neinnotnine:

If it wasn’t evident before, it was now, clear as day—this boy was one big cry for help. It didn’t even look like Kijima had tried to hide it this time, and if he did, he did it horribly. Sasha felt a spike of irritation—was the boy simply not aware of himself, or was he purposely trying to make him angry by beating around it in the most obnoxious way possible?

“…”

Staying true to his calm reputation, Sasha let the irritation slip away, back into the carefully regulated chamber that was his mind. His voice continued to stay as cold as ever, blowing a puff of smoke from his mouth before he spoke.

“Young man, there is strength in numbers in this world crawling with danger. I suggest that you get your act together before it’s too late.”

The man turned his back to Kijima and grabbed the cigarette between two fingers, pausing for a moment. When he resumed, his voice was a bit softer. He thought of the kids back at camp.

“I fear for your safety otherwise.”

Kijima wanted nothing more than to just press the button on his Zodiart switch, but something stopped him. There was something about this man, some ease of confidence that told him he had some kind of power beneath the surface. A switch? Or was it related to the way he’d been levitating his cigarette? Either way, it wouldn’t normally stop the teen, but he wasn’t sure he wanted this man knowing about the switch. Not yet, anyway. So he released his death grip on the switch in his pocket and forced his body to relax, even as his mind tore itself with indignation.

“As far as I’m concerned, allies are just more people who can turn on you. The closer they are, the more damage they do! it’s that simple.” He’d learned that the hard way, and he was beginning to think that it was why he was landed in this mess now.

(Source: punster-pretender)

[[Yo, guys. Mun’s been feeling a little sick the past week or so, so apologies for slowness. Still gonna try to knock out what little i owe here before starting an open on Yukio, tho.]]

neinnotnine:

The man hoped that he wouldn’t have to worry, wouldn’t see anything past anger at his accusation, but there it was—the slight twitch of his eyes, like his response had invoked something that he could just barely contain. A common sign of irritation, though his gesture seemed to be amplified by his own rash nature. 

“I was, in fact, a teacher of sorts where I came from.” His tone conveyed no acknowledgement of Kijima’s biting sarcasm. “I am confident, though, that I do not need to worry much about survival, other than sheer lack of resources.’

Sasha put both hands in his coat’s pockets, withdrawing from one a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He then proceeded to take one from the open package, light it and stick it into his mouth—all without moving his hands from his pockets, of course. This was a skill he practiced often, and consequently mastered. He continued to show no readable emotion.

“I’d also like to point out that your attitude, in fact, won’t get you very far, either.”

(Source: punster-pretender)

neinnotnine:

Sasha found himself taking interest in this young man’s behavior. How he hid his true expression behind a defiant smile, how nonchalant he looked for someone being confronted for their faults, and most noticeably, how this seemed to be practiced so well that it was almost effortless for him.

Very interesting. In fact, it very closely reminded him of…

“…”

No, he wouldn’t let himself think that just yet. To compare himself to someone else in terms of psyche was hardly short of an insult. He dismissed the thought for now, formulating a careful, testing response.

“Is that so? Your eyes tell me otherwise, young man.” The man made a small noise, resembling a scoff. “Maybe you should work on your pretending skills. You are not putting up a very convincing front, quite frankly.”

(Source: punster-pretender)

divine—genocide:

Hidan may have been anticipating a jutsu of sorts, perhaps something closer to wind style jutsu, given Kijima’s fan. But what manifested seconds before the monsters attacked had him gaping incredulously. He squinted at the dark cloud, trying to comprehend what was happening. He could recall seeing the constellation symbol from mythical books he knew as a kid; something he would dismiss nowadays as pagan bullshit. When the smoke cleared, he could clearly see the man took on a monstrous appearance, himself. With snapping claws and what appeared to be the hard shell of a crustacean. Overall, he looked like something one might see in a graphic novel.

“Heh! What the hell is that? Alright, so you could probably crush a few things with—”

Another shrill cry, and the beasts charged.

“Let’s maim these motherfuckers!”

Cyan chakra energy flared from his feet as he shot forward, catching one of the reptilian creatures by the torso. The scythe blades left bleeding gouge marks and the beast sent an ear-splitting roar in protest. “Hurts, doesn’t it!?” He narrowly missed a clawed hand, springing back several meters. The scythe unraveled on a rope being fed through twin spools, whipping across the monster’s back to rip out a sizable chunk of flesh. He had plenty of blood on his scythe if he wanted to bother with a ritual, but sometimes he was content to just reveling in the carnage.

“Shit, I dunno if I want to ingest this thing’s blood,” he commented offhandedly. The scythe cut an arc through the air, flinging blood in its wake, and he caught the hilt to briefly glance at Kijima’s fight. He had to wonder if he had any impressive jutsu, or if that monster was just capable of leveling the area with its claws.

Kijima wasn’t interested in causing pain today — Don’t take this the wrong way, his sadistic streak was something he prided himself on, but he preferred the emotional variety, and you couldn’t get that with razor sharp claws. Also, he kind of doubted the inhabitants they were fighting now could even feel much in the way of pain, was a bit of a moot point.

He wasn’t about to deprive Hidan of his fun, though; heaven knows it’s hard to come by much of that in this place.

The Cancer Zodiart skipped lightly into the fray with grace betraying his bulky armor, slicing clean through a beast as he passed by. It kept wriggling on the ground, though, so he sliced at it again, gouging out some of the battered pavement beneath it. Gore ran down his claw, and asphalt dust stuck to it, dulling its wet shine but certainly not its edge.

Kijima was much less careful in his combat than Hidan was, by merit of his armor. He shrugged off attacks that would have destroyed him utterly had he not been the monster he was now, and laughed while doing it, laughed, because the idea that these insolent little freaks of nature could ever bring him down was the biggest joke of all. His arrogance cost him blows to the back, shoulders, everywhere, and he knew he’d probably pay for this once rush of power had left his system, but for now, he reveled in the anarchy of the moment.

“Are you kidding?” Kijima replied to the comment, adding lightheartedly, “I just hope it’s not contagious!”

Not that he had to worry overly much.

neinnotnine:

Sasha doesn’t even need to turn around to know he’s being watched, feeling the stare like a looming shadow over him. It didn’t exactly unnerve him, it was just.. annoying.

The green-skinned man turned more towards this teenager—he seemed to be glaring at him with a hatred that seemed to embody much more than petty teenage indignance. This boy knew exactly why he hated Sasha, though he had never met him before. Making a mental note to psychoanalyze this boy further should he find the need to, Sasha turned to face him, his expression unchanging, almost infuriatingly so.

“Is there something you want from me? I could only draw this conclusion from the way you seem to be attempting pyrokinesis upon my back.”

Kijima made no reaction to being called out on his blatant glare, except, of course, to smile. His eyes stayed as cold as ever.

It was definitely infuriating how little of a reaction the man was giving. You would think someone would at least be surprised after discovering they were being glared at as if they were Satan incarnate, but not this fellow. Eyes hidden safe behind tinted lenses, he gave away absolutely nothing. He clearly had almost supernaturall control over his feelings. With Hayami, he’d at least been able to provoke the man to rage occasionally, but he couldn’t even imagine this man’s face as angry.

“…No. I want absolutely nothing from you.” He couldn’t decide whether what he was saying was meant to be sarcastic or not, because he did kind of want to punch him in the face.

(Source: punster-pretender)

Kijima only has to look at the man once before taking an instant dislike to him, and that is because he reminded him so perfectly of Kouhei Hayami.

The comedian barely suppresses a sneer. His facial features differ, sure, and his skin had a pale, greenish pallor that couldn’t be healthy, but everything else was a match. From his ramrod-straight posture to the way he seems to turn his nose up at the world, even the way he perfectly controls his body language, everything. He thought he had escaped people like that, but he supposed that was foolish.

Needless to say, without even speaking to him, Kijima has found that everything about this man pisses him off.

divine—genocide:

“Yeah? You don’t look like any shinobi I’ve seen.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, head inclined in an arrogant way that suggested he wasn’t about to take back what he said. He did idly wonder if the guy had some kind of jutsu for that little fan of his. Certainly Hidan was familiar with shinobi using fans for wind-based chakra, but they were usually much larger and more lethal than what Kijima carried. Debris cracked under each step as he strolled with a swagger, surveying each sign hanging above the aisles. If this dreary town had department stores still stocked with the basic necessities for survival, then there had to be more people lurking around here with information. He had a hunch he might end up fighting a few of them, the thick lingering fog might hide fiends ready to attack anyone threatening.

He didn’t have time to contemplate that, however, because a thin, foreboding rumble seized his attention and sent vibrations through every fiber of his being. It reverberated from somewhere outside, not far from where they stood. Whipping his head around, he gaped incredulously for a fraction of a second. “‘The fuck was that?” Then he grinned, face lit up like a child at Christmas. “Heheh! We got company.” He grabbed the hilt of the scythe, held it at his side, and sauntered on out into the street.

“Oi! You wanna prove you’re more than just some performer with a fan, now’s your chance—”

A humanoid, reptilian creature about eight feet tall emerged from the foggy shadows of a nearby building. Its claws seemed to be about as sharp as the edge of a sword, and with another aggressive roar, several more creatures emerged. They followed suit when the beast charged at the department store — apparently scavengers weren’t welcome in their territory.

Kijima followed after the robed man as he made his way down the aisles, having nothing better to do. He’d found what he wanted there already, and interacting with Hidan, as arrogant as he was, passed the time. Besides, he was sure the time would come when —

Ah. Yes.

The comedian felt his fingers close around the familiar shape of the Zodiart switch in his pocket, rubbing his thumb along the button at the top almost lovingly. His device did not have the debilitatingly addictive effect that standard Switches did, but power was its own narcotic.

“You don’t have to tell me more than once,” Kijima left the store after him with a swagger in his step. It felt like the switch was buzzing between his fingers.

He pressed the button with a click, and a familiar indescribable sensation washed over his body. A brief, obscuring cloud swirled around him, black and nebulous. Lights flared in the shape of the Cancer constellation, and then, the cloud was gone — and what stood behind it now was nothing short of a monster.

The Cancer Zodiart leaned forward towards the advancing group of adversaries, claw held before him, ready. He glanced towards Hidan for another moment and when he spoke, his voice was just a little warped. “Is this satisfactory, then?” His tone was mocking, and you could almost see the smug grin on his face.

Horoscopes Part 1

Scorpio, Libra, Cancer, Aries, Leo, Capricorn

scp-076-2:

Humans were drawn towards chaos. War and destruction are almost always brought about by them. Though they pretend to detest the deadly actions, humans can’t help but be responsible for it. It stems from their natural impulse to hate. To fear. When they encounter something they do not understand, they fear it. Once they fear it, they begin to hate it. And when they hate it…

Chaos ensues.

At least, that was what it seemed like for the longest time. These vile impulses that humans experience were seen as natural by some. But what if they weren’t? In fact.. they clearly weren’t. Only a select few knew of the truth. But their time came to an end. The end of the world scenario, they called it. How true that turned out to be. And with the fall of one world, another becomes the target for these inexplicable forces. The first of which to arrive proved to be… problematic.

Feral dogs swarmed upon the sight of impact. Any curious being would. A object randomly falling from the sky was not a common occurrence most of the time. Especially when the object was a cube of unknown material with various markings over it. The foul beasts barked at the cube continuously. They could smell it. A living being inside of the cube. Of course, for them that meant food. For the being inside, it meant play. The cube eventually opens and the acts that followed, completely unmerciful. By the end of it a single man stood. Long black hair, grey eyes filled with malice. Clad in a worn and torn uniform of some sort. And various canine limbs strewn about.

“I’ve come across an interesting world this time. And it doesn’t look like it needs much aid in destruction. It’s done a hell of a job of that on it’s own.”

It is, perhaps, fortunate that Kijima chose today to take a break from being human.

It really was nice, once in a while, to ignore the world and just go out killing things. At Amanogawa, the Cancer Zodiart hadn’t been allowed to cause as much havoc as he would have liked; mostly, he was expected to lay low and not to make trouble. No troublemaking! The nerve! He wouldn’t have become a Zodiart at all if it wasn’t for his troublemaking, and then he was expected to just sit around until Libra could use him in one of his ploddingly obvious schemes? As if. he had bigger fish to fry.

So Kijima had decided to spend a little time in the Yellow Zone today, not because he needed to, but because he could. He carved a path of destruction from hotspot to hotspot, and he’d probably made some poor scavenger’s day by dismembering the gaggles of dogs and walkers clustered around the choicer ones. Not that he cared overly much. It was a rampage, to be sure, but not a mindless one.

The Cancer Zodiart skipped easily down what remained of a street, rubble heaped on either side of the pavement. The dark, deoxygenated blood of the dead trickled freely down his claw. He’d only really fought Kamen Rider Fourze before coming to Fiddler’s green, and it had surprised him how much squishier humans were when not clad in superpowered suits. Kijima supposed it probably shouldn’t have.

The Cancer Zodiart rounded a corner, and what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

“Well, isn’t that a dog’s breakfast?” Kijima cracked wise, hardly missing a beat, but not coming any closer to the epicenter of the carnage. He still wasn’t sure who this guy was, or if he was even friendly. People were getting into the habit of shooting at the Zodiart on sight, which struck him as rather rude.