Rick sighed as his depressing thoughts reined his mind. He sat at his desk in his dark, randomly chosen bedroom from last night. He brushed his hand against the polished, wooden finish. It felt cool to his light fingers. Darkness surrounded him, yet light encircled him as well. It was an unsure physical surrounding he found himself in, as well as an emotional one. What now? He thought, lowering his head towards the table. What now?
He wrapped his arms lightly around himself, feeling the cool air decrease in temperature. He had far past the point where he was surprised to find himself in new clothes. He didn't know what they were for, but he knew they were there for a purpose. That's all he needed to know. White Cloak… he's not just a normal bad guy. He's a real threat, and from what I've heard, not afraid to kill any one of us. The light fabric of his clothes tickled his fingers as he did the same. Although the touch and feel of his new clothing felt comfortable and relaxing, his expression was not amused. Rick put a hand to his blonde down-spiky hair and clutched it lightly, thinking hard. He's ready to kill us and just use us for power… Rick realized. Are we even strong enough to defeat such a strong force? He's been practicing for at least five hundred years, while we've barely been doing this for three months. We shouldn't even think to compare to him. What would make us think that we could?
Suddenly, there was a slight knock on the door. Rick jerked his head up in surprise, and peered to the bedroom door. It was closed with a shadowy silhouette portrayed on the dark, cloudy pane. He realized right away who it was and calmed his sympathetic looking expression. He got up with a grunt, his chair screeching as it was pushed backwards to create space. Rick stood up, using more force than he should. His slippers click-clacked on the floor as he neared the door. His new clothes shuffled as his footsteps raised him slightly up and down, up and down like a boat rocking against the waves.
The cold air seemed to disperse as Rick slid the dim door open, and found Marissa bowing her head down, as if asking for forgiveness in shame. Rick's golden, sympathetic eyes seemed to sadden more as he waited for her to speak politely. She stood there, seeming like she had just finished crying. She raised her head a little so Rick could see her reddened eyes, beads of tiny tears at the corners of her eyes. Her mouth was curved wretchedly, and she gave low moans of uncontrollable tears. Rick gave a beckoning stare.
Aside from her sadness, Marissa looked good in hew new clothes as well. She wore a kind of top that was thick at the neck, wide and long enough to cover up to her mouth. She had a thin, expanding sleeve on her left side, and no sleeve at all on the right. It was gray and pale along with her long shorts and regular sandals that made silent noise when she walked. That's why Rick couldn't sense her presence firsthand when she was walking to his room. Marissa inched closer to Rick and resisted meeting eyes with him a bit. For some reason, she just couldn't let him see her like this. Marissa inched a little more closely, and Rick opened his arms in a welcoming motion. Marissa finally took the jump and let the strong arms take control of her, wrapping around her to give her care when she needed caring for. She cried at his shoulder as Rick stared deeply into space, both of them knowing that they had been thinking the same thing. Marissa was always the one to break down into tears first. Even when they were four years old.
"I…I'm…" Marissa tried to get out, her voice cracking at his shoulder. Wet tears began to seep down through Rick's heavy dark yellow Haori, a type of Japanese style short coat. Marissa's voice came out in a choking whisper, barely forming the words she wanted to get out. Redness surrounded her sincere, azure eyes like cracks punched into a wall. Tears leaked out helplessly, and she felt at least somewhat protected in Rick's arms. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't feel like she needed to. She breathed through her nose a whiff of Rick's scent, and immediately she felt a little calmer. His scent always lifted her emotions to some scale, somehow, someway, it always worked for her.
"I know," Rick said, caressing her back with his right hand. "I know," he repeated in a whisper, quiet and delicate enough for Marissa to calm down. She can't stop crying, Rick realized as he closed his eyes in acknowledgement, trying to comfort his closest friend since as long as he could remember in his strong, protective arms that he grew over the years. The time's finally come where I have to stand up more for her now…
PoVS
Mark looked around with the hot sun blazing even hotter than before above. The solid ground was still somewhat cracked, and bits and pieces of rubble lay on the floor, a token of a memory that lasted a minute. He wiped away another sweat drop of perspiration as he stood in the center of the cracks, surrounded by nothing but dancing grass blades and dirt. Mark looked around, examining his surroundings once more to make sure there were no more to be left behind. He closed his eyes as he peered to the right, and declared loudly, "Come out."
On cue, behind a tree yards away from Mark came out the masked Kanadou. His clothes fluttered with the wind slightly, as if doing their own dance without the body working for them. The swaying sleeves chattered lightly within themselves. Kanadou stepped into the sunlight, feeling the warm sun shine down on his all around spiky brown hair. His mask still concealed his identity like Hibiyomi's was; half of it being black, the other half being white. "What do you want?" Mark asked as he turned slowly and heavily to find Kanadou staring right at him through the crescent cuts in the mask he called eyes.
It feels hard to move with these things, Mark realized finally. I can only ignore them when I'm fighting… "Good news," Kanadou's voice came out in a strong whisper. "Kenneth, the Ice Minor and brother of Daniel, the Life Minor is healed now. He is no longer in a death threatening position. The entire group remains," Kanadou concluded.
"Mm," Mark muttered, acknowledged. He closed his eyes solemnly as he thought hard to himself. "Good to hear," he muttered again, his voice steady and quiet, completely peaceful.
"I see you've finally realized the full extent of what I was telling you about back then," Kanadou said, changing the subject.
"Yeah," Mark groaned, now turning his whole body heavily to face Kanadou only a few yards away. Now that he finally realized what Kanadou was saying, he didn't feel like getting praise for it. Things like that didn't really matter.
"You sure the new clothes aren't too much for you?" Kanadou asked, noticing the slump in Mark's slump in his walking pace. His long sleeves continued to sway with the wind.
"No," Mark said, smiling. He rolled up his sleeves and pants to reveal heavy, old style weights, two on each limb. "Not enough yet," Mark said, overestimating himself.
Kanadou laughed with a serious chuckle. "That's good to hear," he said, making a joking tone in his voice. "Those weights are made with the metal Osmium, about fifteen bars on each weight strap. It's the heaviest metal in the world, you know," Kanadou noted, Mark listening with care, yet still confident he could carry eight of those straps – 120 long, thick bars of osmium with his body.
"Is that so?" Mark said, giving a showy smirk to show his toughness that would soon wear off.
"Yeah," Kanadou answered seriously. "Weighing at a specific gravity of twenty-two point fifty-nine, it weighs twice as much as lead, and is the heaviest metal found. You'll never find another eight pairs of weights like those in the world," Kanadou said, making Mark feel even showier.
"Doesn't matter what it weighs. I'll carry it, as long as it'll make me stronger," Mark said confidently. And beneath that mask of his, Kanadou uttered a short smile as well.
PoVS
"One more chance," Madasora said seriously in the dark hallways, standing in front of Zack who was still cut down to half his size, half of his body lost in the Darkness dimension, otherwise known as the interface between Hell and Earth. The dark hallways were still somehow lit up by nonexistent lights, and Zack put an arrogant and annoyed pose on his face.
"No! I'm not giving up the shoe!" he cried out, clutching the Geta slipper tightly in his left hand. Derek sighed and closed his eyes in tiredness.
"Fine then," Madasora finally accepted, his body limping, one side taller than the other. "I guess I'll see you later then," he said, turning around and taking off his slipper, choosing to walk barefoot amongst the plaster paved halls. He motioned for Derek to walk with him as he walked past slowly and coolly, leaving Zack behind with the feelings of his legs still gone.
"W-Wait!" Zack said, his voice growing loud and pleading again. "You're not really going to leave me here like this, are you?" Zack yelled out even louder this time.
"Of course I am!" Madasora said, barely turning back to catch one last glimpse of Zack as he turned the corner, and disappeared from sight. Zack, all alone now in the lit up darkness, began twitching in his eyebrows.
PoVS to Lance, the Metal Minor
My strokes began softening in intensity as I added the finishing touches of detail into the picture. I sat in the barely lit up room, able to see just enough as I stroked the paintbrush with black ink more and more in the same place, trying to darken it and make it bold as much as I could, using my eye for detail on everything. The brush was getting warmer by the second and felt comfortable in my hand. I felt complete with it, as if it were a part of me that always seemed to be missing when I wasn't painting.
I felt all my emotions pour out on the large paper, getting my thoughts and feelings out as a picture, representing how I felt, sort of like a symbol. I smiled as one bead and one bead only of perspiration rolled down the side of my face. I was tired from working so hard on this one picture. I'm losing my spark, I realized.
I churned a small cup of paint with the brush again, and picked it up and began adding more, bolder values to the painting. The painting portrayed the symbol representing yin and yang over the world, the pale side of the symbol carrying a small sliver of an angel's wing that shone brightly with heavenly light. The pale piece was bright and looked hopeful, tinted with certain shades of bright yellow and strong whites. It was being carried by an angel of peace, its wings spread out widely in help.
The other side represented the bold darkness, a dark aura surrounding that one side. It was being pushed down by a fallen angel, its wings set aflame and dark red with stained blood and deviant claws that burned with its touch. The yin-yang sign hung over a portrayal of a planet like a shield, or blanket. It was completely shaded beneath it, like an eclipse.
Surrounding the picture were billions and billions of stars that were like tiny dots that speckled in the dark, navy blue sky. Wisps of unexplainable energy drafted by like cold winds.
"This…" I spoke out to myself in a whisper, writing my words as I said them aloud in penciled paint as a caption by the picture. "…represents the current condition of our lives right now. It stands for our lack of assurance in our lives of what is to happen next. Will White Cloak really get us and grip us tightly in his hold that crushes and grinds for power? Or will we lift ourselves up with the help from each other, flying high to the skies and far away from the one who craves nothing but power? It's something we'll cry about, brag about, and laugh about every day for the rest of our lives until we finally find the answer," I concluded quietly, finishing the last few words and placing the pencil-brush back into its container. I sighed as I gazed upon my painting. Perfect, I complimented myself.
PoVS
Tsukansu and Minoa sat at a table in a wide room. The table was well-built, and they had a cup of tea while talking to each other about the new problems they'll face. Darkness was swept into wide corners of the room and dim lights set the whole room alight. Cooling temperatures filled the area, and both councils looked as if they were having a great time.
"I see you've finally pulled those two out again," Minoa noted, referring to what Tsukansu had taken out of the closet so hesitantly earlier with Hibiyomi watching at his side. Minoa put a nostalgic smile on her face as she watched the two things, looking all powerful and mighty, glistening in the bright light above.
"Yeah," Tsukansu said, his cheeks becoming just a tiny hint of red. "You can't be too safe, you know?" he said, clearing his throat.
"Yeah, I know," Minoa related, turning to her cup of tea. She gripped it tightly with both of her hands, feeling the hot liquid warm the palms of her hands, feeling the hot, steamy wisps of steam wet her face. She smiled as she watched the fog rise from below.
"So," Tsukansu said, clearing his throat once more. "How's your Minor doing?" he asked, trying to make conversation.
Minoa sighed. She hesitated to tell Tsukansu any of it, but decided that she had to let it out to someone. And Tsukansu could be a great listener if he wanted to. "I don't know what to do about her," Minoa began, feeling her face get wetter by the second as the hot steam rose higher and higher, feeling the cool touch of it on her face, almost calming to Minoa's expression. "She feels like she's totally powerless, but what she doesn't realize is that she has the greatest amount of power out of all the Minors," Minoa said.
"I see," Tsukansu listened carefully. He put a thinking pose on his face, Minoa unaware of whether he was really thinking or not.
"She tries hard, she really does, but the fact that she hasn't changed the way she thinks about the basic fabrics of life is getting in her way to such a level, she can't even activate the first level of Visible Darkness without hurting herself too much to the point where she has to give up at least a body part; a limb or something," Minoa explained, bringing the large teacup to her lips and taking a short sip of it, feeling the warm tea fill her body, even if it was just for a second. It felt immediately calming, but her worry soon came back to bite with a stronger grip.
Tsukansu sighed and looked down in deep thought. "I've tried to make her realize that things aren't the way she sees them as, but…" Minoa trailed off for a second, hesitating. Then she decided that she really, really couldn't hold it in any longer, and couldn't stop at this point. "She just doesn't listen."
"You know what?" Tsukansu began to suggest. Minoa blinked blankly with a dull expression painted on her face as she pleaded Tsukansu for the answer silently with her delicate eyes. "I think its best if you…" his voice trailed off for a moment. He gripped his steaming teacup tightly, his eyes closed as he processed loads and loads of thoughts into his mind. "…if you let her be, and let her find out everything on her own," Tsukansu explained. Minoa widened her eyes in acknowledgement.
"What do you mean?" Minoa asked, brushing her hand through her gray-white hair.
"I mean, let her find out everything her own way. If you try to force it in to her, she won't listen, and you'll mess everything up. It's a good thing she's not listening to you," Tsukansu explained. "Just let her be, and let it go for now." Minoa gave a small sigh and looked down. She realized that now… Tsukansu was right.