Welcome to Gaia! ::

The sky is dark, but it only brings out the cherry blossom’s color even more. He sits in the hallway facing the garden. One eye is squeezed shut when his older brother pushes against him and rustles his black mop of hair. “Hey ***, don’t you think the blossoms are extra pretty this time?” He grins into the boy’s face. The child leans away, protectively holding is warm cup of green tea. “I suppose,” he concedes. A greedy hand reaches for a piece of mochi shaped just like a blossom. The brother laughs, pulls him away from the treat. “Eat anymore and you won’t have room for dinner.”

He is the youngest and the smallest. “Ani-ue, wait!” He’s scrambling to his feet as his eldest brother walks down the hallway, his back shrinking. “Let me come too! I can help…!” The child stops when he feels a reassuring hand on his head. “No, ***, you should stay here. You’re still inexperienced. Stay here with the sitter until we come back, okay?” He doesn’t move. He places a hand on his head when his brother heads for the front door. “Be a good kid, you hear me?”

Shoulders slump. He isn’t big enough. He’s still spry and small. Still too helpless. He curls up in himself. “Okay…”

[ The Hopeful ]

Amityville Academy. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she wouldn't hate it so much. Maybe she wouldn't cry. Maybe she would make new friends. Maybe people would like her for who she was.

Maybe she would be able to show them that she didn't need to change to be the monster that she was born to be.

Not maybe. She would.

She wasn't sure where this blind rage had come from, but the minute she saw Jerry lash out at Demi, the baku ghoul's vision suddenly went red. She was made aware of a voice whispering against her ear, urging her to attack, to tear him apart for daring to harm her friend. Overwhelmed, she gave in to the feeling, her voice suddenly tight as she snarled an order at her friend beside her.

And then she jumped for the hunter, the voice in her head sounding satisfied--and perhaps a little amused--as it egged her on, encouraging her to destroy him.

Itoto held his hands over his warm heart, a meagre mix of a handful of colours; not like the brilliant prisms he'd seen around him earlier. If someone like him was needed to be sacrificed, he wondered if his small contribution would really be worth anything at all. But even though his heart was simple and hardly impressive, it was still his own. It held such amazing memories that he wanted to keep, no matter how terrifying they sometimes were. He didn't want to fade away. His choices, however limited, were still his choices. In the end, he'd still have to give up his heart. Maybe all he could do was take solace in the fact he got the choice of whom he'd be sacrificing it for.

Power? He'd been trying all this time but.. was that really what he wanted for himself? A blind journey for power? According to this world he was Prey.. but he didn't want to be prey. Gaining power was just a way to stay alive, to find meaning in his life.

Legacy? What had he done that separated himself from every other grey figure in this world? They all shawn with brilliance, experiences beyond comprehension, and what did he have? Nothing of worth to leave behind. He barely had pride to spare.

Knowledge. That was something he felt he lacked. Maybe it wasn't power he wanted. Maybe.. what he really sought out was information. He wanted not to be left in the dark, always asking questions and wondering and being left behind.

Green foliage began to overcome all else. He moved forward, almost entranced. His hand that lay over his chest began to dig deep inside. He winced, his shoulders hunching as his fingers gripped his warm and beating heart. It hurt, and it took a long time. Each agonizing second ripped through him, tearing pieces of himself out with short, stifled cries of pain. The further his heart was pulled, the more his memories began to fade away.
It wasn't just physical pain. There was something else that hurt besides that. But that too began to go away, leaving him feeling ever more hollow and empty. How much longer now? Would this cycle of thievery never end?
Taking, taking, taking. Always taking everything away from him.

As even his vision began to go, his heart leaving his body, he heard soft, fleeting voices. Sudden flickering of images in his mind, perhaps just pieces of the memories he was sacrificing for the unknown purpose. Faces.. calling his name.. what was it.. what was his name?

His eyes closed, features relaxed as his mind emptied.

Was this really the right thing to do? *** really wasn't sure. Although she had undoubtedly been angry--and still was--over what had happened to her friends, now that she had calmed down some, the idea of slaying this Hunter--Stacey--didn't sit well with her. After some of their preaching about how they weren't killers and were only fighting to protect themselves, killing him now seemed almost...counterproductive. However, the decision had already been made, so...

*** nodded when Lizzy quietly suggested that she and some others leave, knowing that they wouldn't want to watch. Disappointed and pained that it had come to this, the baku took one of her other friends by the hand and turned to go.

She used to be alone. She used to stare out the window as her parents drove off to work. She would wave them goodbye, clawed hands and all. She used to watch her siblings stumble out the door and chatter about school assignments and fights and friends, but she was still too young to attend school. She had to stay at home.

[Hey, don’t you think we should do something interesting?] (If by interesting you mean reading…) Her ears perk up when voices ring in her head. Who are you? [Tisiphone!] (Megaera.) [(We are you and you are us.)]

*** has no shame in admitting she’s probably a pyromaniac. This is normal coming from a family of fire hellhounds. Everyone can manipulate fire. It’s in their blood, their nature. She isn’t the most gifted, but neither is she a talentless sack of super-excited dog. Spiked tail is flicking back and forth while she conjures a flame in the palm of her hand. She repeats the same with her other hand, and now she’s cackling like a maniac.

“PercyPercy! Look what I cancan do! PEEERCY!”