#her having that steel and that capability for violence and wrath and the kind of calculation that allows her to kill a man

[pachyderm-matchmaker]

this show is driving me fucking CRAZY i loved every part of it except sally jackson which is RIDICULOUS because they made sally jackson the moral heart of it and leaned in to "everything percy is is because of her" and i WANTED that i LOVE that but then sally herself is?? just??? okay hold on spoilers

i've seen people say that they really appreciate that in this version sally doesn't have to be a doormat who just quietly suffers for her son's sake, and i GET that, i do! i appreciate that!!! not every mother's story should be about endless self-sacrifice!

but sally's WASN'T!!!

it was a story about a scared single mother who ended up in a bad situation and didn't know how to get out, and when she's given the opportunity she fucking TAKES IT!!!

and there are things about the show sally that i like! she isn't constantly cooking gabe food, she doesn't have to say it was selfish to keep her son near her, we see her argue with percy because she struggled and wasn't perfect she was a young single mom, she honks in traffic and gets road rage! i like all of that!!

but i just...

i really, REALLY miss her choosing to kill her abusive husband using medusa's head.

and honestly, i could talk about how goddamn INCREDIBLE of a character choice it was to have a mother who is willing to kill, explicitly out of revenge instead of just to protect her son, while simultaneously being the epitome of a loving mother who teaches her son to do BETTER than just dealing violence and to think about who the real monsters are, and to choose love and responsibility and care!

i could talk about how cool it is that she stops percy from killing gabe not because he "shouldn't kill" but because it needs to be her choice.

i could RANT about how important it is for the story to explicitly have her make the choice to kill him for hurting her, rather than it happening by chance because gabe's the kind of asshole to steal mail, or happening in a way that lets people say "poseidon put that there he took care of gabe for sally lol"--

but she already said it best!

"If my life is going to mean anything i have to live it myself."

and it really really sucks that the show took that away from her

[twin-branded]

The fall of the light, the start of the endless night

// Large piece of backstory writing under the read more! Warning: It is graphic, and I dare say not for the faint of heart. Big TWs for violence, heavy gore, and slow death, take caution friends! To those of you who press on, hope you enjoy~

- Mod Nova

This was it. The final battle of an eternal war waged since the beginning of time- the blinding light, against the all consuming darkness. Eons of this ravaging dance echoing, revived in the essence of both parties, and wearing thin in their physical forms… One blow, is all it would take, for any of the three combatants. The twin vessels ascending to chase the light, and the Radiance perched at the very peak of her prison in dreams.

In the sea of darkness that tailed the young gods in their ascent, hundreds, thousands- no, millions of their fallen kin, their silvery white eyes all in a piercing glare towards the sun herself. A crowd of the most bold, or perhaps the most raging of all the dead slithered from the safety of the shadows, chasing the light aside their living siblings, so small, and yet- so horrifying. The very darkness she had always fought with, honed into such tiny, powerful creatures… Mere children, capable of rending apart their older kin that kept her prisoner, and assaulting her.

But even as the darkness closed in; the light refused to die. As injured as she was from their cold steel fury and scorching, wrathful magic- she could tell, they wouldn’t last long themselves. Cracked, shaking, void oozing from their shells despite their persistence- the goddess screamed in outrage and defiance.

“NO! Mere shadows will not overtake me! The void may hunger, but the pathetic Wyrm's spawn cannot compare to the burning light!!”

In their path, another barrage of scorching beams. They almost stumbled in their scramble to reach the Radiance, almost fell- but there was power to working in pairs. One would always catch the other, until so threateningly close, they split up- one lunging for the Radiance, yet barely coming short of reaching her.

“ANCIENT ENEMY, I DO NOT FEAR YOU! I WILL NOT BREAK, THE LIGHT WILL NOT BE CONSUMED!”

Shot after shot, taken at the tiny shadow. The child of darkness stumbled, exhausted no doubt; a chance to end one of them, once and for all in their weakness-! … But that was only one, struggling, trembling before the light’s might, trying and failing to pull themself up with their nail. The other- damn it all, the Wyrm’s wretched spawn took up their father’s scheming mind! There was only the time for a hastily fired blast of light, and her aim failed to strike true- unlike the twin vessel’s nail. Barely leaping past the attack, the child drove the weapon directly between the goddess’ eyes, earning a horrendous roar of rage and pain- the death knell. The mark of her sealed fate.

In an instant, the situation so dire shifted- no longer was this an agonizing game of chase. The Radiance had nowhere to run… The sea of darkness closed in, as both vessels suspended in the air on either side of the doomed light. Disgusting, cold tendrils of void lashed out from below, trapping the goddess’ wings- beginning to tug on her, trying to wrench her down into the Abyss. As the Hollow Knight rose from the swarm of shades to join the much smaller assailants, the Radiance writhed in her restraints; shrieking at her seal, her living prison with seething hate.

“YOU!! IMPURE, DESOLATE BEING, YOU DARE CONTINUE IN YOUR DEFIANCE?! EVEN IN DEATH, INTOLERABLE DARKNESS, YOU BLIGHT MY EXISTENCE!”

Though to blight, was now an understatement. Perhaps an act of opportunity, or one of sheer spiteful vengeance, the Hollow Knight reached for her- sinking his claws into her face, digging lithe fingers underneath immortal carapace. A roar of pain ripped from the Radiance’s throat as the shade proceeded to rend her face open, blinding light pouring from her inner godly core. An assault from above and below, already bad enough- but it escalated, as if her practical assassins had not already ravaged her enough. Another tendril suddenly whipped across her bleeding face, stinging and leaving a golden mark. Then another, from the opposite side- a pattern immediately repeated as the twins lashed at the prone goddess over, and over, and over.

Any other being, a beat-down would have been enough. But no- this wasn’t even CLOSE. Every strike from the twin shades, exhausted, agonized, and utterly furious, bearing down harder and harder. More and more frustration, and pain, infused into every blow- years of undeserved suffering, created in cruel and unusual manners, abandoned to the Abyss, slaughtered senselessly and repeatedly! Every part of the world against them for no reason, just innocent children, forced into a horrifying, desperate struggle for their lives, constantly being torn apart and yet, never allowed the sweet release of death. All of it was her, this massive, insane monstrosity of a goddess, cursing their kingdom, their family, forcing them all to exist and die for no good reason! To suffer and cry out with nothing to ever listen! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!! Finally, the Radiance’s voice was no longer alone, the seething shades screaming in wordless, raw emotion as they continued to bloody and ruin the goddess’s form in their wrath.

As the Radiance was mercilessly beaten down, beginning to be dragged down by the tendrils wrapped over her wings… One of the two even found it in themself to speak;

"You, you are the answer I have sought after all this time! You both sparked reason for and yet condemned our existence, and it is time you face retribution for it all!! You will not be forgotten, you will SUFFER, YOUR LIGHT WILL BE DEVOURED!"

And that was no empty threat, though how the Radiance would’ve wished it so, if she had known how all too literal that was about to be. For they were not done with her yet, even as the savage whipping stopped, since having made her face and mane a bloody mess, even ripping out clumps of her silky fur.

No, this was far, far from over.

-------------

Hazy… Dark.. So dark. Not even the trickles of light from her exposed core could illuminate the world around her, as weary, pale gold eyes fluttered open. There was… Nothing, it seemed. And yet, in this cold black expanse, the Radiance felt anything but alone. She could not see the countless in the wings, staring her down, but she could sense their unholy, unnatural presence. She could not find the two that put her here… But there was an unsettling chill creeping down her back- a feeling never experienced before, yet somehow, internally she could still find the words for. As if it were instinct, to know this situation, this sensation… To know that she felt like prey, that could not lay eyes on her looming predators.

Though exhausted, aching, beaten down- something told her to get up. To push herself off the floor, to run, to fly, somehow try to escape. A rising need, going, and going, the want to scream building in her throat- of terror, of want for help, ANYTHING. Yet no matter how these urges overwhelmed every thought and want…

Nothing happened.

Just a mere moment ago, she was hardly able to open her eyes- but now, they were wide, glimmering with dying light as a surge of panic sunk in. Every part of her was SCREAMING to move, to get away, to scream and shout and cry- mentally thrashing, like a wild beast in a cage-!

… And yet still, nothing happened. She didn’t move… She couldn’t move. Not held down, not pinned… But paralyzed. There was no toxin rushing through her veins, but there was fear. Primal fear, of the unrelenting darkness that surrounded her on all sides.

Chilling shocks ran through her body, causing her to shiver. A sudden wet, cold, goopy sort of sensation on her wingtips- as if being dipped in some sort of icy slime. But then it turned sharp, stinging, burning in the center of it, like a cut had been made. Followed soon, by a sickening, echoing crunch in the darkness- the first sound she’d heard in an immeasurable amount of time down here. It was so small, and brief, yet it felt like thunder roaring in her ears.

Then there was a pause. Silence, the cold retreating, whatever it was… Notably sticky, as it pried away, almost feeling as if it did not want to let go.

Because it didn’t. Even though there was not much to note at first, the texture wasn’t the best, not much to speak of in terms of energy yet… One bite would not sate them even under normal circumstances. If anything, only getting a brief taste to little satisfaction made them hungrier. The cold, wet sensation of little void tendrils creeping back up, before two much larger, eager bites were taken of the goddess’ wings. Another sickening crunch echoing out to pair with each one, followed by another brief pause- the shades didn’t move back again, but they needed a moment. Something changed… They’d each bitten deep enough to draw out orange, sickly blood. And for the first time, something new hit them- flavor.

The overwhelming sweetness would’ve easily sickened normal bugs- but to rather hollow creatures, being potent enough to make them actually detect a strong taste? That was enticing. Enticing, exciting- they wanted more. As if their exhaustion hadn’t already made them ravenous, the introduction to something new had them focused on nothing else but food. And food… There was plenty of.

The pauses stopped, as bite after voracious bite was ripped from the Radiance’s wings- and it didn’t take much longer for the situation to click. The pain, the cold, the sticky grasps, the gut wrenching noise, the worst possible fate known to bug kind was suddenly befalling her. Being eaten alive. Slowly, steadily, being able to feel the starving shades chewing through her wings, working their ways deeper, and deeper on either side.

The horrific paralysis only felt worse as time seemed to be slugging along. Adrenaline surged through her body, screaming more and more to do something, anything- shake the ravenous little monsters off, fight back, to scream and wail through sheer terror and pain. It almost felt like she was screaming, as her throat strained, and heavy, rough breaths were forced out of her lungs- but there was no sound. No sound but that of the gut wrenching chewing, her body being slowly torn apart.

Mouthful after mouthful, while nothing but sheer and utter disgusting horror to any onlookers, was delightful mess to the Radiance’s attackers. The massive moth’s blood was delicious and energizing- soon, also nicely joined by a distinctly salty taste as they got to the more meaty parts of her wings. Their seemingly endless hunger made them want to rush- consume more and more, as fast as possible. Yet… In this dark realm, with their greatest foe in a trembling, tasty heap before them, this was different than anything else they’d ever known. There was no danger. No urgency. No… Greater quest to rush to work on, this was it.

For once in their lives, they had all the time in the world. All the security they could ever want… And the best meal they’d ever had laying in front of them. There was no need to rush, and have such a moment end too quickly. They could slow down, savor it, enjoy this new concept of flavor that their typical diet of soul never provided.

Though, taking time to savor didn’t mean not consistently taking bites- there was an awful lot to chew through, and they still felt painfully hungry. Perfect really, all the more room for the dense bases, right where wings met fluff-covered chitin… And nerves. Lots, and lots of nerves.

In curiosity, other shades had begun to creep closer, but all of the vessels reeled back as the Radiance let out a shrill, agonized scream. Finally, she managed to move, heaving and wheezing as blood gushed from the sloppy, shredded remnants of her wings. She had no way to push herself up- but she couldn’t just lay there! She had to think fast, the reaching tendrils of those little monsters were already grasping for purchase in the open wounds. Losing any of what little protection she had was likely to only make it all worse… But she couldn’t competently move her legs with that armor on, not while she was in this shape. After a rough and hardly effective attempt to shake off the twins, the Radiance frantically kicked off the metal armor covering her legs- whether the resonating sound of it clattering to the floor would attract any further possible attention, or scare it off, she couldn’t tell.

But moving, sitting up, struggling to get to her feet- that would not save the dying light. The young, rapacious gods shrieked in anger at this meager defiance, lashing tendrils acting like whips geared at her legs. Or… One leg, rather. Young, but not inexperienced in dealing with things much, much larger than themselves- and if they could break just one, she’d be down for good, paralyzed or not. However, it seemed there was a hope- a hope that one good sharp kick might put an end to this, they had been just as weak as her!

Though unlike the Radiance, the vessels had been feeding. Renewed by the flesh and blood they had stolen already, while she was further weakened by it. Kicking out only let them catch hold of the struggling moth, yanking and twisting until the goddess lost her balance. Sinking their vile teeth into the delicate joints, rapidly rendering the limb useless. The searing pain ravaged her mind as the pair devoured her body, her vision swimming, though with the overwhelming darkness sight was already a lost cause. Her stomach twisted and turned, the pain and disgust at feeling and hearing them eating away at her beyond nauseating- a tad ironic, how the only thing keeping her from purging her system was her own lack of eating for the last century or so, while something else ate her alive.

How long had passed, now? Minutes? Hours? Maybe even days, it felt like the most miserable, disturbing eternity. Broken, defeated, once again all that broke the silence of the Abyss was the squelches, squishes, and crunches of godly flesh and carapace being consumed. Though for a moment, their meal had been interrupted- overall, the twins were still having the time of their lives, digging in deeper and deeper. They were bloody messes, only really pausing their feast to occasionally reach up with their claws and brush off a clump or two of matted, stained moth fluff.

Said fluff was… Quite a problem, actually. Almost her entire body was covered in it, and while wings, carapace, and flesh were all game- mouthfuls of fur didn’t sound nearly as appealing. In fact, the accidental bite into it here or there was getting quite agitating. The pair stopped a moment to go to each other, and perhaps plan a way around the obstacle keeping them from the sweet insides of their prey.

As disgusting, morbid and torturous as their feast was, there was still a hint of something softer, behind those egregious maws and soulless white eyes. Their voices now merely soft, gentle chimes as they communicated, trills and chips back and forth- had any part of her numbing mind been able to focus on something other than the agony, it would’ve driven home a shameful point. At these years of struggling and brawling with the Pale King… And she was defeated, mauled, being actively devoured- not by the Wyrm. But by his spawn, mere children. Did he know what horrors he had created? Was the Wyrm aware of the power and hunger even such small vessels had?

… Maybe that’s why she had begun to sense the pale light in her domain of dreams. Maybe he was hiding, so he didn’t suffer this very same, twisted fate. Dull, hazy, drifting thoughts, the quiet and soft noises were a respite from the sounds of her flesh ripping and being consumed…

Though, the time to ponder anything was over. Another wave of searing pain left the Radiance’s mind spinning, ripping an incoherent scream of pain from her lungs. The gaping wounds where her wings had once been left openings for the pair, who were busy sinking their claws and tendrils in. Messily rasping away flesh with any grip they could get, and stuffing it into their mouths to feed their outrageous appetites. For a few moments, the scraping and ripping of flesh stopped, almost numbing cold taking over the wounds- yet despite the slight relief from the pain… Something still felt very, very wrong.

An icy, squirming sensation starting piercing into her body, not doing anything to remedy the nausea, the feeling like her gets were already twisting and writhing into knots. Everything was getting so hazy, and hard to process though… What that sensation meant didn’t even really click, until the pain spiked in an all new area- her abdomen. If her organs hadn’t been literally twisting around, now they were being twisted, ripped, rended away from each other to be consumed.

There were a few tremors that could be felt from within the goddess’ massive, increasingly hollow form… Muffled, weak sobs. Before absolute silence, and stillness. The blinding light inside her heart waned and weakened, to a barely illuminating glow- a spark, then extinguished as the ravenous maws of her killers snapped down around it. Brutalized in combat and absolutely savaged in the darkness, the ancient goddess would at long last dream no more.

Even with the Radiance’s overdue passing, the pair of shades would be taking their sweet time. A goddess did not need to be alive to give them energy, her very flesh and blood imbued with powerful essence. Still ripping, tearing, rasping away every morsel of divine flesh they could, from head to toe. They had no concept of time here- it could’ve taken hours for all they knew to strip her entirely, and there was no care. There was even the care to stop and drink the blood that had pooled in her empty carapace, so, so sweet and energizing… Not a drop wasted, save for what had miserably stained and matted her fur.

However long it took, after they were finally done- the twins finally felt content, and for good reason. The most amazing feast of their lives just thoroughly savored, their life-long purposes of destroying the light completed, their wounds and exhaustion long since mended and overcome with their massive meal of pure god essence. A success and reward long and painfully earned, their pleasure and pride expressed through chirps, trills and chimes, back and forth to each other. With all said and done, the sated shades drifted over to their elder brother, snuggling up to the Hollow Knight. They were met with gratitude for slaying the Radiance, for the soon to come freedom once they made their way back to the temple to retrieve their shells… But as the pair passed out in the larger shade’s arms, undoubtedly ready to sleep off some of their meal- the appreciative look faded, to previously hidden horror.

While the sleeping twins were blissfully unaware, it did occur to the knight… It was taboo to eat other gods, and for good reason. Aside from the sheer brutality of what was just witnessed, there was worry for the inevitable consequences. Worry for what was to come, if their appetites had reached to the divine.

[lachalaine]

3, 9, 15, 18

Wrath // 

accepting . @valorandheart​

3. How quick are they to resort to violence? 

She has a healthy measure of a what you’d consider to be a hair trigger temper tbh. Very quickly and at the snap of a finger will she fly into a rage, but only ever if she is purposely ( even slightly ) pushed or prodded into reaching that particular conclusion. In a situation like that, where she is at all made to feel disrespected or antagonized, you get maybe just the slightest flicker of a verbal warning, but if it’s unheeded - then she has every damn excuse in the book to just up and sock you in the jaw for even thinking about testing her. 

She is often the first to strike a punch yes, but that’s because she doesn’t believe in playing nice. Whatever her attempt at words will fail in saying, perhaps a trip to the ER will instead communicate flawlessly. 

However, even despite her intense flurry of rage, she’s not entirely what you might consider to be mindless or irrational when it comes to it ( a sharp contrast to her usual persona with literally anything else, i know ), because I just think anger sort of flips a bit of a switch inside her head really. It brings out the aspect of herself that is — more calm. But a calm that isn’t normal. It’s not at all a calm that’s genuinely tranquil, but more built on being very, very precise; intelligent, contemplative and built up by the knowledge of having a lot of near death experiences. 

There is a spark of a very keen intellect somewhere in there before she starts nuking both place and offending person to smithereens, but it’s not a question of whether punching them in the face would be worth it or not ( because it’s always going to be worth it to her, if it means sorting someone’s shit out ). Rather, it’s merely a question of how exactly she plans to get in exacting the ramifications of their aggravating her. 

9. Is there a line they will not cross when it comes to violence/insults?

For violence, she doesn’t do torture unless it’s on people that she genuinely considers to be a threat to her - otherwise known as those she intends to eventually kill. Like, genuinely they have to be dangerous in the sense that ‘if I leave them untouched, they will hurt more people in ways I could have stopped’. For that particular type of crazy, she deals with it differently. 

Thus, your regular street thugs and perverts all get to keep each and every one of their limbs. Unless they intend to go beyond just your usual disrespect, she’ll stop at just your regular beat up until they pass out, and then call it a day. For how angry she can get, she does have a meager sense of rationalization left to her in those moments as well; in the sense that she knows when her violence is too much. Too much in the sense that she’s so blinded by rage that a man is a footstep away from near death. Such a thing can actually happen too, when her demons and sadness get the best of her. 

She’s learned to control it just a bit, by taking her anger during those moments out on inanimate objects instead. Her living room has had to be fully refurbished two now, just in the past three years, for the absolute wreckage she’s caused in there. But sometimes - just sometimes, she slips. And she tries to get away before that happens, but it doesn’t always work out. About three times now has she so severely lost her temper that she’s thrown at least four men into a coma. 

But her anger was never at them. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and happened to not take ‘no’ for an answer. 

Quietly does she pay for their hospital bills, shuffling money anonymously into bank accounts if the victim had had family that were distraught. At the end of the day - she draws the line at violence that comes without good reason. She draws the line at violence that was not warranted - especially not to that degree. 

Her guilt - more then the demons - is the worst thing to consume her; and she can never escape that one. 

In terms of insults, she just strays away from insulting people with names that might pertain to their sexual habits. Slut, whore, and the like are all completely off the table. Because really?? Let the person do their thing, it’s no ones business but their own, go away, shoo !! 

15. What’s the worst situation they’ve ended up in before, due to violence?

The worst one… has to be the third and latest time that she’d lost control of her rage; one of the moments the same as I’d been referring to earlier. 

Canonically speaking, you could say maybe it was around a year a half ago now. She’d had — maybe what you might consider a fit. Just a gradual one. A build up where there’s no really specific trigger but just. Just everything inching its way towards her until she can’t function as rationally as she would have liked. Fits built up out of sleepless nights, memories, a recurrence of self hatred and despair and guilt. 

Fits built up because she’s reminded of her mistakes, embittered anew by the man that’d caused them. And yet more then even that, would be her bitterness for herself. 

Now these particular ‘moods’ as you might call them - have become a regularly recurring state of mind at this point. She can’t escape it, and half the time it creeps up on her until she can’t ignore it anymore. Such are the consequences when you refuse to deal with your shuttered feelings properly. 

Now as much as possible, she deals with them by taking it out on her furniture, sheltering herself away so she can feel her feelings and not allow anyone else to get caught in the aftermath of it. Sometimes she takes to a punching bag, sometimes all the breakable vases and plates and slammable doors she can get her hands on. Yet this fit had happened when she wasn’t even home yet, and in fact nowhere was she near it. When she didn’t have that kind of security or stability to keep herself in check, but did have a large group of men hassling her instead.��

They’d been hard to deter even when she’d initially been in the club with them, and to a certain extent had she’d managed to avoid most of their prodding. They’d behaved themselves after the first warning, because she was in her element and the bouncers and her colleagues were keeping them in check. They’d been especially overprotective of her that night, because they’d known in the day leading up to things that she wasn’t quite okay. There was a healthy sense of fear and respect and care in their gazes that night, and whilst Jackie had appreciated it - to a certain extent…. it also made her more antsy. 

She’d felt like a bomb in that moment, with the pressure rising up beneath her skin. Like she wasn’t comfortable and needed to release some of it, and she didn’t want to do it there, not when everything and anything just seemed to be getting on her nerves even more. 

She’d had very little sleep those nights. Had been running on copious amounts of caffeine and quiet frankly just wanted to have a breakdown, if only so she could get some relief. So she went off to the nearby pier after work, just for a brief moment, in hopes that maybe the silence of it all would grant her some semblance of relief. 

But instead, she got six grown men tailing her at three thirty in the morning, eventually cornering her by an abandoned alleyway as she’d been making to leave and effectively blocking her way out. 

And maybe her reaction had been partly out of some sense of fear for herself. A healthy sense of fear, I think, for no matter how strong she’d known herself to be - in that moment, she had felt overwhelmed. By all the feelings she’d suppressed; the stress and the exhaustion and the blatant disrespect as they’d tried to move in on her because not one of them knew how to fucking quit — !!

Again. She doesn’t remember what happened. 

She never does. 

Ultimately, I think her snapping was because of that fear, that idea of being boxed in against her will once again - but also it was conjoined with a terrifying and heart aching sense of need. 

A need to prove herself. That she was strong and capable and she didn’t have to be forced into anything she didn’t want. The need to stop the situation and make sure it’d ended, before it went full throttle into a situation she couldn’t control. And the very idea that her freedom would be infringed upon in anyway, whether it be a mindless grope or a man who thought he could force himself on her — really, she wouldn’t take it. 

She couldn’t. 

That thoughtless little prod against a very, very, V E R Y sore spot brought out the absolute worst in her. 

Imagine her surprise when she finally came to again, in a moment where she was repeatedly punching an unconscious man in the face so severely that he was absolutely unrecognizable, to find that she was actually crying while doing it. She’d had blood on her hands and on her clothes, on her face and beneath her nails. She’d snapped both of a mans wrist in but a split second and smashed another ones jaw with her elbow so severely he’d needed to have it completely reconstructed. Broken legs, broken ribs, broken teeth, repeated cranium blows against hard concrete and steel. One punctured a lung, one acquired amnesia, another three had gone into full coma’s, though only one of them remains that way until today. Two are still receiving physical therapy. 

The other she’d strangled so badly the only way he can eat is through a tube. 

Eventually when she’d come to, there’d only been one of the men awake. And he’d been cowering and whimpering, sobbing himself to pieces while he’d lain there with both broken leg and two broken wrists. 

The only thing she can remember of that night is how tired —- how so dreadfully, dreadfully tired she really was. 

She couldn’t find it in her to even be angry anymore. 

Long story cut short ( like I didn’t explain it all already dshabdhsba ), Jazzele eased her way out while Jackie finally passed out, and while she didn’t raise a hand against them, she did — ahem — assist, in wiping most of their memories of that night. 

Jazz is the reason she made her way back home that night too. When she came to, she was in her filled and bloody bathtub, still in her underwear. 

To a certain extent, I do think that Jazz has influenced Jackie’s handling of these situations. She dulls it down for her even more then Jackie could ever do on her own, that she always considers it a regular mental problem now. 

It’s number her overall empathy to feel. As a security measure. 

Because if Jackie were to ever feel that in its entirely again, she’s not confident she’s strong enough to survive it. 

18. Was violence a big part of their childhood?

Violence was never a part of her childhood. Not in the least! Even when she was being bullied as a kid, no one actually raised a hand against her besides throwing chalk on her clothes and dirtying her up, it was all just mostly taunts and emotional damage. Honestly, she was really sensitive as a kid, you know? Soft and shy, always got so scared of yelling too. It made her uncomfortable, and she would end up in tears and hide beneath tables because she couldn’t take it. 

She was so damn soft back then, it almost breaks my heart to think about it. Because she looks back on it too sometimes and feels like she’s lost a great deal of her sense of purity from back then. Her light, her frailty, her delicacy….

Not that she wants to ever be considered frail but. 

You know. Sometimes girls want to be taken care of too, sometimes. Even if she can handle it on her own and she tells herself she can handle it on her own, and she’ll be stubborn about handling all of it, everything, all on her own until she’s old and grey and lying on her death bed —- !!!! 

( really now OTL ) 

More then anything though, really – she just misses that bit of her that didn’t feel like she had the whole weight of the world on her shoulders. That little bit of her who could still share her feelings with her parents and her friends - heck her stuffed bears! - just tell them what makes her happy and makes her sad, just being able to talk about personal things and not feeling like she was on death row just for saying it. 

Not feeling like a shadowed figure was out to literally steal her soul the moment she’d debated uttering a single word of it. To anyone. 

Even to a bear. 

But maybe just — in another lifetime, you know? 

she just would have liked to keep that piece of her too. 

[httplovecraft1890]

Tomie Head Canon Extravaganza

"'Don't talk about life or death,' she said. 'I've had enough of both.'" - The Waterboys, “A Girl Called Johnny” (1983)

I haven’t actually seen one of these floating around, and most of this is honestly just kind of fic material, but I figured I’d go ahead and just put up a general mapping of Tomie’s personal history that I recently sat down and came up. While it will be used for my own stories, anyone is free to use aspects of it if they so wish for their own stuff (RP, etc.), and while I understand some might be turned off by ‘explaining the monster’ given Ito’s penchant for not giving his audiences explanations, it was a fun mental exercise.

(Unknown who the original artist is, but I believe they’ve deleted their Tumblr account since making it)

Family History

“Gonna hang myself from my family tree.” - Sparks, “In My Family” (1974)

The Kawakami family’s origins lie in the southern half of Japan in what is modern day Shimane prefecture before they traveled further south to the port of Nagasaki, where for much of their history they remained as a family of fishermen. In 1588, they were among the first to be converted by the Portuguese at their diocese in the region, a faith that Tomie’s father maintained up until his death in 1974. Her mother’s family, the Hashimotos, had historically always been soldiers and could trace her ancestry to samurai in the employ of the Tokugawa shogunate in the city of Sagamihara in Kanagawa prefecture. 

Her father, Abraham Kawakami (1937-1974) - Japanese Christians oftentimes adopt Western names or will utilize both a traditional one as well as another and there was no way I was missing out an opportunity to have her dad’s name mean ‘father of many’ - was part of the country’s noveau riche that had sprung up during the post-World War II American occupation that benefited with the abolition of the aristocracy and breaking up of the zaibatsu following their nation’s defeat. The Kawakami family under the enterprise of Abraham’s dad, Peter, changed professions and began a steel plant back in their old homeland of Shimane, based out of Tokyo. With an eager foreign backer ready to help rebuild the islands to prevent the spread of Communism, Peter’s competitiveness and aggressive but fair business practices led his family to wealth virtually overnight. Despite this, Peter always had poor health throughout his life and was really only building an empire so that his son might take over in his stead after he passed on. His mother, Mary (also descended from a line of Japanese Christians), was a homemaker and did not adjust well to being a CEO’s wife, preferring to avoid functions as much as she could

Tomie’s mother, Chouko Hashimoto (1932-present), was one of the most popular actresses - and sex symbols - in the 1950s and 1960s in Japan, starring in everything from TV shows, movies, and even radio programs, getting her start in the 1951-1957 historical soap opera, How Silent Fall the Cherry Blossoms, set during the Meiji Restoration at just 19. Chouko’s, and Tomie’s, good looks are somewhat genetic as her father, Toshiro Hashimoto, was a prestigious pilot for the Imperial Japanese Army Air Service and was known for appearing in news broadcast reels as propaganda for the war due to his clean cut, handsome appearance. He did not live to see the end of the war, however, and his plane was shot down during opening hours of the Battle of Okinawa (April 1, 1945). Though she would always deny it publicly in interviews, her radio body of work was directly inspired by her mother’s, Ai, role as a ‘Tokyo Rose’ during the final days of the war (a term used by Americans to refer to female Japanese broadcasters fluent in English who tried to goad them into deserting the armed services). 

Despite Peter’s religiosity, it was something that only came intermittently to Abraham. Scarred by the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the war’s end, for a long time he was a lapsed Catholic, and didn’t take going to church particularly seriously - a source of friction between his parents and himself. It also didn’t help that in his father’s waning years before losing his battle with stomach cancer, Abraham took to all sorts of debauchery and heavy drinking, the latter causing his own inner demons to unleash themselves for the rest of his short life.

Chouko and Abraham met at a Christmas party hosted by Kawakami Metals in Tokyo in the winter of 1968 and hit it off. Quickly seeing one another for casual hookups, the situation became much more serious in early 1969 when Chouko found out she was pregnant, and a marriage ceremony was quickly held to save public face for both parties (in Abraham’s case especially important as Peter had died not long into the new year and he had been confirmed by the board of his family’s company as the new CEO). Given Japanese social mores, it was effectively the end of Chouko’s career as she would be expected to retire and raise the baby, as well as any other she and Abraham might have in the future - something that greatly disappointed and angered her. 

Tomie was born on October 31, 1969 in Tokyo, Japan (this is a reference to her first appearance in the shoujo magazine Monthly Halloween, as well as being 18 years from that year, a safe bet to assume the first chapter’s story takes place in as there is no mention of DNA testing on her remains - something that became commonplace as part of police procedures roughly at around this time). 

Her baptized name is Anna - a diminutive of Hannah, ‘favor’ or ‘grace’ in Hebrew - was a name her dad would refer to as, but something her mother wouldn’t, and was a source of tension between the two of them (given she was not a Christian), something that became more important to Abraham in the wake of his dad’s passing. This is a reference to the movie Tomie: Forbidden Fruit; the bit about her family being Christian is a nod to a throwaway scene from Tomie: Beginning where she quotes the bible, of all things.

Though much more bearable when her father was alive, Chouko’s treatment of Tomie as a child was always one of general detachment and disinterest at best, something that grew into actual abuse once Abraham’s illness, alcoholism, caught up with him in 1974 when after a night of heavy drinking at a party hosted at his family’s home, ended up with him drowning in his own vomit, only to be discovered by a 5-year-old Tomie the following morning.

Despite never marrying again, Chouko mistakenly believed herself set for life as she had taken the Kawakami surname, and the company’s founding documents made provisions for the family to receive a cut of the profits once control had been turned over to the board of directors. Never one to manage money well, despite the stipend she received, she and Tomie eventually found themselves living barely above the poverty line.

Childhood

“Mama's gonna make all your nightmares come true. Mama's gonna put all her fears into you. Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing. ” - Pink Floyd, “Mother” (1979)

Unlike the girl that the manga-reading public is familiar with, Tomie growing up was a much different character at first. Despite being photogenic, she had an incredibly shy nature that often meant she would not open up to others easily, something that ultimately evolved into outright being emotionally stunted due to the frequent and varying types of abuse she received at the hands of a mother who hated her, seeing her as the reason her future had collapsed.

With the idea that talking = being hurt seared into her, Tomie’s school life was not much better than being at home. Her beautiful appearance meant that girls were frequently jealous of being shown up by her and her reticent demeanor towards others meant that boys saw her as stuck up or seeing herself above them. With school administrations loathe to address bullying, Tomie was an easy target for her peers to pick on. This only served to further the idea in her mind that human beings are capable only of cruelty and that kindness by others is only as good as how much they believe it will benefit them to act that way.

Reiko Mizutani was Tomie’s first - and only - real friend. They met in middle school in their first year, with Reiko being the first person who ever tried to reach out to her and establish some kind of human connection. Despite many of her initial attempts being rebuffed, Tomie ultimately relented in the hopes she would finally be left alone, but quickly latched onto the other girl when it became apparent that someone, at last, was treating her well. Even if perhaps on some level she believed it was a lie, it was a worthwhile delusion to hold, making her the one exception to Tomie’s rule about mankind. She’s also the only victim of hers that Tomie has ever felt any kind of remorse in eating/absorbing.

Speaking of Reiko, her efforts at getting Tomie to come out of her shell are also the very same thing that set her on her eventual downward spiral. At first simply trying to avoid further harassment, it became readily apparent to Tomie that it was easy to get things out of others by using false promises or at least feeding them enough bread crumbs that they’d be strung along by her for no other reason than they felt she was attractive or they happened to be intimidated by her. The older she became, the worse she got, though she she always did spare Reiko her later attitude when they were in private together.

The positive feedback loop of being awful to others yet simultaneously cowing them never made much of a difference at home. Even if she could put on a brave act while at school, it didn’t matter when facing Chouko’s wrath. Tomie being on the receiving end of physical violence didn’t begin with men, it instead began with her mother hitting her for minor mistakes, using her firsts or the closes object to her. Tomie’s numerous ‘boyfriends’ often remarked that the only thing imperfect about her were bruises or scars.

There was nothing particularly special about her relationship with Yamamoto or Mr. Takagi; she’d cheated on those she’d been in relationships before, but it was the first time that it had ever blown up in Tomie’s face. Despite not caring much for Yamamoto personally, it was Takagi who made the first move, which Tomie did reciprocate (the signature mole underneath her eye vaguely reminded Takagi of a porn star he liked) and being middle-aged meant that his tenure at Tomie’s school gave him a bit of money to throw around for compensated dating.

Manipulative and cruel as she ended up becoming in spite of Reiko’s best efforts, Tomie’s fear that she was pregnant was correct: she was indeed with child and afraid of the consequences, not only from the rest of society, but her mother especially. His later status as a thrall of Tomie’s posing as her father on numerous occasions is meant to reflect his attempted shirking of responsibility.

It fudges with the time frame a bit, but Tomie’s (first) death was on July 13, 1987 occurred exactly one week when they were supposed to go on summer break and the events of the first chapter occurred shortly after class 1-B’s return in August.  (This date in particular was chosen as it’s inverse of Junji Ito’s birthday July 31).

Life After Death

“I don't want a cycle of recycled revenge, I don't want to follow Death and all of his friends." - Coldplay, “Death and All His Friends” (2008)

Despite being close to her father growing up, it turns out his conception of the afterlife was wrong - or at least not applicable to her. Tomie ended up in Meido, or the Buddhist version of hell with some Chinese folklore tossed in. After crossing the River Sanzu to proceed onto the afterlife, Tomie’s soul immediately faces problems from the underworld’s bureaucracy. Namely that her life was a complicated one and that’s seriously effecting their judgment on her fate. None of the kings present can decide on what to do with her or what level she should end up on. Her lecherous and selfish behavior is something that would’ve normally damned her... but the circumstances of her death shock them. Betrayed by not only her teacher, but a classroom that almost entirely hated her? It was clearly an unwarranted punishment from mortals, an idea that they balk at. However, what seals Tomie’s fate is that among those who betrayed her is someone whose life is relatively free of any kind of bad karma: Reiko. Unsure of what to do in extenuating circumstances such as this, the kings make their decision.

With no options left, they kick Tomie out of Meido and onto a diferent plane entirely: that of the more traditional Japanese afterlife, Yomi. This, too, is much like the Western conception of purgatory though without any kind of the fire or brimstone seemingly found in the former location. Meido’s judges have determined that the only being who has the right to see Tomie’s fate decided satisfactorily is the primordial goddess Izanami.

Izanami, annoyed that this trivial matter is being brought before her, almost does away with Tomie’s soul entirely but she stops her, mentioning that the two of them are kindred. Since Izanami’s bet with her brother-husband eons ago saw her committed to killing more humans than he could bring into the world, Tomie believes that the only sensible solution is to have someone working in the mortal realm who can help expedite the process of creating strife. After all, the terms and conditions of the bet were vague and there was no specification from either party that the same soul passing on had to be different. With that in mind, as well as having her own deep seated desire to hurt men, Izanami acquiesces.

Tomie lays out her terms: she will be allowed to return to life as an agent of Izanami’s on her own terms. She cannot die permanently though her physical body may be destroyed, will not age unless she wills it, luck must forever fall in her favor, and she can manipulate anyone she chooses. Izanami agrees since to her something like this is trivial and it allows her to get back at Izanagi, but she requires one last thing: proof that Tomie is willing to uphold her end of the bargain. To that end, Tomie offers her the soul of her just formed child as compensation and is allowed to return to earth, setting up the events of the original Tomie.

Abilities and Powers

“I thought that I was in heaven But I was sure surprised. Heaven help me, I didn’t see The devil in your eyes.” - Elvis Presley, “(You’re the) Devil in Disguise” (1963)

Functionally speaking, Tomie’s manipulation of others works like she were an emotional vampire: the other person must be emotionally vulnerable, just like she was when Reiko met her years ago, for her to have an ‘in.’ If at some point you ‘fall in love with her’ or are weak enough to be unable to resist her, there’s nothing you can do to rid yourself of her until it’s too late. This ability is also not based on sexual attraction either. “Orphan Girl” proves that she can manipulate people based on nothing more than platonic affection as well, so straight women or gay men can’t even consider themselves safe.

Tomie prefers to revive herself from her own body rather than absorbing others. There are a few reasons for that, but the foremost one is that it’s simply less taxing on her. The other is that occupying the same body means sharing the same soul as another, and this is the reason why Tomies who are generated in others are far less cooperative than those who come from Tomie Prime (for lack of a better term). Traits from the previous girl’s life often find themselves seeping into this new version of Tomie and it’s something she absolutely despises. 

Eating human flesh as a quicker way of healing herself is, obviously, not something she agreed to do, but something Izanami forced her to do as it 1) amused her and 2) didn’t want Tomie getting too arrogant about her newfound powers.

Despite what was mentioned above about Tomie’s preferred regeneration methods, there is a benefit to taking in those who aren’t her. Tomie’s memories function much like a cloud computing system - they’re all accessible by any of the ghost clones and still exist even in the inevitable death of those who’re using them. Similarly, skill sets that Tomie could gain such as being able to speak/read/write English fluently, learning how to be a stewardess, the intimate knowledge of a particular mathematician become hers once her mind mingles with another’s. Once again similarly to a vampire, though, Tomie must manipulate the girl into letting her absorb them into herself (seen arguably in the manga chapter “Hair” and a frequent subject of the Tomie movies). She does this, in true Hollywood movie monster fashion, by keeping all the souls of the girls she’s absorbed over the years (or men who’ve been manipulated by her and died) to further her own abilities’ growth, thus explaining why she seems to get stronger as the series progresses. They are collected in a place her mind can sink into once it’s damaged enough called the ‘In-Between Place,’ a kind of personal fiefdom she has in Yomi itself.

Her effect on men, or women, who become attracted to her is very similar to a heavy sleep, with few being able to recall any details of their experiences while under her sway, but going from relatively normal and functioning within society to raving lunatics hellbent on her murder.

Unlike characters such as Deadpool or Wolverine, Tomie isn’t immune to the pain of being hurt. Getting cut, stabbed, electroctued, drowned, beaten with an object, etc. all still feel just as horrible as they would to a regular human, it’s just that they aren’t permanent obstacles. 

Shintoism places a high premium on the phrase “cleanliness is next to godliness.” The worlds of the living and dead are not meant to intertwine and historically even people who so much as touched corpses like butchers, graveyard workers, etc. formed an underclass called burakumin who were treated as the dregs of society (and soft discrimination still continues to this day despite the Meiji reforms abolishing the shogunate’s caste system). Fire being one of the few things that kill Tomie is an extension of this idea, as a common superstition is that corpses that are buried or left to rot above ground can become haunts for evil spirits, but turning someone to ashes prevents that possibility. It’s her one Achilles’ heel due to the paradoxical nature of her origin.

Though Tomie occasionally refers to herself as a ‘demon,’ as I explained early on, this is not accurate: she’s a ghost, albeit a physical one. Calling herself an oni, though, is more of her cheekily referring to the idea that her purpose is, technically speaking, a divine one... just in a very twisted manner as oni are often in depictions of versions of the afterlife among Japan’s main religions of Shintoism and Buddhism acting as tormentors or obstacles to be overcome in some fashion.

Her luck powers are not readily apparent, usually not even to her, and they often simply just ‘happen’ rather than occur by her will. Whether it be from a traveler who just happens to pass by her, surviving something just long enough to spin it in her favor, etc. there’s usually an out for Tomie, especially as her strength grows.

Once she’s powerful enough, Tomie probably could use men to revive herself with - or even those who aren’t ethnically Japanese - but she’s not quite there yet.

Tomie doesn’t like for there to be too many copies of herself at any given time if she can help it. Not only does it put suspicion on her presence in multiple locations at once, it’s something of a mental drain on her to be split into so many different bodies at once.

Similarly, while she hypothetically could leave Japan and go abroad, Tomie doesn’t dare do so out of the fear that at least one version of herself will die for good as her magic might very well be tied to the land itself. But, again, if she were to grow stronger then who knows what she could do...

Miscellaneous

"...Look at me, I'm all the fishes in the sea." - Fiona Apple, “Daredevil” (2012)

If you scrape underneath the surface, there really isn’t much of Tomie from a personality perspective. Even with her immortality, she never really ever developed a personality or interests. In many ways she’s still the terrified little girl cowering underneath her sheets at night, wondering if her mother will find an excuse to hurt her. Her sociopathy is learned, not inherent, but she still lacks genuine interests other than hoarding wealth just the same.

That said, her demand of caviar and foie gras is something of a personal joke for her. They were Chouko’s favorite luxury food items and she would often lament that she could no longer afford them after Abraham’s death. Even after all this time, Tomie is using her powers to spite her mother by obtaining something she knows she can’t have.

Despite the fact she seems virtually fearless on the surface, outside of Chouko, Tomie has developed an intense entomophobia (fear of insects) and helminthophobia (fear of worms) ever since she returned to life. If she’s partially healed like, say, a decapitated head she can still feel something like a cockroach nibbling at her flesh. Despite this, she does feel a spiritual connection so to speak with their hardiness.

The only man she’s ever genuinely loved was her father. She’s less angry at him dying than she is of him leaving her alone with her mother. All others are expendable tools at best to further her own goals.

Her favorite flowers are lilies, owing to Abraham’s childhood nickname for her (also ironic symbolism as white lilies are a common item in funeral arrangements in Japan as symbols of death).

She probably does enjoy sex, but is almost certainly highly selective of which of her thralls gets the ‘honor’ of touching her in that way (though innuendo is likely employed by her to get those who are more hesitant than others to give in to her). Even if she does find her partner agreeable, she probably still puts him down anyway, but playing it off as a kink.

In a break with many other Tomie fans, I don’t particularly think she’s lesbian; I’d personally phrase her sexuality as “doom” more than anything else. Men are her ‘preference,’ if it can be termed that, to stomp their egos into the dirt and ruin their lives, but if employing her usual tricks on women is necessitated in some manner, she wouldn’t hesitate to do so. Any perceived gentleness towards them is more due to having to break down Japan’s traditional sexual mores and get them to lower their guard, however.

She sees herself as personally being above morality, hence why disturbing chapters like “Boy” portray her as being overly physical with someone much younger than herself, while in “Passing Demon” an 8-year-old copy sees no issue with trying to seduce someone much older. That kind of thing is for humans - something she doesn’t believe herself to be anymore.

That said, in the In-Between Place, Tomie has kept Reiko’s spirit ‘alive’ as best she can. Unlike its ‘roommates,’ it’s the closest thing to how she was in life that’s still possible for her in her prison. If there’s anyone other than her father that Tomie can said to have loved, it would probably be Reiko, and she’s the only person Tomie probably romantically had any affection for (not that she would recognize it as such).

The laugh she’s often portrayed as having, a light, airy thing meant to imitate a noblewoman’s speech pattern, is actually something she manufactured. Tomie’s laugh - still possible to coax out of her if you surprise her well enough - is extremely dorky, including snorting and all.

[toxicityrp]

                 PEYOTE ● THE LAB MANAGER ● CLOSED

      ❝ You know the phrase karma’s gonna bite ya in the    ass if you’re not careful? Well, let’s just say Peyote     here has served some ice cold revenge. I’m not really   surprised because if your parents leave you to die at  the hands of your oppressor, then crime is justified. ❞

THE SINNER. TW: ABANDONMENT, DEPRESSION, FIRE, MURDER

Raleigh was named for a far off place that his mother was never going to visit. His name - like his entire existence - was a pipe dream Nina Turner had conjured up in a desperate attempt to convince her wealthy boyfriend to keep her around. After all, only a heartless bastard could walk out on the love of their life and their newborn baby. Raleigh’s father proved to be just that, leaving a check for $500 and absolutely no way to get into contact with him. Not that Raleigh ever shed many tears for his estranged father. His mother, on the other hand, shed so many tears that it was a wonder she didn’t flood the entire apartment. Some of his earliest memories are the sound of his mother’s voice shrilly insisting that ‘he would come back’ over the phone to whoever would listen. Still, Raleigh and his mother managed to live successfully on their own for eight years until Lithium clawed his way into the picture.

Raleigh remembers to warning bells going off in his head the first moment he met Lithium, the morning after his mother had gone out with friends. He was accustomed to seeing strangers in the apartment and didn’t bother questioning, passing him off as just another in a long line of painkillers for his mother’s broken heart. Unfortunately, Lithium didn’t just disappear as expected, appearing once again two days later, and then twice a week and then everyday. He came with seductive words and promises of adoration that may have sounded hollow to Raleigh but were a love song to his mother. They married not four months after meeting in a smudgy ceremony held in a local bar. It happened so quick that Raleigh couldn’t even process his mother actually dating again let alone deal with having a new father. They moved into Nina’s deceased mother’s house, a whole new castle of a lacking fairytale. Of course, Lithium didn’t exactly have the intention to be a father to young Raleigh. Truth be told, he barely even acknowledge his new stepson - something that irked Raleigh at the time. If only he could have told himself that invisibility is better than Lithium’s attention.

If anyone ever asked Raleigh about hell, he wouldn’t tell them that hell was the smoldering look in their step-father’s eyes as Lithium held his tiny, ten year old hand against the stovetop for forgetting to turn it off. How was he to know that no one would hire Lithium for his shoddy reputation and even worse people skills? Pissing off Juliana Lange? No one in their right mind would do that. Present and smaller than most kids his age, Raleigh provided the perfect opportunity for Lithium to work off some his stress. At first Lithium just passed off Raleigh’s new injuries to his mother as the young boy being clumsy and careless but as time passed and work became scarcer and scarcer, where not even the most desperate would come to Lithium, Raleigh’s stepfather became less concerned with subtlety. Soon, it didn’t matter if Nina was in the room, a fuck up was a fuck up and there was the belt to his face, welts rising from the buckle. At too young an age, Raleigh learned just how much pain his tiny body could take. It didn’t matter where he hid when Lithium got home - under the bed, in the closet, on the fire escape - Lithium always found him. Especially on nights he was feeling creative. There are some nights he will never unlock in his brain.

He tried running away a couple of times but in Dertosa, sometimes even the feeling of rings cutting into your mouth and being locked in a trunk for a night is a better option than being fourteen and alone in the dark crevices of the city. In his teen years, Raleigh didn’t know what peace was, or what help was. Everyone knew what Lithium was doing and no one raised a hand. Things became bleaker with each morning, the simple routine of waking up, suffering, going to sleep becoming his own type of purgatory. But, it was his mother that broke his heart. God, he could forgive her for staying in Dertosa, for marrying Lithium, for doing nothing, but what he couldn’t forgive was her leaving him. One day Nina Turner just left and didn’t come back, leaving behind a note for her only son: i’m sorry. Raleigh didn’t even try to hide from Lithium that night when Lithium discovered his wife had abandoned him and saddled him with a son he never wanted. He thought he’d die that night for sure - he prayed for it - but like all times before, his prayers went unanswered. He spent most of the night outside of his body, looking down on his situation and reflecting on everything that had gone wrong. He came out of it with a clearer mind, a purpose finally.

In the early hours of the morning, Raleigh pulled himself to his feet, stumbled to the basement. Lithium kept all his “work tools” down there, including the steel tow chains for his more unsavory tasks. The feel of metal against his palm is one he remembers to this day as he wound the chain around his sleeping stepfather, hooking him to his beloved recliner. Lithium didn’t wake up until Raleigh splashed gasoline over him, methodical as he drenched the entire place. Then, Raleigh gave Lithium the chance to beg for his life, to threaten him, to say fucking anything. Either way, whatever Lithium said or did was inconsequential, his words not even registering to sixteen year old Raleigh. Raleigh lit the match, flicked it on his stepfather and stared. Lithium burned red as his namesake was supposed to and when the bastard finally stopped screaming, Raleigh burned the rest of the house down too.

The months after that are a blur of just trying to survive on the streets, for straining and struggling to continue on with some of Lithium’s old buddies and the questioning police breathing down his neck. Raleigh fully believed he wasn’t much longer for this world but salvation came in the form of a man. Not knowing whether or not God was sending him an angel for make up for his shit life, when Heroin picked Raleigh up from the streets, he was wary as he had been taught to be. Almost feral in the beginning, Raleigh lashed out at Heroin in confusion and desperation but each time, the Drug responded with patience and a kindness that he’d never known. Heroin wiped Raleigh’s record clean, warned off Lithium’s associates, and inspired a loyalty in him that still burns as brightly and strongly as that house fire all those years ago.

THE FACTS.

For all the sorrow and pain he caused, Raleigh is reluctant to admit that his stepfather taught him much. He learned the nature of Dertosa, the dog-eat-dog world, the ins and outs of crime. After all, what could he have done besides listen numbly everytime Lithium quit tormenting him and just began preaching to him. He did what he could from time to time to avoid his stepfather’s wrath by entertaining him as an unwitting apprentice - how to load a gun, where to stick a knife to avoid the ribs, what to do if the police ever came, how to inspire fear, the list goes on. The list always went on as he learned, picking up quickly what everyone was putting down. Lithium was his biggest teacher with Heroin a close second, though the latter is definitely more fond.

Aware of his own potential, Raleigh threw himself into becoming Heroin’s right hand man. If Heroin has a problem, Raleigh is the one who deals with it - through words or violence. Perhaps when he was younger, Raleigh would have mourned for the loss of a good life but what’s the use in lamenting what could have been? This is the world he was brought into, this is the world he would survive in. Of course, his current world is better than the former. He dresses better, eats better, is better but Lithium is a constant at Raleigh’s side - sneering and commenting on everything.

Raleigh isn’t a lap dog - filling his master’s ears with honeyed praise and pomp - but rather a pit bull at Heroin’s side. Intelligent and capable, there hasn’t been a problem that Raleigh hasn’t fixed for Heroin yet. Of course, he can’t do anything about Heroin’s inner demons but he can keep things running smoothly long enough to give him a peace of mind. He adapts to what Heroin needs him to be - a reminder, a threat, a friend, a shadow. At public events, Raleigh is always by Heroin’s side, doubling as both his right hand man and a bodyguard for anyone who dares. Polite, cordial even, Raleigh doesn’t waste time or anger when he can, striving for quick efficiency but resorting to unimaginable violence when needed. While not big on bare skin to bare skin contact from his experiences with Lithium, there is very little Raleigh won’t do for Heroin. He doesn’t ask, he just does.

THE MUN.

☾ Royan | CST | She/Her

[dciji-blog]

( * shin deiji . )

scanning shin deiji, he is twenty-two years old and read as audacious but hazardous, which explains why he is referred to as the scelestic. before virtual reality he was battling multiple personality disorder and living in japan. he’s been said to look incredibly similar to park jimin, but he’s never seen it. in this new virtual world, he plans on finally taming his temper and hopes to never go back to reality.

trigger warning: multiple personality disorder, abuse ( physical, emotional, sexual ), death, murder, violence, blood, adoption.

heeeeeeey-ho, your favourite friendly neighbourhood loser sky is finally here to talk about her beloved Angel™. she/her, twennnnney & from cest aka gmt+2, a nerd. but !! i’m not important here, my baby is sooo i’m really fckn hoping you guys are down for reading some perhaps confusing shit bc i plan on rambling a lot eeek ok here we go.

ps. i hope no one is triggered by this. if you have a problem with any part of my bio, feel free to contact me but only if you genuinely have a problem with it & not because you wanna be an asshole. ok ty~!!

pss. i know that it might seem Extra, introducing so many dark topics here, but abuse, separation & depression are believed to be among the main causes of mpd, so they needed to be included.

psss. i won’t actually be portraying the mental illness itself. it’s only present in my love’s past.

GANG JINYONG:

of course shin deiji isn’t a real name. shin deiji doesn’t exist in reality. at least not with this face. the name they’d attach to his solemn features back home was gang jinyong. jinnie.

born twenty-two years ago on november 11th in ilsan, south korea, this scorpio was raised by a single mother with occasional, undesired appearances of his sperm donor ( his father, but he doesn’t deserve to be called that ).

he was a result of a loveless act, a drunken hookup that failed to turn into anything more. a product of reckless infidelity. his mom, min seo, was a college senior & the guy, jiho, was the owner of a local pub, a married man with two children. when she discovered that she was pregnant & that he was married & uninterested to help her with the baby, she threatened to ruin his marriage if he did not support her financially.

he did so during her pregnancy. she kept asking him for help even after giving birth ( naturally, bc her parents didn’t want to support her & she had to drop out of college so she had no income whatsoever. couldn’t work bc who’d take care of tiny jinnie then ? ). he found them a decent apartment & gave her a job at the bar. jinnie grew up in that bar and watched men catcall, emotionally & sexually abuse his v young mother night after night. he even witnessed jiho slap her a couple of times when she asked for a raise or complained about the regular customers being nasty towards her.

min seo, bless her soul, was a wonderful mother. she put her child first and would rather starve than let her kid walk around hungry. but during the years of torture she became very mentally ill & she would snap at jinnie during her breakdowns. afterwards, though, she’d fall on her knees in front of the tiny kiddo & apologise, kiss his little cheeks & forehead.

when he grew up, he became a victim of the drunks as well. i don’t feel like writing about that now, it was too nasty.

experiencing all of this first hand, more often than not, jin would lock himself away & daydream about a better life. either a life where he was capable of protecting himself or a life in which he was appreciated. those two were among many scenarios he’d get lost in. 

while he was still young he dealed with some blackouts & memory loss. he couldn’t figure out how he ended up standing in a particular room. he couldn’t remember certain conversations or things he had done. it was a rare occurrence at first, but as he got older & more plagued by tragedies, it became more frequent.

min seo, believing she was doing the right thing, gave jinyong away when he was eleven. he would’ve been taken away from her anyway, since she was deemed an unfit parent & jin was growing up in an unhealthy environment.

the separation made his illness even worse, it really did. that’s when he had the most alts who distracted him. however, all of them merged and then split into two, leaving jin only with jiu & jeaki.

he was adopted by won mina & jongin, who moved to tokyo, japan with him a year later.

he went to school there & was a remarkable student who was especially interested in nanotechnology.

personality-wise, he was more of a quiet type. not shy but he didn’t like to speak when he had nothing smart to say. blunt af, honest. though, still considerate & kind.

JIU:

the only major alt that survived besides his most prominent one, jeaki.

jiu loves fashion more than life itself. sometimes jin would wake up in piles of new clothes & then look in the mirror and see that his hair’s grey or pink   ------   that’s mostly how he discovered when this alt was in charge of his body. jiu always styled his host. other alts didn’t really care about that, but would sometimes sigh at jiu’s extravagant fashion choices, cashmere suits & silky scarves, while going through the closet.

jiu wasn’t delusional, he knew he was not actually a fae prince, but he liked to view himself as one. no one ever praised him, so he took it upon himself to praise himself.

he was created to battle sexual abuse & the depressing lack of love jin was dealing with.

sweet af. pure. heart of gold. god of love. lecherous. classy.

heart-shaped sunglasses. dimmed lights with a rosy glow. tasty, edible lip scrubs. summer.

JEAKI:

main alt. he came when jin was feeling helpless. when anger was bubbling inside of him & ached to be released. he was initially envisioned as a protector of both jinyong & his mother, but soon jin could no longer control him & jeaki became a separate personality with a mind of his own. he started appearing more when jin moved to tokyo to live with his adoptive parents. with a tongue as sharp as a razor & steel knuckles that aren’t afraid to fight back, he failed to manage his wrath whenever he was present.

he was aware of his host & other alts and he wanted to do everything he could to be the most superior alt, often engaging in conflicts with them in jin’s mind even when he was not controlling his body. he managed to consume a couple of minor alts.

he’s not your typical murderous alt you know in media. no, he was never violent just because and he was never aggressive when unprovoked. as i said, he was there to fight back for jin, who was too afraid to do it himself.

thunderstorms. static noise. heavy eyeliner. danger. sore knuckles. bruised skin. jumping out of a plane. taking risks. cats. glares. autumn.

the night of doom: jeaki didn’t have the time to change from jiu’s ridiculous clothes. he needed to go out & get some fresh air. he was angry. mina yelled at jin because of a bad grade, not knowing that he, jeaki, took that test insted of jinnie. jeaki was the one feeling worthless so he needed to go out & cool down. but when his anger management issues combined with a street thug calling him out on his ( jiu’s ) fashion choices & using slurs ( reminding him of his days back at the bar in ilsen ), he could only see red. he started a fight without the intention to end a life, but that’s what happened.

TRANSITION: 

jinyong came back to his senses in the middle of the street with dirt & blood on his knuckles & face, beaten, but without a sign of the other’s body anywhere around him. he had no memory of what had happened, but he was having a panic attack & didn’t trust his adoptive parents enough to ask for help.

not long after that jinyong was tracked down & supposed to be charged for murder but a psychiatrist managed to prove that jin had dissociative identity disorder, so they placed him in a mental hospital.

alone, terrified & clueless of jeaki’s deed, jin cried his eyes out in his room in the hospital, until everything around him started pixelating.

SHIN DEIJI:

present day. no, there was not an epic war between alts & their host in order to determine who’d be the cured version of him in this world. it was peaceful. fragments of jin, jiu & jeaki merged in order to form a boy who thoroughly knows himself, but doesn’t know how he’ll react to anything. the voices from his head are gone   ------   they all speak at the same time when he opens his mouth.

seeing how he’s the perfect harmony of the three boys that used to live in his body, he couldn’t choose one of their names. he also didn’t want to be associated with anything from his past. that’s when he adopted the name shin deiji, deiji meaning daisy, his mother’s favourite flower. he might introduce himself to you as daisy rather than deiji if you don’t speak korean.

depending on what kind of person you are, you will be shown an appropriate side of deiji’s personality. so, when a couple of different people sit down and start talking about deiji, they might realise that it sounds as if they’re talking about different individuals.

he doesn’t trust people easily. he’d rather die than let anyone lay a poisonous hand on him again. he sticks up for himself. he’s his own protector and best friend. he’ll play you before you even think about playing him.

him not trusting people doesn’t mean he doesn’t engage in various interactions with them. he loves to charm his way into people’s lives because he’s no longer scared that he’ll blackout & do something that he won’t remember afterwards. something that he won’t be fully aware of & unable to control.

hooo, boy. he’s so angry. if you’re rude to him, he’ll be twice as rude to you. always wants to one up others. always. if you’re playing a game ?? he will lie & cheat & do everything to win. then lie about lying & cheating. if he still loses, expect a hissy fit.

god. affection. give this boy affection. would 11/10 die if someone cuddled him. especially when he’s being Extra with his raging, burning anger. he’d just ... melt tf away.

loves to party ?? he doesn’t have to take his medication anymore, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to drink and get high every chance he gets. get those nasty substances away from him. they took his mother away.

he’s forgiven his mother for every single bad word she directed towards him bc he knows what it’s like battling a mental illness. he’d give anything for a chance to see her again & tell her that he loves her.

nanotechnology is still the love of his life & he’s still such a nerd and wants to know what tf is up with this virtual world & figure out how it works but like ... he’s a scared bambi that fears that he’ll get sent back to his own personal hell if he tries to figure out what’s going on.

so rly what he’s focusing on rn is becoming an actor because he has all these FEELINGS that need to be expressed without having a poor individual who’d be hit by that tidal wave. he rly wants to act, he thinks that will help him a lot. the idea of finding roles that would fit each of the personalities he previously consumed makes him all giddy.

pansexual & rly just a sexual person afaf.

so ... basically what i’m giving you here is a screaming nerd who loves to flirt. ok. should’ve only written that. rip.

if you’re still confused: he no longer has mpd. call him deiji/daisy. don’t yell at him. unless you want bad shit to happen ??

if you’ve read all of this, you’re my new best friend & i love you more than anything glrwbgowgo. come plot with me !!