= 0/30 Charges, Negative

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Sonya Chernovna

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

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[Sonya Chernovna]

Even if i become Ishtar watched with muted interest, her expression unchanging as the brawl escalated. The violence increasing and both sides bloodying one another. The flash of plasma drew her eye, energy levels spiking. The details were faint, but her awareness was good enough thanks to her prosthetic eyes that she knew she was seeing something interesting. She tried to analyze it, was it simply a plasmatic charge? No. The effect hadn't left any burn, a discharge then. The man seemed to sure of himself even in the heat of a fight to be doing something pointless. It was a lead-up then. Her eyes narrowed as a smile stretched across her lips. Now this was interesting. She raised her eyebrows as it finally hit a crecendo. The goon was beaten badly, but his body was holding on-tough as nails. And his quirk! Magnetism. She'd seen more than enough, her curiosity turning into genuine interest. She stepped off the side of the building just as Brakken collided with the goon's fist as if he was pulled into it. He let out a grunt of pain and was repelled before being pulled back again. It was on this return trip that her glow washed over the alley, her hand outstretched, her finger pointed. "Die, hero," Ishtar rasped through her respirator, her voice sounding like a death bed rattle, a flash of pale white light, the dead rider's glow, a needle-thin ray of energy drove its way across the distance and pierced Brakken's throat, necrosis, frostbite, and other horrors immediately forming on his flesh. He'd be dead in minutes without help. Ishtar's glow faded and she turned her head towards the goon, "We're leaving, I'll explain myself when we're not standing next to the corpse of a hero." She turned away and started walking, glancing back at him once with those glowing pink eyes, "That is, if you're interested in becoming a very rich man," She teased. the devil himself Callisto Tengoku

made by eden @ gs and thq

[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Old+Standard+TT:400,400i,700]

[attr="class","iwbtr-contain"]

[attr="class","iwbtr-head"]

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

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

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A chill ran down Callisto's spine. From a once humid air, one wrought by the warm droplets that fell from the skies, now turned chilled in the entrance of another figure; this figure, though close to the ideal of the human figure, yet held a different aura, a presence twisted in its pressure. Like being looked upon by a higher being — something that the Venetian couldn't hope to understand — Callisto's eyes shook to the sight of the near-instantly deceased man before him. His shaken gaze, then, fell upon The White Queen in her full majesty.

[break][break]

A display of immediate horror, yet an air of nonchalance; the mere hired goon could only see the body of a human falling apart, decomposing, whilst the interloper looked upon him. Though his body held firm in their presence — the adrenaline medicating his nerves, he supposed — Callisto's gaze couldn't bear to pull themselves away from The White Queen lest she make him her next corpse.

[break][break]

Yet, her intentions seemed founded in another idea; as the aura of menace faded, Callisto found himself wondering a number questions. One of the ones that came to mind, one rang most loudly — had he done something to incur their intrigue? Had his street brawl with the hero — an admittedly juvenile scuffle, given the circumstances — brought upon him the sight of someone much higher on the totem pole? He wasn't sure who they were just yet, but he figured that someone of such a caliber would have a known alias, one he'd likely recall from the groups he'd run in.

[break][break]

As her raspy voice beckoned for Callisto's attention, the still-breathing corpse of the man continued to be pulled towards the man — though, from such a lifeless body, he had no issue holding it back with his good forearm. Though, given a closer inspection of the damage done, Callisto's face crinkled. What had once been healthy cells mere moments ago were now diseased and rotted, deteriorating out from and eating away at the body. It was as though parts of their body had instantly passed through their entire life and the decomposition process of a corpse, yet still hadn't caught up to its inevitable demise.

[break][break]

"...H...Help..."

[break][break]

There came a voice, a faint one, from the dying hero. Though Callisto had taken jabs at the man, and despite having mocked his stature, he hadn't intended for their death; he supposed, in a karmic sort of way, their death was on his hands — at least in placing the man where death would fall to him.

[break][break]

But with a presence as dangerous as The White Queen's, Callisto couldn't — no, he needed to — back away from her offer. The Venetian man couldn't help but think that he held no choice in the proposal. Furthermore, if this woman was so assured in her offer...

[break][break]

He couldn't simply ignore such a deal.

[break][break]

Pushing the body to his side, Callisto let flicker more electricity across his body. Though he hadn't imbued any energy into himself or his surroundings, the rotting hero would be flung away from him into the opposite wall, clearing the path between the two villains — his output hadn't changed, but his polarity had matched the hero's, resulting in the extensive force that buried them in the opposite wall.

[break][break]

"...Could you offer an icepack?" With a slight laugh, Callisto would approach the villainess, following after her steps out of the path. "Pretty sure I haven't broken anything, but the adrenaline's not gonna mask this pain for too long."

[break][break][break][break][break]

3/30 Charges, Positive[break]
D- Outside Target Active (2/3, Positive)[break]
C Self Target Active (2/3, Now Positive)

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Sonya Chernovna

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

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[Sonya Chernovna]

Even if i become Ishtar kept walking, she didn't wait a moment for the man to come to his senses. Whether he took the offer or not, it was his perogative and on his time. She did appreciate, however, the reverence with which he handled her sudden appearance. Her smile curling a little beneath her mask as she walked down the alley. She pulled out her personal phone and called for the transportation she'd taken to get here. What appeared to be a limousine fitted with a matte-black finish slipped out of the shadows in the adjoining alley. It seemed to absorb the light from nearby street lights.  When he finally decided to comply, she nodded at him, "I have all you need in my car, dearie," She said without a moment of hesitation, drawing in the glow around her body until her appearance was almost visible. A pair of masked, unmarked men hurried to open the door for her as she slipped inside, settling in and crossing her legs. The glow almost completely fading at this point. One of the men opened up the adjoining door and allowed Callisto to sit across from her before coming around with a medical kit filled with bandages, painkillers, and even liquid skin among other things. The quality of the supplies were, frankly, the kind of things only Pro Heroes could get. "Will that sooth your wounds?" She rasped, the glow having faded to the point that her white-as-snow skin was visible. the devil himself Callisto Tengoku

made by eden @ gs and thq

[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Old+Standard+TT:400,400i,700]

[attr="class","iwbtr-contain"]

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

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

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In the sight of The White Queen's decadence, the hired thug felt a pit sink into his stomach. To casually display such a sign of wealth was one thing, one still plenty imperious by nature, but to have that matched by the bizarre practicality seen in its adjoined spectacle? Even now, Callisto felt his skin itching with anticipation, wanting this to be over as quickly as he could manage.

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The longer this was to go on, he thought, the more debt he'd be forced to bear. He couldn't yet judge the direction of this invitation — quite frankly, he couldn't figure whether she looked upon him in distaste or intrigue, or even if those were the only options — but, if he was to believe in the lavishness presented before him, he could only imagine it to be a situation of extremes. Whatever the outcome may be, he could only feel that something would change.

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Whether or not that terrified him, he didn't know.

[break][break]

And that sickly-sweet address didn't help, either. There was the thought, now, that this was perhaps some sort of staged plan — but it most certainly couldn't have been by a hero; no, he'd seen that man gasping his dying breaths and left him in that alley. There was no change that anything law-abiding could pull. If not heroes, then villains — and that wasn't better. If anything, to place oneself in a villain's sight is a much worse fate than any hero or prison could offer. He'd done his best to remain on the end holding the bat, but he couldn't shake the possibility that there was more at play than he could realize.

[break][break]

Silently taking the offer into the vehicle, Callisto sat across from the other woman. With a deep breath — a sharp inhale, one pretending to ease the pain when he was steeling his nerves — he'd look to her. Only, then, however, did his gaze shift back to the offered supplies. In their hands was a medical kit filled with supplies, but as the hired goon looked closer, he'd realize that these weren't the supplies issued to civilians. Not typically, anyway.

[break][break]

He'd seen them a scant few times, typically when working with higher-caliber individuals. The ones that would spend millions of dollars on a scheme without so much as batting an eye — to those types, it was no different than buying a yacht or renting the penthouse suite of a famous hotel. To be offered such goods here, of all places, no more helped Callisto's nerves than it made the pit in his stomach heavier.

[break][break]

Returning his gaze to Ishtar, the hired goon shook his head. "Happen to have a cold drink — a canned drink, maybe? Dunno if you carry something cheap as Cola–" something cheap to her, at least– "but anything like that'll do."

[break][break]

Sitting his backpack at his right and leaning back against the seat, Callisto rubbed his forearm with his other hand. Though, for the time being, he'd keep his arm hidden in his jacket's sleeve — he'd rather not have his company "insist" that he take some of her extravagant resources, after all. "Bit too rich for my blood, all that."

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6/30 Charges, Positive

[attr="class","iwbtr-footer"]

Sonya Chernovna

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

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[Sonya Chernovna]

Even if i become Ishtar settled in a bit more comfortably in her seat, the dors around them closing and the engine of the vehicle starting up. In a matter of seconds they were moving. Ishtar watched his face with curiosity, the various emotions working their way through. She glanced down at the offered medical supplies as the light continued to slowly fade from her skin, finally, only the glittering snow-white of her natural skin tone remained. Her mechanical eyes clicked and she gave him a steady look, for a moment she let his words hang in the air as if it had bothered her, before she snorted out a laugh and reached up to her mask, tapping one side. There was a low hiss as the pressure that sealed it released and the mask fell down around her neck revealing a face that was on magazines and in the news. Sonya Chernovna, CEO of ASTA Corporation. The face of the Pro-Hero support movement. Her lip twitched and she shrugged, "No one will believe you, dearie," She said confidently, and opened up the console in the middle of the seat she was on. Inside, cans of soda in a chiller and chips. She plucked a can out and handed it to him. "I prefer the cheap stuff too, honestly," She snickered and crossed her legs. "Seriously, dearie, use the med kit, it's not a big deal. Don't be a brat about it," She waved her hand dismissively. "We can talk once you're feeling better. I'm not going to hurt you." She sighed, "Villains these days, no sense of community..." the devil himself Callisto Tengoku

made by eden @ gs and thq

[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



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

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"Community," was it? Perhaps there was truth in that for the mind of villains. To reign in their manner was typically an affair associated with clashing egos and betrayal; they didn't come as a united front, but as splintered factions who best kept to their own matters. In that sense, there was no community that formed between them, nor were their dispositions ones that fostered such a dynamic to begin with.

[break][break]

Though, in the eyes of a simple criminal like himself, there was plenty in the way of networking. Whereas villains were set along the basis of ideology, criminality was often built on a shared interest of business — illicit business, to be sure, but business nonetheless. In that regard, civility was found in the maintenance of shared objectives. The clashing of egos and betrayals remained, to be certain, but they often came from a greater understanding of all the pieces in play; at the very least, the ones with enough sense could stick it out for the long run.

[break][break]

Ishtar seemed more akin to those criminals he aligned himself with, though still held the same ego he'd recognized in proper villains. Even the audacity with which she displayed her true identity was of that same origin, and her immediate laugh at the inability to expose her was maddening; not that he disbelieved her, but rather, he found no purpose in exposing her to begin with. He had people to care for, after all; starting a moral crusade was neither something he had the time for nor the resources to manage.

[break][break]

It was such that Callisto's expression little swayed from his previous demeanor. As he took the offered can and rolled up his sleeve, he'd simply shake his head.

[break][break]

"You must know all about the community from that golden throne of yours," he'd muse, pressing the can against his bared skin. His arm was clearly bruised, and a few scabs had begun to form from the coarse impact, but Callisto appeared otherwise undeterred by either the damage or the pain. Though, if Sonya cared to pay attention, she'd find his breaths sharpened ever-so-slightly. "Great view of the serfs from all the way up there, I reckon."

[break][break]

Callisto didn't still fully trust Ishtar's intentions with him. Though all evidence pointed to his survival, the whims of villains often were as incongruent with their goals as their positions were to begin with; and if the previous encounter was anything to go by, he could just as easily disappear in a matter of seconds. For the time being, he'd stick to light banter, keeping things away from the path that ended in his destruction.

[break][break]

"It's dangerous business to owe more than you can pay, Miss Chernovna. And my pockets don't run deep enough to accept your gifts."

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9/30 Charges, Negative

[attr="class","iwbtr-footer"]

Sonya Chernovna

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

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[Sonya Chernovna]

Even if i become Ishtar watched his expression shift, her eyes taking in every detail, every minutea of change. Her HUD recording and analyzing shifts, memorizing them, details that could be used in the future to understand a person better. All that activity went on in the background of her labyrinthine mind as she uncrossed and crossed her legs, considering him carefully. Why wouldn't she? He was a man of exceptional talent and ability, magnetic quirks were rare, a force of nature that just needed the right honing. He started to speak as he treated himself with the cold can and she snorted, rolling her eyes and letting out a playful groan as if he brought up something pretentious. She stretched her legs and yawned, "The 'you're rich so you don't know how normal people live' card? Really? Come on," She laughed, offering him a genuine smile, "Please dearie, you'll have to do better than that. I took an interest in you and picked you up, it was a whim, nothing sinister." She popped open another container concealed in the sides of the vehicle and plucked out a bag of chips, she tugged the bag open and popped a few into her mouth chewing as the vehicle drove, her eyes wandering towards the window and the streets outside. Her eyes lingered on the dark outside world for a while, her smile never fading. She let out a sigh after giving him some time to soothe his wounds. She turned her head towards him just as they passed into a tunnel, in the dark, only her hot-pink eyes glowed. Her presence coming down around her like oil in the air, a titanic weight pressing down. "Not every favor can be paid with money, not all gifts come with strings attached," Ishtar said cooly, "I was genuinely trying to be nice with the offer of treatment, but you decided to be rude." They left the tunnel and she relaxed, the soft glow returning to her body as she shook her head in disappointment, "I want to build a community for villains. I have my own reasons for doing so. I have no intention of helping them for free but neither should they feel like they are on their own or have to act without payment," She looked down at her hand as frost formed on her fingertips, "I am a strict but fair mother." She pushed the medical supplies at him again, "I want to invite you to join up." the devil himself Callisto Tengoku

made by eden @ gs and thq

[Callisto Tengoku]

[newclass=.iwbtr-contain]--iwbtr-accent:#132742; --iwbtr-img:url("https://i.imgur.com/7AUMJPa.png");[/newclass]



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The title of a "mother?" Yes, perhaps that was the best notion to describe the air Ishtar held. As Callisto's thoughts turned to his benefactor — his savior? — his posture tightened. Just as was true of his own mother, a woman who instilled in him the principles by which he governed himself, the Venetian's eyes hardly left The White Queen, lest his heedlessness forsake him to his untimely demise.

[break][break]

The pull of his quirk was, undoubtedly just as it affected the material, potent — a weapon to harness, an alluring prize to make one's own. Amongst a sea of inconsequentiality, buried beneath the surface's rabble, the gem gleamed in the reflection of The White Queen's presence. Whilst others would disappear, decay, and fade amongst her light, and while Callisto sat in the darkness of the ordinary world, light resonated from the former into the latter, illuminating him from his darkness.

[break][break]

As they left the tunnel, Callisto's gaze fell to the offered supplies. Tentatively raising a hand, a slow finger trained on the medical aid, his voice came as a whisper.

[break][break]

"A mother, huh?" Lifting his eyes to meet the villainess', Callisto breathed an icy sigh. "A mother raises a child, but a mother doesn't decide who that child is — they can only do so much as to guide them, hoping to steer them on the right path."

[break][break]

"But–" he placed his hand on the case– "this is not that." His fingers shook, if only minutely, as he pushed back the offer. His strength was weak, gone from him as he moved, but his body rebelled against its tension. "A mother understands that their children all break differently. If I take this," he'd breathe, "I will break."

[break][break]

Leaning away, Callisto placed his arms back along the seat, declining his chin as he stared ahead. His can — his choice of soothing what ailed him — now stuck to his forearm, no longer needing its opposite's care. What an interesting weapon indeed.

[break][break]

"Please understand the words of a serf — of a child," he'd correct himself, "as I speak. I don't mean to be rude to you, but I do mean to be truthful." Even if, despite himself, his body quaked in her presence. Even managing this posture was beyond himself, but it was a feat he would endure as a testament to his life. "This may ease me now, and it may be inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but it won't sit right with me. Even if only once, if I do what you're asking of me, the thought of doing it again will always be on the table."

[break][break]

"And as I imagine you desire, you wouldn't want a version of me that strays away from his responsibilities, would you?"

[break][break]

[break][break][break][break][break]

12/30 Charges, Negative[break]
-1 Charge (D- Outside Target, 3 turns)[break]
-3 Charges (D+ Self Target, 3 turns)[break]
= 8/30 Charges, Negative

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Sonya Chernovna

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