Charm. I've always wanted to be charming, feel charming, exude charming. I do none of those. I garner mild curiosity at best. Fleeting. I tell jokes badly, have an awkward energy and burn my tongue too often on hot drinks. My laugh is average and my wit is the same. I'm at my best when I have a story and at my worst when I tell it. Charm is so enviable when I see it in others. I wish I could learn this power, wield this power, use it everywhere I go - but I can't, I don't and I won't. Dems da breaks.
I have this character that I like to build into various scenarios. I built an entire world around her, but she doesn't have her own story yet.
She's confident. She knows her own body and all of the ways it can move, what it can and can't do. She knows her partner and their team. She knows her people, her world, her life, and has the sense of surety that comes from knowing she's walked through hell more than once and come out the other side stronger for it.
She's a warrior. Physically, she and her team almost won a war on their own. Mentally, because she bears the weight of inheriting an entire planet. Spiritually, because she survived war and capture and torture and experimentation and didn't break until she was home safely. Even then, she fought her way back and glued herself back together with just a little help.
She's human. Not literally, because she was born in a different race, in a different world, but in her emotions. She's strong in every way, but gentle and humble. She's not overconfident and arrogant, but simply comfortable in her own abilities. She will eliminate people who threaten the innocent, but then turn around and gently carry small beings to their families. She'll destroy invading armies, then decide to dance or cook or sing like she's never seen blood in her life. She lives the story of the strongest monks sweeping temples.
At the same time, she's wild. Feral, even. She has no mercy for those who threaten innocents. She doesn't blink at carnage. She doesn't hesitate to kill. Her morals are all focused in the same direction: protect.
Depends on Who You Ask
This girl has two identities. Her name is Emiko Suoh. Fanfiction OC? Yes. Likely won't end up doing anything but I wanted to pose the ideas.
Natsume(or Emiko's) Book of Friends
A child with the ability to see Yokai. An ability inherited through the grandmother and for a twist; Emiko received this dubious gift from the Suoh side. Shizue. It was distasteful but it was what it was.
Arriving in Japan; a year younger than her brother Tamaki, Emiko approaches Ouran methodically allowing students to approach and fawn over her as the demure heiress of a prominent family. She didn't resent the students using her, two friends who weren't yet boasting of being in her good graces or asking favors: they all used each other. Being seen with others would prevent either her grandmother from meddling or Tamaki from worrying.
She is very much into pastels and cute flowing dresses.
Yokai however, tend to ruin the things she holds dear, namely her closet and blond tresses. It angered her but she kept her composure as they were not only stronger than her, sometimes outright murderous, but also universally suffering. Any source she has read agree that the Yokai are a despondent creature. Besides, they did make for good conversation when they were in the mood. Still, being a pet is quite a presumptuous question. Whether in France or Japan her life was not dire or desperate. Yokai in her childhood often bonded with her through riling her overdramatic brother.
While sorting through the attic for keepsakes of her Mother and even Father in the second estate she comes across another tidbit of her past Shizue had attempted to hide. The book of yokai, ghosts, and spirits she had imprisoned and enslaved. Or, she supposed simply snared was the right word. Knowing what she does Emiko takes the book, intent on freeing the spirits, finding an out of the way nature reserve that served her purposes well; a business with little revenue and so overgrown and almost abandoned. Save for the mysterious proprietor of the land that didn't look to care how many people wandered in.
That is, until those intruders begin releasing Yokai which their clan works so hard to seize and kill. Matoba was a ruthless and antagonistic person perhaps Emiko's own age but still a foreboding leader of the Matoba clan. The two strike odds in their ideologies concerning Yokai, all of Emiko's experiences shaping an opinion that humans were a hassle compared to Yokai, much preferring her spectral friends to this real world and human relationships. Matoba of course feeling the opposite and so seeing Emiko as something akin to a witch. Not evil or worth death mind you, just... terribly misguided and dangerous to continue on. Leading to an abduction to obtain her book, a relic that cannot be passed without consent or her own death.
Emiko can't say she isn't intrigued and if nothing else; Matoba is not unstable nor violent, and take out the abductions he does appear reasonable. Though that complicates matters of anyone believing her even if there were adults in her life who would bother to do anything rather than blame her. Matoba further taunted her whilst closing that option when he sealed a business proposal with Shizue, making him a 'friend' of the Suoh family. Though despite that, despite being blackmailed they do come to care for each other. So when tensions and repressed agonizing rage of her Mother's circumstances take Emiko down a dark path ready to renounce this human world to the Yokai; Matoba cannot cut her down. Nor can he ignore that his hatred has cooled, able to hear wailing within the sky of pained, restless souls. Not all human, but sentient and feeling.
Emiko is brought to her senses but with the power imbued into her faces a choice... between the world where she's known so little love or to grant the secret wish of escaping somewhere else. To wander the world of spirits respected, feared, and adored for her work. In the end she can't forgive the way Tamaki can, despite being grateful to have genuine friends at school and in Matoba her scars run deep and besides, she couldn't even be sure if her father cared much more for either her or Tamaki.
Shooting Star-- uses some plot from Static Shock. Mostly season one. I just liked it, but also pertains as to why the title is as it is. And also, have some fun.
About six or seven months following a chemical disaster that released a toxic smog onto the outskirts of a Commoner prefecture. Hotly debated, sizzling news tonight is the enigmatic, mysterious Alva. Rumors circulate about company espionage, sabotage, restitution, and a thieving ring. Now this "Bang Baby"-- (may change that, though it would fit for her origin story-- slumming with other Ouran classmates), more commonly goes by Shooting Star, yet it is her hired hands and loyal followers who are privy to this second alias. Until tonight.
Hitori Shiomiya: Lyter
Hitori, fifteen years old, Second Year student of Matsuba Municipal Public School is here today to recount a... harrowing experience. Though unknown, Shooting Star had chosen to abduct him. Once recovered it was later confirmed that he holds a position in his school newspaper so...
The hefty camera swiveled to meet the face of a lean, somewhat dozing boy. Plain featured with a light brown fringe cut and under grey eyes were black bags.
"With his permission we present an exclusive to Shooting Star. Just who she is and just where this Bang Baby stands apart from all the rest."
The boy did his best to keep confident. Hitori may have unflinchingly, unequivocally agreed to this, getting the story out and workshopping the girl's tarnished reputation... and his allies would say that was a risk.
"Delighted to be of assistance," he assured politely.
Right now of course, they'd managed to spin the story that Hitori; unremarkable high school student and definitely not Bang Baby was the target out of misplaced spite against a world that condemned those of her kind.
A pushy, but not violent protest to get the word out through him.
"I'm sure you are now, a reminder, we can stop for a break anytime you like."
"That won't be necessary." But he threw in a smile, crinkling his eyes to look grateful, "but I appreciate the sentiment."
"Well I suppose we'll get on with it. Make sure you get some sleep tonight."
The joke got only polite, stinted laughter. As had been planned.
Hitori had slept. He'd just, not... slept... well.
"Now tell us, Alva--"
"Shooting Star," Hitori corrected. "Alva is what she uses for business and it's meant as a scare tactic to the specific companies she hits."
The police already knew there was a pattern from the documents and notebooks found in her lair.
He really, really hoped Star was okay.
"Okay then Shooting Star; youth on a power trip or chaotic good meta-human?"
"Honestly, really depends on who you ask?" he said quite honestly.
A sneaky smile betrayed the thoughts, the people, that ran through his mind.
"There are many people who'd have a whole lot of reasons to say just about anything about Star. Depending on what they want."
"Hmm really. Now do go on."
Hitori leaned in mimicking the note of secrecy and intrigue. "For one people in power are of course going to call her addled and insane..."
Shizue and her disapproving frown would certainly say so.
Better not to dwell too long though.
"No one was none the wiser of the Alva company having been responsible in the first place of horrifically ugly not to mention painful mutations--"scripted dialogue. Sounded professional. Proper. "Not to mention all the shareholders and prominent members of society willingly turning a blind eye or blessed to better resources by sole status of their wealth. Shooting Star brings all that to the light. Without endangering or ruining anyone if anyone else had tried."
If there was one thing such a misguided, angry soul had been right about it was theirs(the Suoh kids and his own) ability to do anything. For the moment.
He was unsure on that still. Whether letting that destructive, crime ridden course of action go on. Even if it would defeat an arguably bigger, holistically vicious crime.
"I agree with your summary," a but was apparent in that tone. It would be in his, maybe if he was older. Maybe... if he hadn't spent days watching her banter with her brother, or let them both go without so much as a beat. "That said, what many people cannot abide..."
"Is the aggressive means she uses to get there. Not to mention her blaise, thoughtless attitude to the whole thing," he granted. "Shooting Star said as much herself the crusader business entertains her."
*Allowing him freedom from his binds Hitori tested his wrists. He didn't exactly have a poker face. Not like this girl who kept up the "not all there" aesthetic whenever her powers came out to play.
And so did when portions of her dress sleeves lashed out and whipped closed around his throat, taut but without pressure. Holding him there as she then extended her hold to the hanging light fixtures.
"Turn yours off and I'll turn mine," she said somewhat quietly.
He'd later have her cell phone. Two whole days.
Not just for the invaluable pictures he'd saved to his own... but to figure out just what she had in mind.
He'd been fingering through her collection of photos, Star sitting with her legs up, resting her head on her knees before stretching up and placing her gaze firmly on the wall opposite.
A long, eerily mocking smile hitched up her face.
"You aren't wrong you know. I mean obviously you do but I hope it provides some positive that I acknowledge who is in the right here," she said, but Hitori couldn't just take it. Sure enough the sentiment was rewarded, "that is what's most convenient to the media. You play Alva's narrative quite well. You and I both know that of all parties it's biotech and health companies that profit from this whole fiasco. Ootori, Kochi, Ala-Toren," she began to laugh. "Suoh! All get to experiment on us freaks, lock us up... tell us we're wrong, broken. Mistakes, because of their fuck-ups. Their greed. Of course, we're paying for it. The adults make a mistake and who pays for it but those like us. Young, unheard, silenced. Disposable."*
Simply stood there. Dress billowing softly.
"My apologies, but all the same it is the literal. If it had been a reporter like myself, if I were commenting on say... the mayor's office I may find myself and my family slapped with court papers no matter how many civilians may agree with me."
"Let's uhh, let's not go there. Now I've been directin the conversation so far, let's move into... you."
Hand across his face, Hitori did put some serious thought. How to say this?
How to say it in the least problematic, not to mention, exposing way possible?
Hitori supposed starting with the truth wouldn't kill him.
"I'd say she didn't use more force than she needed, it was a quick and simple matter of catching her victim unawares."
And he could almost see the lie in his mind's eye, either straddled from his bed, slowly lifted off in his sleep. Tied by some rope(perhaps the flag) as he exited school and scooped off his feet in front of the entire student body.
The truth though was a bit more, hired his least favorite Ebon and his gang to stage a robbery as a cover for a kidnapping leading to some exploding lights and close misses with many, many knives and talons.
"As a captor she treated me well. I never went hungry or anything like that, I wasn't yelled at or threatened. She kept me tied up long as it took for me to trust that I'd be released anyway. At most she promised i'd probably miss two/three days of school."
"Huh and why do you suppose that is?"
"Well she is school age. And honestly I would have a pretty hard time believing she is like mental and psychotic. Bang Babies usually end up attacking anything and everything within their sight not that anyone with eyes can't see that's because they hardly understand their own bodies much less how it can suddenly spout fire or turns into boneless Jello.
"If I had to give my two cents she's reacted the best."
The newscaster nodded.
"I want to circle back to the companies she hits. Right now all of them are from one conglomerate, not the most common knowledge granted but I bet the police could at least verify I wasn't talking out my-- well, that I'm not lying."
And she looked rapt with attention for the info.
"If I hazarded a guess Shooting Star has close ties or reason to dislike Suoh group. From where it looked to her and later to me when she held me, they were one of the big companies that had an in with Alva; maybe to treat their own kids if they got stuck in the gas or maybe some inherited thing I couldn't say..."
"But either way..."
"The connection was there and she considered that unacceptable."
"She has a lot of money laundering projects. Jewels, China, hard cash, gold, silver, any and every valuable commodity you could think of she smuggles it. She's definitely into the fancier things in life. It's honestly a little funny. But gay love novels that was... unexpected."
That elicited a very unscripted gasp. And Hitori couldn't help but be just a little disappointed.
Trying to figure out how to display insecurity/anxiety more realistically. This is the same scene from two different perspectives from two characters that have anxiety.
What do people think about me? My skirt is cute right? Suck in suck in. People will think, "she’s cute she’s enjoying her life," right? Alright, gonna walk up to the cashier and order my quarter moon latte. Gonna do that easily and not mess up my words and seem cool. Pretend to look at the menu like I don’t know what I want. Look around, not looking at my phone. Continue looking around, shit. It’s John and Carol again. I forgot they came in here on Sundays after church. Am I supposed to get out of line now to say hi? I can’t pretend I didn't see them. Maybe I can wave and then say I’ll come talk to them in a minute. I don’t want to talk to them in a minute, I don’t want to talk to them at all.
God. They are gonna talk about God aren’t they, pretend they’re better than me and invite me to their Bible study. They know I’m agnostic. Why do I even pretend for them? Well, I’m not pretending for them, I’m pretending for Dad, and for myself really, protecting myself from being yelled at in some way. I don’t wanna step on dad's toes. “Oh, Hayley, hi” John’s eyes light up and his voice boosts, way too loud, across the coffee shop, probably wants everyone to hear him, especially his church friends. I swallow. “This is our niece,” I see Carol nod in my direction. I can’t believe I’m related to these people. I swallow again. Guess I have to walk over there now. Then I'll have to get back in line awkwardly and everyone will see that I got out of line then I got back in line.
Why do we have to live in the same town? The Bibles sit on the table in front of them, symbols of their denial of reality. The denial of the cause of Noah’s death. It was not his time, he could’ve been saved. The image of my dad trying to swallow some air as he sat Cody and I down to tell us Noah had committed suicide.
I haven’t forgiven them.
And we are so different. Bet they haven’t done one bit of introspection in their lives. “Whatcha reading today?” John says in the most annoying baby voice he can muster. He’s not gonna be able to pronounce the author again is he? He’s gonna pretend to know what I’m reading. It’s not a fun game to play. We get it, John, you don’t read. Well, maybe he reads his Bible. That’s better than nothing, right? For a moment, I feel as though I have free free-will. Maybe I can say something like the Koran or something just to mess with him. I don't.
It’s so good to have a routine, to have these friends we can discuss the Lord with. I hope they don’t think I am a bad person. I am a bad person. May Jesus forgive me.
I think of my late son, Noah, and bile rises in my throat. What we are doing now, though, is finding forgiveness, from Jesus and from ourselves. Being good Christians, we might still get a chance at salvation.
Our niece, Hayley, just walked through the door. Wonder if she noticed us since we are in the back corner and she is looking up at that menu, so focused. It’s such a crowded Sunday here and I know I’m gonna have to speak up pretty loudly, I don’t want to scream. Seeing her reminds me of Noah. Most things still do. The last time I saw her was at family Christmas. She was nice then, her and Alexis actually got along for once. She got along with Noah so much better, all of the cousins used to play. People liked him more. It’s always the good ones that bad things happen to. The Devil visited our child, our poor boy.
I felt frozen, so I coughed a little, clearing the bile out of my throat. I perk up, preparing to call out, but my husband does first. “Oh, Hayley, hi,” he says, loud enough to get her attention away from the menu. She smiles and walks over. Cute skirt. She always looks so put together, much better than our children. “This is our niece,” I say as sweetly as I can. Do I want them to meet her? It seems like she went to church this morning. Good. No questions will be asked of us of why there's sin in our family. There’s a lull in the conversation as Hayley continues to smile and John breaks the silence by asking, “whatcha reading today?” Good, I thought I’d have to ask about her day.