kato-wolf

[kato-wolf]

@gucrdiano‌:

Bored was a five letter word and he could spell it backwards. Derob. He spelled it the right this time. Bored. And then backwards. Derob. And then- 

He let out a sigh. Normally, he’d spend today with his older sister, Adrienne, but she went missing recently. He continued to scribble in his notebook before deciding that words weren’t enough to distract himself. He drew caped crusaders and villains getting trapped behind bars. Then he drew orbs. Lots of them. 

“Hey,” he looked up and smiled to the person not too far away from him, “random question, but do you think dead people still celebrate birthdays?” He tried not to be too loud, they were still in the University’s library. People were studying. 

He had literally no reason to be here. 

But then again, Kato apparently made a career out of being places he wasn’t supposed to be, or otherwise wouldn’t be. 

But he’d actually tailed someone here. Someone he thought might be able to lead him to a source he’d been looking for for weeks—a connection to a crime lord that he knew for a fact police had been on the hunt for for months, and someone who’d recently been causing enough havoc in the city, that he’d popped up on Kato’s—or rather Somnium’s—radar. 

He’d lost them though, somewhere in the middle of campus—and though he really doubted the guy he’d been tailing was in anyway affiliated with the university, it’d been a smart move—to go somewhere so big, so populated, so easy to get lost in. 

By the time he’d made one more turn, and found himself in the library, the hush of the space hugging him like a quilt fresh out of the dryer, he was already a few minutes into giving up, and just going through the motions at this point. But the guy was long gone, and he knew it. 

Another time then. 

So for now, he sighed. Got himself a tea just outside the doors, and wandered back in, enjoying the peace and quiet of a place to focused on education, and pensiveness. The kind of space he was so rarely around, these days. Most days, he felt there was nothing but action and loud music and car sirens and gunfire in his life. He could do for a little peace and quiet, quite frankly. Maybe even a bit of honest study. 

He’d taken a moment flipping through a research book someone had left out on one of the tables about ancient Greece, when someone addressed him and he looked up.

He smiles gently at the kind face—big brown eyes as inviting as his turned down brows and puppy dog pout—but he frowned as well. Because he wasn’t sure how to process that kind of question. How he should feel about it. Was it cute? Amusing? Depressing? Morbid? 

“I... imagine they probably wouldn’t,” he said gently, warmth in his tone and on his face. “Maybe they celebrate death days. Somewhere out there. Not in the same way the living would—but like it was the beginning of a life better than this one.” He shrugged. “What do you think?” 

[kato-wolf]

ryan-parker‌:

kato-wolf‌:

He’s been alone for what feels like days. Lost in a blur of daily and nightly Somnium. He’s hardly been anything else. Approaching a place where he feels like he could forget Kato, maybe even for weeks at a time. Patrolling all day, stalking thugs all night. Coming home drenched and exhausted just as the sun is kissing the horizon. Time enough to drown himself in a scalding, long shower, then trip over his peeled-off Somnium gear and fall face down into his covers.

Getting up to do it all over again four hours later.

He’s taken some time off work—at Rouge, that is. Had done so in a desperation to throw himself into a job he’d more or less been born into. One that had shaped the man he’d grown up to be, influenced his life as both Kato and the shadow of a spritely, spirited boy. A shadow he’d called Somnium, a long time ago.

It might have been his unsettling run-in with an old friend, now enemy—someone calling herself Nightingale—who’d incidentally managed to strip away layers of his carefully crafted armour, like a whittler does a length of cedar or pine. He’d watched the shavings fall, fresh and aromatic at his feet, and woken the next day, a little more numbed than before.

Or it could have been his father—the anniversary of his death always leaves a mark in Kato, leaves him less himself for a few days of the week leading up to his annual trip to the man’s grave. But never had it lingered in him this long. Never had he hidden away in the safety of Somnium’s masked guard, to escape Kato’s youthful and optimistic vulnerability. It was safer here, in an unrecognized hero’s lair.

But in all honesty, it was likely a combination of the lot. One thing after another compounding until he’d woken one hour in the middle of a cold night and been reduced to running from his own weakness. Just like that, in a blink of an eye, he’d resorted to keeping himself busy in the shell of a person who was both familiar and foreign. Both fabricated and innate. Somnium. Like a reoccurring lucid dream.

He’s sitting on the floor of a fire escape about twelve stories up an apartment building in the middle of downtown. The city lights glitter, mesmerizing and reflective in his gaze, and as his legs swing the edge, sinewy arms folded over the middle horizontal bar, he lets sparks jump over his knuckles in an undulating wave—like a surreal version of rolling a coin over the backs of your fingers. A supernatural parlour trick. He does it absently, from one hand, to the next, and back again, hardly paying it any attention as he looks instead out over the city’s horizon, watching flashing lights dart to and fro, listening to the echo of wailing sirens. It would seem, that no matter how much crime he fights or prevents, the city never fails to provide, time and time again. Is it all pointless then, he wonders? All of this vigilante business? Is there an end to this unwinnable battle they’d all signed up for?

He hears the approach, but doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t bother to move at all. At this hour, this high up the side of a building, it’s likely a vigilante, anyway. And if not—well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

As the shadow nears him, standing and leaning on the railing next to him, he looks over slightly, at a set of legs, but doesn’t have the energy to look up at them from where he sits. He turns his face away again.

“Nice night for some building scaling, is it?”

That night the moon wasn’t full, no, otherwise she wouldn’t have been there, rather running off in the woods, hoping that she wouldn’t wake up covered in someone else’s blood. But it was getting close–three days and she’d have to make the painful transformation yet again. However, as the full moon closed in on her, her strength and her senses heightened, and it was these days that she was at her strongest–well in her human form at least. Cool air pushed past her hair, as she pulled the half mask down for a moment, breathing in all the smells of the coming winter. The change of season had been hard on them, with Nathan’s lungs not adjusting well to the cold. She knew it was going to be a long transition for him, and she could only pray it wouldn’t land him another hospital visit that they couldn’t afford. 

A scent catches her nostrils, causing the hair on her arms to raise in small goosebumps. It wasn’t often that she came across others while scaling the rooftops. It was a good vantage point for scoping out trouble, and it also kept her relatively away from others. That night however, the smell of someone else prompted her to pull the cover back up over the bottom half of her face, eyes scanning towards it’s owner. It was familiar, someone she’d come across before. Shoes crunch against the roof of the building as she approaches, making her presence known. Eyes landed on the figure in the dark, her wolf senses allowing her to see better than most through the night. 

“It is.” She keeps her voice lower and even. “Haven’t seen you around for a while, Sparky.” She recognized the other vigilante, they’d come across each other a few times in the past while prowling the night. While she’d never considered herself much of a vigilante, the general public had branded her as one, christening her with the name Onyx. Really it was just an excuse for her to work off some of the pent up energy and anger that she harboured and take it out on assholes. 

He’d have recognized her even if he hadn’t seen her. He’d have recognized her had he not been able to place her voice, even. Because ‘Sparky’ was a name she’d coined for him when they’d met—somewhere on the streets of Ceres, while putting a stop to some crime or another... it was all a blur, these days. Kato’s years here had been long—Somnium’s had been longer. Time tended to blink by when you spent so much of it tackling seemingly endless city trouble. Not that Somnium objected to being kept busy... he had left the Guild for a reason. Had set out on his own to do good—and so that’s what he’s doing. Apparently, Ceres was a good place to end up for it, too. 

He’d crossed paths with her enough to know she was known as Onyx. And though he knew very little about her story, he knew she was some kind of mutant of sorts—no one wandering around at night, in all the wrong places at all the right times, was ever just... up to nothing. Whatever she was, or whatever she did or could do, she certainly wasn’t just the manager of a coffee shop. 

Because he’d recognized her from that too. A frequent customer at Grounded, Kato had seen her plenty of times—talked to her even. But so far, they’d only crossed paths outside of the cafe as Somnium, and at this point, he’s not sure if she’s ever made the connection that she’s met him in his civies, too. It’s possible, of course—his disguise certainly isn’t fool proof, nor is it intended to be. But his mask and hood hides enough from distances that it’s enough for his purposes. With his voice slightly lowered, his personality more subdued, he has yet to have simple acquaintances figure it out on their own. It’s when they become closer than that, spend time with him as either alter-ego, that they start to piece it together. And being in Ceres... that’s not as big of a deal as it had been when he’d been back home. Back home, it’d been too dangerous. Here it’s... well, it’s still arguable, but it’s different. Here, there are so many gifted individuals, it’s almost a given. 

He shifted her a brief smirk—a breathy, somewhat humourless chuckle. “Yeah. It has. Maybe I was trying to evade you long enough for you to forget the nickname,” he drawled. But it was a tease, and with it he grinned again. Slightly more real. 

lucid dream | open starter

[kato-wolf]

caerulece‌:

“You ever feel like you missed almost an entire month of your life?” Cerulean asked aloud absentmindedly, “Like you blinked and everything just passed by in the blink of an eye?” Ever since the incident with Jegudiel, Cerulean barely heard any whispers from the Heavens. Which was fine with him, honestly.  As far as he was concerned, they crossed the line when they sent Jegudiel to take over without his permission. Worse was they didn’t even get anything done. Cerulean sighed, “Before we know it, the year’ll be over.”

“Constantly,” Kato replied with a small grin, and a sigh to match. “But I suppose that’s what happens in a city like Ceres... people everywhere just... too busy saving the world to remember to live, right?” 

[kato-wolf]

anhthenme‌:

“you’re right, people falling isn’t too blog-worthy,” anh said and giggled after she did.  as she straightened herself out, she looked up at the man.  a breath of relief came from her as he said she hadn’t hit him, “thank goodness.  i’m glad.”  she shook her head, “oh, yeah.  i’m fine.  this is actually very normal for me!  i get all wrapped up in my own thoughts and forget that i should be paying attention when i’m waking sometimes.”  she shrugged sheepishly at him.  “but i am a-okay!”  she gave him a thumbs up as a stamp of approval.  “oh, i hope i didn’t distract you from where you were going or anything.”

His brows lifted a bit, smiling. She certainly was chipper, wasn’t she? “Oh? And what is it that has you so preoccupied? If I might ask..?” He grinned. Maybe it was a bit too forward a question—one she might diffuse and afraid considering he was a complete stranger. But her attitude and the situation sort of begged the question. 

“And not to worry—I wasn’t going anywhere important—at least, not in a hurry. Glad you’re alright. I’m Kato, by the way.” 

[kato-wolf]

[kato-wolf]

kieran-whittard‌:

He wasn’t slow. He’d been told never to call himself or let anyone else call him slow. But it had taken Kieran a few minutes to realise this guy might be an actual vigilante. It was the mask and the hood that gave it away really. Kier had fought alongside plenty of powered people since he moved to Ceres but none who were organised or established enough to have a costume. Most of them just wore hoodies, and then the hoods always fell down. Kieran looked down at himself, at his trainers and joggers and hoodie and realised he really didn’t look the part. Not that he’d planned to do any hero work tonight, it just, would’ve been nice. 

It was hard to get a measure on the guy when he was so covered up though. And Kieran couldn’t exactly use his nose on a random stranger, it would look too weird. So he was stuck trying to suss him out like a normal person, being a human must be so annoying, he thought. “Cool, thanks.” Kieran nodded, leaning over the rails with crossed arms, careful to keep his eyes on the other man. He chuckled at the other’s comment, trying not to let his sudden nervousness show. “So, uh, what do I call you? Emo Robin Hood?”

The spark he’d been rolling around over his fingers was just over top of his middle knuckle again when it stopped—and went out. The question from the other about ‘Emo Robin Hood’ made Somnium laugh—not quite full, not quite bark-like or carefree, but definitely real, and surprised enough to not be wrapped up as tightly or as neatly as the rest of Somnium’s mood at the moment. And so in his hit of amusement and dash of a smile, he let the zap of electricity sort of puff out, disappear, back under his skin, sucked back into his pores where it lingered, vibrating in anticipation to be free again, to be launched somewhere, powering something. 

“Please, call me anything but that,” he replied, throwing a smile up the other’s way. “Somnium.” A pause. “And who knows, maybe one day you’ll call me something else. Maybe you won’t even know it.” As in, maybe one day he’d know the kid well enough to share his true identity with him. Or maybe one day they’d meet on a completely other occasion, and he’d introduce himself as Kato and this young man would say ‘it’s nice to meet you’, thinking it were the first time. And Kato would smile, echo the sentiment, and pretend he did as well. Or maybe not. 

“And yourself? What do I call you?” he asked, calm and stoic, but with warmth in his tone. 

lucid dream | open starter

[kato-wolf]

anhthenme‌:

if there was one thing anh was good at, it was clearly not being able to balance anything.  the teen’s mind had been distracted by many things which was exactly why she missed one of her steps and became acquainted with the ground.  way to go, anh.  she dusted off her jeans as she picked herself up.  slowly looking up at the person in front of her, she apologized, “i hope didn’t accidentally hit you or anything!”  gently, she bit her lip and tried to give a smile back, “someone falling down seems to be less surprising than some of the other things that have happened in ceres, right?”

Kato reached for her reflexively—and quick as his reflexes were, she was already hitting the steps by the time his long-fingered hands wrapped around her forearm. It’d been an insufficiently timed attempt to break her fall—but what he could do, at least, was help her up. 

He offered her a small smile as she dusted herself off and seemed to try to talk through her embarrassment. “I don’t even think it makes the board, for surprising things,” he replied. “But you’re fine—you didn’t hit me. Though I’d be more concerned about you, considering you’re the one who fell. You’re alright?” 

[kato-wolf]

@aerokinetical​

“Of all the bright ideas that I’ve ever had, I think having a no-cover fee Halloween bash is borderline between genius and stupid,” Graham said, followed with a hearty laugh.  The Rhapsody Club’s owner had been toying with that idea and never made the decision until after all of the recent events.  The club’s soft opening had happened but the Grand Opening had to be drawn back a few times - the first time, he didn’t want to coincide with the soiree and the second was due to the immense amount of …strange that occurred after the soiree’s robbery occurred.  This time, Halloween seemed like a good time.  After all, the city was full of masked heroes and villains, why not shine some time for that?  He grinned as he looked over, “Think you’d want to make an appearance?”

Kato had accidentally become a bit of a boy bar star—but not precisely for the reasons you might think. Okay, perhaps for some of those reasons. 

Mostly though, it was that when you worked at a club, most of your friends were coworkers and customers... people who knew other club-staff, or who’d bartended other places, or who frequented the night life of the city on a regular basis. People talked, and social circles overlapped, and considering Kato had little time in his life for much other than his work as Somnium, and his second night job as a bartender at Rouge, the club community was sort of the only non-vigilante thing he knew in Ceres. 

Having been in the city for going on three years, he’d met Graham a few years back, and had been around to support during the opening of Rhapsody. He was familiar enough with the man to be friendly, and found him charming, and his ambition admirable. 

“I’d say it’s probably a safe mixture of both,” he replied with a grin. “I do not envy your doorman, on a night like that.” Halloween was nuts in the city, every year. Be it club crowds hopping between establishments, or young people getting drunk in the streets... or crime and theft and vandalism breaking out on every single fucking corner, because everyone figured they could blame the full moon—be it any or all of the above, Halloween was not Kato’s favourite night to be working. Don’t get him wrong, he liked the holiday well enough, and liked the buzz of enthusiasm in the streets when everyone was high on spooky stories and a childhood nostalgia for the chilly and crisp time of year, but he just preferred not to have to be serving drinks in the chaos. 

Besides, he usually booked it off knowing he’d be far more needed out on the streets, as Somnium, than he would be behind a bar as a gregarious blond sweetheart at a gay bar. 

“But yeah, I think I could be suckered into that,” he teased. “But very serious question—” he took a dramatic pause, but the grin on his face gave him away. “Is there a costume contest?” 

[kato-wolf]

ambervc13‌:

“Surprising,” Amber responded with mild interest. Her attention went to restoring the portal transportation back to its compact form - two thin silver bangles that hung on her wrists casually. She looked back at him, “So, you spend your nights sitting on the fire escape, watching over the city like a gargoyle?” Amber laughed with amusement as she swung her bag over her chest. She opened up her knapsack and casually peered into it to secure the contents of her bag. Once she was content that everything was still present, she swung her bag back onto its back. 

“Here’s a tip for you, Somnium,” Amber decided to help out, “Some jackass has been kidnapping people, not for ransom but to let them out as experiments or some crackpot reason.” Amber shrugged, “You should look into that.”

He sort of half paid attention to her absent-minded shuffling. Mostly, his gaze was turned out towards the city, but he caught a bit of it—the silver bangles around her wrists, which he’d sworn he’d just seen... he wasn’t sure. Something—and he glanced up at her at her comment about the gargoyle. He had the humility to grin a bit, shake his head. Sigh. 

“Not generally,” he said honestly. “It’s just... a tough week.” And then she said his name—his alter-ego name, which was admittedly less surprising than it would have been had she addressed him by his real name, but it still made clear blue eyes cut up to hers in a surprised flick. And on second thought, he wasn’t sure why, because it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to being recognized at this point. His Somnium silhouette was recognizable enough, and he’d been around a long time—especially to those who’d known of his parents. Being recognized wasn’t new. But he hadn’t really recognized her, and so he hadn’t expected it. Or perhaps he’d been too lost in thought to expect it, and her mention of his name was rattling. Sent him crashing back to earth. 

He hesitated a bit as he processed the information through his distraction over her addressing him by name. “I—you know me then,” he said. Dumbly, he realized, and wished he could take it back. Fuck. He really wasn’t himself right now. Or on his game. He tried to shake the feeling, reground. “And I’m sorry—kidnappings to... let them out as experiments? What do you mean?” 

lucid dream | open starter

[kato-wolf]

kieran-whittard‌:

kato-wolf‌:

He’s been alone for what feels like days. Lost in a blur of daily and nightly Somnium. He’s hardly been anything else. Approaching a place where he feels like he could forget Kato, maybe even for weeks at a time. Patrolling all day, stalking thugs all night. Coming home drenched and exhausted just as the sun is kissing the horizon. Time enough to drown himself in a scalding, long shower, then trip over his peeled-off Somnium gear and fall face down into his covers.

Getting up to do it all over again four hours later.

He’s taken some time off work—at Rouge, that is. Had done so in a desperation to throw himself into a job he’d more or less been born into. One that had shaped the man he’d grown up to be, influenced his life as both Kato and the shadow of a spritely, spirited boy. A shadow he’d called Somnium, a long time ago.

It might have been his unsettling run-in with an old friend, now enemy—someone calling herself Nightingale—who’d incidentally managed to strip away layers of his carefully crafted armour, like a whittler does a length of cedar or pine. He’d watched the shavings fall, fresh and aromatic at his feet, and woken the next day, a little more numbed than before.

Or it could have been his father—the anniversary of his death always leaves a mark in Kato, leaves him less himself for a few days of the week leading up to his annual trip to the man’s grave. But never had it lingered in him this long. Never had he hidden away in the safety of Somnium’s masked guard, to escape Kato’s youthful and optimistic vulnerability. It was safer here, in an unrecognized hero’s lair.

But in all honesty, it was likely a combination of the lot. One thing after another compounding until he’d woken one hour in the middle of a cold night and been reduced to running from his own weakness. Just like that, in a blink of an eye, he’d resorted to keeping himself busy in the shell of a person who was both familiar and foreign. Both fabricated and innate. Somnium. Like a reoccurring lucid dream.

He’s sitting on the floor of a fire escape about twelve stories up an apartment building in the middle of downtown. The city lights glitter, mesmerizing and reflective in his gaze, and as his legs swing the edge, sinewy arms folded over the middle horizontal bar, he lets sparks jump over his knuckles in an undulating wave—like a surreal version of rolling a coin over the backs of your fingers. A supernatural parlour trick. He does it absently, from one hand, to the next, and back again, hardly paying it any attention as he looks instead out over the city’s horizon, watching flashing lights dart to and fro, listening to the echo of wailing sirens. It would seem, that no matter how much crime he fights or prevents, the city never fails to provide, time and time again. Is it all pointless then, he wonders? All of this vigilante business? Is there an end to this unwinnable battle they’d all signed up for?

He hears the approach, but doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t bother to move at all. At this hour, this high up the side of a building, it’s likely a vigilante, anyway. And if not—well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

As the shadow nears him, standing and leaning on the railing next to him, he looks over slightly, at a set of legs, but doesn’t have the energy to look up at them from where he sits. He turns his face away again.

“Nice night for some building scaling, is it?”

Maybe this wasn’t exactly what Clementine had in mind when she told Kieran he needed to make some more friends. Yeah, she probably just wanted him to talk somehow else at the Academy for once. She definitely hadn’t guessed that he’d climb a building instead at some ridiculous time that Kieran would never admit to. But now it definitely counted as socialising, cause this guy happened to be here as well. Kieran couldn’t think of another reason why someone would be on this fire escape, but he hoped it wasn’t for a fight, he was way too tired for a fight. “Yeah, I figure fresh air’s good for you, so thought I might as well.” Kier answered as he leaned against the railing, talking casually as if they weren’t several stories up. “I’m not stealing your spot or anything am I?” He sincerely hoped he said no, Kieran didn’t want to face the awkward encounter that would ensue if he had to turn on his heels and find another building to sit on.

Somnium had no expectations of who might be approaching him, had made no assumptions aside from the likelihood of them being someone he wouldn’t have to explain his abilities to—or his purpose for being on a fire escape in the middle of the night. 

So he wasn’t necessarily surprised by the young man’s face, but there was something about the openness on it, the earnestness, that made Somnium look twice. 

The young man was handsome—strikingly so—youthful and inviting. And he spoke with a casualness about him that Somnium appreciated—that Kato would have appreciated more. He wished, suddenly but somewhat bleakly, that he was feeling more himself for this interaction, because on any other night he might have felt buoyantly pleased about the company. 

For now, he is  contentedly not displeased, and hopes that’s enough. 

“You’re not stealing anything,” he replied, a casual shake of his head. “Free world, after all.” He looked over at him, and from behind his mask and the shadow of his hood, he offered a flicker of a smile. “And you’re more than welcome to share it with me.” There he was. That familiar self he knew, making a bit of an appearance.

lucid dream | open starter

[kato-wolf]

belevine‌:

kato-wolf‌:

He’s been alone for what feels like days. Lost in a blur of daily and nightly Somnium. He’s hardly been anything else. Approaching a place where he feels like he could forget Kato, maybe even for weeks at a time. Patrolling all day, stalking thugs all night. Coming home drenched and exhausted just as the sun is kissing the horizon. Time enough to drown himself in a scalding, long shower, then trip over his peeled-off Somnium gear and fall face down into his covers.

Getting up to do it all over again four hours later.

He’s taken some time off work—at Rouge, that is. Had done so in a desperation to throw himself into a job he’d more or less been born into. One that had shaped the man he’d grown up to be, influenced his life as both Kato and the shadow of a spritely, spirited boy. A shadow he’d called Somnium, a long time ago.

It might have been his unsettling run-in with an old friend, now enemy—someone calling herself Nightingale—who’d incidentally managed to strip away layers of his carefully crafted armour, like a whittler does a length of cedar or pine. He’d watched the shavings fall, fresh and aromatic at his feet, and woken the next day, a little more numbed than before.

Or it could have been his father—the anniversary of his death always leaves a mark in Kato, leaves him less himself for a few days of the week leading up to his annual trip to the man’s grave. But never had it lingered in him this long. Never had he hidden away in the safety of Somnium’s masked guard, to escape Kato’s youthful and optimistic vulnerability. It was safer here, in an unrecognized hero’s lair.

But in all honesty, it was likely a combination of the lot. One thing after another compounding until he’d woken one hour in the middle of a cold night and been reduced to running from his own weakness. Just like that, in a blink of an eye, he’d resorted to keeping himself busy in the shell of a person who was both familiar and foreign. Both fabricated and innate. Somnium. Like a reoccurring lucid dream.

He’s sitting on the floor of a fire escape about twelve stories up an apartment building in the middle of downtown. The city lights glitter, mesmerizing and reflective in his gaze, and as his legs swing the edge, sinewy arms folded over the middle horizontal bar, he lets sparks jump over his knuckles in an undulating wave—like a surreal version of rolling a coin over the backs of your fingers. A supernatural parlour trick. He does it absently, from one hand, to the next, and back again, hardly paying it any attention as he looks instead out over the city’s horizon, watching flashing lights dart to and fro, listening to the echo of wailing sirens. It would seem, that no matter how much crime he fights or prevents, the city never fails to provide, time and time again. Is it all pointless then, he wonders? All of this vigilante business? Is there an end to this unwinnable battle they’d all signed up for?

He hears the approach, but doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t bother to move at all. At this hour, this high up the side of a building, it’s likely a vigilante, anyway. And if not—well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

As the shadow nears him, standing and leaning on the railing next to him, he looks over slightly, at a set of legs, but doesn’t have the energy to look up at them from where he sits. He turns his face away again.

“Nice night for some building scaling, is it?”

The passing nights had not sat well with Hyperion.  Between those artifacts still on the loose and the recent failed experimentations that have started to show up more, he wasn’t sure if the night would ever sit well with him at this point.  Hyperion flew from building to building, his eyes scanned the ground beneath him as he did.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but in Ceres Centropolis, that usually meant that something was wrong.  There was a hope that he’d run into The Huntsman again and they could reconvene about their search for the mysterious creatures, but that wasn’t the case.  It as a quiet night.

Hyperion’s flight from one building to the next stopped at the fire escape of one of them.  He turned to his side to catch the glimpse of another masked hero.  Somnium wasn’t a new hero to the city, but Hyperion hadn’t had the chance to mingle with him yet.  Tonight might have just turned into a good night.

“Building scaling is fun,” Hyperion chuckled as he approached the man.  “But I will admit, I’ll stick to my flight ability over that.”  He shrugged and then held a hand out to offer a handshake to the other masked man.  “Hyperion.  It’s good to finally meet you.”

Kato was used to being recognized—as Somnium, that is. As Kato, he was little more than a blond, blue-eyed optimist. A friendly face and a cute smile at a gay bar, good for a drink, a laugh. A nobody, more or less, and he liked it that way. 

But Somnium was known and had been for years. Somnium was known as an heir, the son of parents who had been heroes to many, had paved the way for his future before he was even born. 

And so although he wasn’t surprised necessarily, by the way the man who approached seemed to know him, the handshake was more formal than he’d been expecting in his here and now, and the sentiment warmer, more specific. It’s good to finally meet you. 

He looked inside himself for that smile so often on the edges of Kato’s lips. He looked for that person he’d been suffocating the past couple nights, too weary and bone tired to have the courage to face him. And for a moment, he found enough of him to muster a half smile—weak, but genuine enough. It would have to do. 

“Finally, hey? Well, that certainly sounds like the kind of flattery I won’t reject.” He grinned a bit, glanced back out to the city. “Hyperion. Sounds familiar—and to what do I owe this pleasure?”

lucid dream | open starter

[kato-wolf]

ambervc13‌:

kato-wolf‌:

He’s been alone for what feels like days. Lost in a blur of daily and nightly Somnium. He’s hardly been anything else. Approaching a place where he feels like he could forget Kato, maybe even for weeks at a time. Patrolling all day, stalking thugs all night. Coming home drenched and exhausted just as the sun is kissing the horizon. Time enough to drown himself in a scalding, long shower, then trip over his peeled-off Somnium gear and fall face down into his covers.

Getting up to do it all over again four hours later.

He’s taken some time off work—at Rouge, that is. Had done so in a desperation to throw himself into a job he’d more or less been born into. One that had shaped the man he’d grown up to be, influenced his life as both Kato and the shadow of a spritely, spirited boy. A shadow he’d called Somnium, a long time ago.

It might have been his unsettling run-in with an old friend, now enemy—someone calling herself Nightingale—who’d incidentally managed to strip away layers of his carefully crafted armour, like a whittler does a length of cedar or pine. He’d watched the shavings fall, fresh and aromatic at his feet, and woken the next day, a little more numbed than before.

Or it could have been his father—the anniversary of his death always leaves a mark in Kato, leaves him less himself for a few days of the week leading up to his annual trip to the man’s grave. But never had it lingered in him this long. Never had he hidden away in the safety of Somnium’s masked guard, to escape Kato’s youthful and optimistic vulnerability. It was safer here, in an unrecognized hero’s lair.

But in all honesty, it was likely a combination of the lot. One thing after another compounding until he’d woken one hour in the middle of a cold night and been reduced to running from his own weakness. Just like that, in a blink of an eye, he’d resorted to keeping himself busy in the shell of a person who was both familiar and foreign. Both fabricated and innate. Somnium. Like a reoccurring lucid dream.

He’s sitting on the floor of a fire escape about twelve stories up an apartment building in the middle of downtown. The city lights glitter, mesmerizing and reflective in his gaze, and as his legs swing the edge, sinewy arms folded over the middle horizontal bar, he lets sparks jump over his knuckles in an undulating wave—like a surreal version of rolling a coin over the backs of your fingers. A supernatural parlour trick. He does it absently, from one hand, to the next, and back again, hardly paying it any attention as he looks instead out over the city’s horizon, watching flashing lights dart to and fro, listening to the echo of wailing sirens. It would seem, that no matter how much crime he fights or prevents, the city never fails to provide, time and time again. Is it all pointless then, he wonders? All of this vigilante business? Is there an end to this unwinnable battle they’d all signed up for?

He hears the approach, but doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t bother to move at all. At this hour, this high up the side of a building, it’s likely a vigilante, anyway. And if not—well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

As the shadow nears him, standing and leaning on the railing next to him, he looks over slightly, at a set of legs, but doesn’t have the energy to look up at them from where he sits. He turns his face away again.

“Nice night for some building scaling, is it?”

Amber had decided a long time ago to stop explaining herself to people. Most of the explanations she could offer always sounded so farfetched and over the top; it was annoying having to explain that when she said that she had traversed through an alternate dimension to extract a stone from an colony hidden in the mountains …she really did do just that. The scientist wasn’t in the mood to share much, not with anyone if she was honest.

The portal’s opening echoed through the air, the sliced through with silence of the night. It came out as a soft whirring that sliced through the metal, tapping through the night sky and then Amber landed from the portal. As the sound of her heels landed against the metal frame of the fire escape, Amber stretched her arms upward and let out a yawn. “What a boring trip,” she muttered to herself as she covered her mouth with her hand, another yawn came out of her. “I thought that there’d be something interesting there, but it was too easy.”

The annoyance of the mundane trip was silenced as Amber caught the glimpse of another person on the fire escape. She turned to face the figure, another one of those vigilantes that seemed to span the entirety of the city. The scientist was tired and while she would have happily told off the hero, she was curious what he was in the midst of scoping out.

“It’s the same sort of night as it is every night,” Amber replied as she looked over to him, “You find any criminals you’re ready to take apart? Or you gonna hunt down those failed genetic experiments that are running around?”

There was something off about her arrival. He hadn’t seen it, but he’d felt it. In the air, hovering around him like static electricity, making his skin tingle, the hair on his neck stand on end. 

But he didn’t think too much on it. Didn’t have the energy to wonder, and at this point, he was accustomed to living in a city of anomalies. There was nothing more unusual about her than there was about half this place’s population. Nothing surprised him anymore, hardly anything made him question. 

He wondered if there was something wrong with that. If he’d wake up one day and realize he’d lost his ability to wonder, the joy of his own curiosity. 

Though, perhaps, that was just his mood talking. He had never considered himself a cynical person, and hoped never to become one. 

He glanced up at her, before giving a slight shake of his head, and looking back out towards the horizon, letting his vision blur, the city lights bleed together like the back focus of pretty pictures. “Not tonight. Can’t say I’m much in the mood for taking anyone apart. Yourself?” 

lucid dream | open starter

[kato-wolf]

lucid dream | open starter

He’s been alone for what feels like days. Lost in a blur of daily and nightly Somnium. He’s hardly been anything else. Approaching a place where he feels like he could forget Kato, maybe even for weeks at a time. Patrolling all day, stalking thugs all night. Coming home drenched and exhausted just as the sun is kissing the horizon. Time enough to drown himself in a scalding, long shower, then trip over his peeled-off Somnium gear and fall face down into his covers.

Getting up to do it all over again four hours later.

He’s taken some time off work—at Rouge, that is. Had done so in a desperation to throw himself into a job he’d more or less been born into. One that had shaped the man he’d grown up to be, influenced his life as both Kato and the shadow of a spritely, spirited boy. A shadow he’d called Somnium, a long time ago.

It might have been his unsettling run-in with an old friend, now enemy—someone calling herself Nightingale—who’d incidentally managed to strip away layers of his carefully crafted armour, like a whittler does a length of cedar or pine. He’d watched the shavings fall, fresh and aromatic at his feet, and woken the next day, a little more numbed than before.

Or it could have been his father—the anniversary of his death always leaves a mark in Kato, leaves him less himself for a few days of the week leading up to his annual trip to the man’s grave. But never had it lingered in him this long. Never had he hidden away in the safety of Somnium’s masked guard, to escape Kato’s youthful and optimistic vulnerability. It was safer here, in an unrecognized hero’s lair.

But in all honesty, it was likely a combination of the lot. One thing after another compounding until he’d woken one hour in the middle of a cold night and been reduced to running from his own weakness. Just like that, in a blink of an eye, he’d resorted to keeping himself busy in the shell of a person who was both familiar and foreign. Both fabricated and innate. Somnium. Like a reoccurring lucid dream.

He’s sitting on the floor of a fire escape about twelve stories up an apartment building in the middle of downtown. The city lights glitter, mesmerizing and reflective in his gaze, and as his legs swing the edge, sinewy arms folded over the middle horizontal bar, he lets sparks jump over his knuckles in an undulating wave—like a surreal version of rolling a coin over the backs of your fingers. A supernatural parlour trick. He does it absently, from one hand, to the next, and back again, hardly paying it any attention as he looks instead out over the city’s horizon, watching flashing lights dart to and fro, listening to the echo of wailing sirens. It would seem, that no matter how much crime he fights or prevents, the city never fails to provide, time and time again. Is it all pointless then, he wonders? All of this vigilante business? Is there an end to this unwinnable battle they’d all signed up for?

He hears the approach, but doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t bother to move at all. At this hour, this high up the side of a building, it’s likely a vigilante, anyway. And if not—well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

As the shadow nears him, standing and leaning on the railing next to him, he looks over slightly, at a set of legs, but doesn’t have the energy to look up at them from where he sits. He turns his face away again.

“Nice night for some building scaling, is it?”

[kato-wolf]

Send ❂ for a like headcanon.

Send ✄ for a favorite movie of my muse’s.

Send ✚ for one of my muse’s prized possessions.

Send ✿ for a happy memory.

Send ♡ for a friendship headcanon.

Send ♬ for a childhood headcanon.

Send ☼ for a dream headcanon.

Send ♧ for a cooking headcanon.

Send ❧ for a food headcanon.

Send ★ for a talent headcanon.

Send ❀ for a crush my muse has had.

Send △ for a sex headcanon.

Send ➷ for a sports headcanon.

Send ♤ for a ‘dislike’ headcanon.

Send ♆ for something my muse hates.

Send ⊗ for a phobia headcanon.

Send ☾ for a sleep headcanon.

Send ✜ for a fear headcanon.

Send ☠ for a death headcanon.

Send ◊ for a headcanon of the mun’s choice.

[kato-wolf]

Questions for Super-Powered Muses

How did you get your powers?

What are your powers?

Do you try to keep your powers a secret?

What’s your favorite thing about having your powers?

What’s the thing you hate most about your powers?

If you could, would you choose to not have powers?

Are there any powers you wished you had instead of the ones you have?

Best thing you’ve ever done with your powers?

Worst thing you’ve ever done with your powers?

How did you discover your powers?

Has anyone else learned of your powers?

Is there anyone you wish you could reveal your powers to but can’t?

What are the limits to your powers?

Do you see your powers as a blessing or a curse?

Have you ever used your powers to save someone? 

Have you ever used your powers to scare someone?

Have you ever used your powers to hurt someone?

Have you ever accidentally hurt someone with your powers?

Do you consider your powers dangerous?

Do you consider yourself dangerous? 

Do your powers prevent you from living a “normal” life? 

[kato-wolf]

celcstivls‌:

revan hadn’t been out in a while, so it was time for that to change. she was well-rested enough after the chaos from the aftermath of the invasion, so she figured it was time to go out there and see if there were any cultists left in town. she was sure a lot of them would have been taken out by now, but there were always a few - and she wasn’t going to let them go. she got to one of their old hideouts and waited. “it took you long enough.” she smiled under her mask at the man nearing her.

@kato-wolf​

Though the worst of the most recent chaos in ceres had passed, there was still lots of clean up to do, what with lurking cultists left behind. He was out on another nightly patrol, when he’d gotten Revan’s message on his vigilante-only cell. 

She’d asked if Somnium was out tonight, and if he wanted to join her for the evening. Which he’d agreed to without hesitation. At this point, he didn’t know her well, but he’d worked with her a couple of times, has seen her out on patrols plenty, and he liked her company. She was sweet and optimistic, and made the sometimes-lonely nights int he city a little less so. 

He smirked at her comment as he approached. “Hey, you didn’t give me much notice. Besides, you’re only impatient because you missed me, admit it.” 

[kato-wolf]

desmond-wicker‌:

Adrenaline ran high as bodies slammed together, rioting on the dance floor of the night club. Des danced among them, his tall wiry frame flailing in an intoxicated state, sweat beading on his skin. He danced as he always did, like the world would end if he didn’t give it his all. The songs changed, the rhythm shifting and his body fell out of beat. He hadn’t been in the city that long, but he’d made a few friends, or rather, a few drunken acquaintances. Pushing through the bodies, he slammed a bill down on the bar–some of the money he’d nicked off an old bloke, ordering two shots of tequila. His eyes shift to the person beside him, and Des smiles, giving them a wink and holding up one of the shots. “ ’ello gorgeous, fancy a shot?” 

He was just getting off work—and currently nestled somewhere between dreading starting his late night patrol of the city as Somnium, and looking forward to it. In many senses, it was freeing, and it gave him a sense of ambition, motivation. Made him feel like he had purpose, and gave him something to focus on. 

He liked helping people. Liked being able to say he was doing what he could to make the world a better place, small though his contribution might have been. He also liked being able to go to sleep at night (well, the nights he did sleep, anyway) knowing that, with any luck, he was making his father proud. Keeping his memory alive.

And so often, he summoned energy no sane human should have, even after a long and busy shift at the bar. But tonight he was feeling both energized and unmotivated. Like he wanted to do something, but he’d rather do something maybe risky, or reckless or just for himself—whatever that may be. 

He was standing at the bar waiting for his coworker to pass him his tips for the night and when a tall and wiry bar-goer next to him held a shot glass up with a friendly smile and a wink. 

Kato did what came natural—grinned back. Wide and cherub like, raising a brow in the stranger’s direction. “Well hello to you too, handsome—” and handsome he was. All cheekbones and black ink—a shot of raven’s nest hair. “And you know what, I think I’ve earned it, so I might do just that...” He reached for the glass being offered to him, motioned to cheers the other’s glass. “Not that I should be kicking a gift horse in the mouth, but did you not buy this for someone in particular? Or yourself, even? Or are you just.. spectacularly generous?”