Goddess of Mercy

Never let it be said, there's no place like home

[psyknife]

                                                   No... I am sick of being used.

                                I am sick of being a tool... a weapon--I'm not an object.

                        I'm not a jewel, a flower or a piece of art for you to collect.

               Independent & semi-selective Kwannon, mostly adhering to Earth-616.

[daywalkwithme]

The hesitance in her posture and her tone wasn't lost on the Daywalker; however, despite the many different supernatural creatures he'd slain over his long and storied hunting career, Eric was still a man of his word at the end of the day. He knew the cost of doing business, knowing when you were in a position to negotiate and when you had to play the hand that you were dealt. "My reputation precedes me for a reason. In the event that you ever find yourself at a crossroads or need our help, Psylocke and I will be there to help you. Besides, I get the feeling you won't have to be worrying about Ji-Won much longer. And I get that you've become taken with this particular type of luxurious lifestyle, so if you wanna keep it up, I can pay you enough to ensure that you keep up with it. You're not asking for our protection, and I'm not asking for your loyalty. Just two folks trying to make ends meet in their own respective ways." He pulled out a card from his trench coat, and tossed it in her direction. "For whenever you're ready to do business, or you need a helping hand. Be seeing you." With a mini salute, the Daywalker jumped out the window, disappearing into the night to reunite with Kwannon.

>>Yeah, had a talk with her. Don't know if trust is the right word you're looking for, but we came to an understanding. We can count on her now and in the future. I'm headed down your way now.<<

It was rather easy to lock in on Kwannon's scent, even with the perks of having a psychic connection with his partner. Executing a bushido technique with his sword, he sliced directly through the wall near the ninja's location, and several thick layers of metal completely fell apart in shambles, stepping through the hole in the wall as if nothing happened. "Miss me?" Blade dusted his shoulders off without missing a beat, giving a small smirk towards Kwannon as he directed his attention towards Ji-Won. "You ain't looking so good Ji-Won. Maybe you should've thought twice before snagging my fang like I'm your prized possession. Nobody owns me, especially not a pampered, self-serving son of a bitch like you, and you sure as hell don't own her," he snarled, before lifting his boot and smashing it directly into his face, more than leaving his mark. "You got that code? We can put that to good use, take what we came for, and get the hell up out of here. But if you wanna do something with this guy, I won't stop you."

[psyknife]

"Ji-Won is not the only one I worry about," the kumiho replied with a slight scoff before seeing him off. Her line of work brought more enemies than friends. Have a few people on her side who worked in the grey was an advantage she wouldn't pass up. For now, she decided she should probably spend her time packing up her things and finding a better place for a new home. After she took some of Ji-Won's finer things, of course. "No... I'm quite content letting him wander around with a broken face. Letting him continue with his ruined pride is a better punishment than any." The irony wasn't lost on her when he drove his boot into the man's face and a bloody dislodged tooth casually rolled out onto the floor. "Hey... tit for tat?" She nodded at it with slight amusement on her face. "I don't think it will fetch you much, though. But if you're into scrapbooking..."

[psyknife]

@becry: " i can hardly believe i am saying this, but we cannot go further. "

"We absolutely can." It didn't matter that every single muscle fibre in her body felt like it was on fire. She wasn't going to let them stop now. "You're the one who invited me to this obstacle course. It's only fair that one of us finishes it!"

[spectracle]

“i know,” dazzler smiles, her eyes creasing at the corners. “you’re not the type of person to give up easily, kwannon; you’re too good for that.”

alison blaire knows all too well about choices, as well as the lack of them in unideal circumstances that force your hand by twisting it mercilessly – and leave you with the aftermath for life, even if you brave the battle; the war is what you ought to spend your whole life surviving.

but that is no way to live; that is no way to spend her limited time on earth when there are friends to cherish, people to get to know better — for who and what they are now, not a version of their long-gone self that is no longer there to defend themselves.

“bingo, you know me so well already,” alison grins, absolutely no shame in admitting her stubbornness in this regard, then she beams at the good news. “best friends! and i wouldn’t count it as a defeat, let’s be victors together – how does dinner sound? my treat.”

[psyknife]

"Wait, hold on..." Kwannon raised her hands defensively, though there wasn't an ounce of seriousness in her tone or gestures. "Best friends? Isn't that jumping ahead a little?" Her brows knotted together in mock confusion. There was nothing wrong with being a little silly, was there? "Depends on the dinner. We're not talking fancy, are we? Because I'm not going dressed like this." She gestured down at herself, which wasn't anything remotely close to being considered "nice." ... at least her outfit didn't smell.

[psyknife]

@becry: " i was afraid even of my own reflection. "

"It can be hard to look at ourselves sometimes, knowing what we know and the things we've done. But you can't exactly run away from yourself, can you?"

[emmatriarchy]

"It means Charisma." She decided to stop toying with Kwannon and be straightforward with it.

She chuckled. "As far as I know, not many people think he's straightforward. I think he'd like to know that you think that way."

She winked at her fellow warrior, and put her hands in her pockets. "I mean, he used to be the sex-ed teacher. So I know I can ask him questions when I have them."

Having a reliable adult friend who could answer any question she had, no matter how awkward they could be, was a big advantage in Gabby's eyes. It wasn't like she could ask Laura about that stuff - though Laura probably could very clinically and medically detail her answers, that wasn't what Gabby was looking for. She wanted someone who would answer any weird question popping in her mind and wouldn't meet her with detached, scientific answers only.

[psyknife]

Adjusting to the English rattling around in her brain had been hard enough, but now that the current generation was changing up the language on her, it was growing increasingly more difficult to keep up. "Then I would say my earlier assessment is correct. Charismatic, he is not. But he is not lacking in personality, if that makes sense." Charming is not a word she would put to her sibling. "Wait, used to be?" Now this sounded like a piece of gossip, one that brought a little light to her expression. "Did he get in trouble...?"

[psyknife]

@becry: " love changes nothing. "

"Cynicism does not become you," Kwannon replied curtly. If there was one thing she believed could change people, it was love. Perhaps in ways that others may not see, but to say that it was ineffective? That it couldn't cleanse an ugly soul? If that were true, then what hope would there be for her to try? "Unless you've been hurt by it in the past, then that wasn't true love, if I'm being honest."

[psyknife]

@becry: " tell me what you thought about, when you were alone. "

Kwannon's lips pulled a little thinner, but only just, at Cassidy's question. In those moments when she was alone (which had been 99% of the time), her thoughts only turned to ugly things. Things that would be better left unsaid. For the old her, anyway. "When I wasn't on a mission? My thoughts drifted to the faces of everyone I've taken from their loved ones. It is what I deserved, creating so many ghosts. ... why do you want to know?"

[sstartwork]

[kamenriderryukisurvivesworld]

[nthomasartist]

Kwannon - Psylocke

did a bit of smaller picture her a little while back and knew it was time to do a more full outfit look for her :)!

Twitter | Instagram | Bluesky

[spectracle]

look, ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ stage ‎ ‎ ‎ performer ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ global ‎ ‎ ‎ superstar, ‎ ‎ ‎ dazzler ‎ ‎ ‎ knows ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ importance ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ build-ups, ‎ ‎ ‎ priming, ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ communication. right ‎ ‎ ‎ now, ‎ ‎ ‎ though, ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ kind ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ … ‎ ‎ ‎ can’t ‎ ‎ ‎ do ‎ ‎ ‎ that. ‎ ‎ ‎ lives ‎ ‎ ‎ are ‎ ‎ ‎ on ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ stake, ‎ ‎ ‎ she’s ‎ ‎ ‎ going ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ die, ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ multiverse ‎ ‎ ‎ might ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ well ‎ ‎ ‎ collapse ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ hell ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ it ‎ ‎ ‎ while ‎ ‎ ‎ life ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ at ‎ ‎ ‎ it. ‎ ‎ ‎ so ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ other ‎ ‎ ‎ words, ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ tuesday ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ life ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ jolene ‎ ‎ ‎ blaire. she’ll ‎ ‎ ‎ bulldoze ‎ ‎ ‎ through ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ walls ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ cut ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ chase ‎ ‎ ‎ kool-aid ‎ ‎ ‎ man ‎ ‎ ‎ style ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ dearly ‎ ‎ ‎ hope ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ telepathic ‎ ‎ ‎ friend ‎ ‎ ‎ can ‎ ‎ ‎ fill ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ gaps. “look, ‎ ‎ ‎ kwannon, ‎ ‎ ‎ you’re ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ best ‎ ‎ ‎ person ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ this, ‎ ‎ ‎ trust ‎ ‎ ‎ me,” ‎ ‎ ‎ manicured ‎ ‎ ‎ hands ‎ ‎ ‎ on ‎ ‎ ‎ kwannon’s ‎ ‎ ‎ shoulders ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ emphasis, ‎ ‎ ‎ because ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ cannot ‎ ‎ ‎ stress ‎ ‎ ‎ this ‎ ‎ ‎ enough ‎ ‎ ‎ under ‎ ‎ ‎ these ‎ ‎ ‎ stressful ‎ ‎ ‎ circumstances. ‎ ‎ ‎ “it’s ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ best ‎ ‎ ‎ idea ‎ ‎ ‎ because ‎ ‎ ‎ there’s ‎ ‎ ‎ no ‎ ‎ ‎ other ‎ ‎ ‎ way ‎ ‎ ‎ - ‎ ‎ ‎ sort ‎ ‎ ‎ of. ‎ ‎ ‎ you’re ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ closest ‎ ‎ ‎ person ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ can ‎ ‎ ‎ trust ‎ ‎ ‎ wholly, ‎ ‎ ‎ my ‎ ‎ ‎ team ‎ ‎ ‎ trusts ‎ ‎ ‎ you, ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ x-men ‎ ‎ ‎ would ‎ ‎ ‎ take ‎ ‎ ‎ you ‎ ‎ ‎ seriously, ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ be ‎ ‎ ‎brutally ‎ ‎ ‎ honest, ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ can’t ‎ ‎ ‎ think ‎ ‎ ‎ under ‎ ‎ ‎ pressure ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ can’t ‎ ‎ ‎ think ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ anybody ‎ ‎ ‎ else ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ ask.” “best ‎ ‎ ‎ case ‎ ‎ ‎ scenario; ‎ ‎ ‎ we ‎ ‎ ‎ won’t ‎ ‎ ‎ have ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ use ‎ ‎ ‎ any ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ these ‎ ‎ ‎ safety ‎ ‎ ‎ nets ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ my ‎ ‎ ‎ death ‎ ‎ ‎ count ‎ ‎ ‎ stays ‎ ‎ ‎ at ‎ ‎ ‎ nine ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ you ‎ ‎ ‎ don’t ‎ ‎ ‎ have ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ waste ‎ ‎ ‎ your ‎ ‎ ‎ time ‎ ‎ ‎ on ‎ ‎ ‎ me ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ we ‎ ‎ ‎ all ‎ ‎ ‎ have ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ nice ‎ ‎ ‎ day. ‎ ‎ ‎ worst ‎ ‎ ‎ case ‎ ‎ ‎ scenario…” ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ exhales ‎ ‎ ‎ slow ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ deep, ‎ ‎ ‎ even ‎ ‎ ‎ when ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ feels ‎ ‎ ‎ too ‎ ‎ ‎ restless ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ either. ‎ ‎ ‎ “i’d ‎ ‎ ‎ rather ‎ ‎ ‎ have ‎ ‎ ‎ one ‎ ‎ ‎ lifeline ‎ ‎ ‎ so ‎ ‎ ‎ i’m ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ completely ‎ ‎ ‎ trapped, ‎ ‎ ‎ no ‎ ‎ ‎ matter ‎ ‎ ‎ what. ‎ ‎ ‎ no ‎ ‎ ‎ one ‎ ‎ ‎ has ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ save ‎ ‎ ‎ me, ‎ ‎ ‎ just ‎ ‎ ‎ — ‎ ‎ ‎ keep ‎ ‎ ‎ that ‎ ‎ ‎ door ‎ ‎ ‎ open ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ me ‎ ‎ ‎ so ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ can ‎ ‎ ‎ crawl ‎ ‎ ‎ out. ‎ ‎ ‎ know ‎ ‎ ‎ what ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ mean?” ‎ ‎ ‎ god, ‎ ‎ ‎ stress ‎ ‎ ‎ really ‎ ‎ ‎ cramps ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ metaphor ‎ ‎ ‎ game; ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ hopes ‎ ‎ ‎ kwannon ‎ ‎ ‎ doesn’t ‎ ‎ ‎ see ‎ ‎ ‎ this ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ reflection ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ dazzler’s ‎ ‎ ‎ songwriting ‎ ‎ ‎ abilities, ‎ ‎ ‎ good ‎ ‎ ‎ grief.

[psyknife]

Reliable, she had been called plenty of times. Give her a task and she would see it through to the end, unless she had a better reason for not doing so. Responsibility, Kwannon could handle, especially when it came to taking charge of a team. She was better at seeing all of the details more than most. But this... She didn't like her choice of words. "Saving a life is never a waste of time," Kwannon replied grimly, her hand gripped tight to Alison's shoulder. Even with the number of times all of that had pretty much "died," there was no reason to throw it away like it was another Tuesday. "I will accept your trust in me. As long as you promise to try and come back. No giving up because 'it gets too hard.' Or so help me, I will come after you, and you won't like that very much."

[legion-transcendent]

   David doesn’t block. He ducks and backs up. An instinct forged from being surrounded by guys bigger and stronger than him taking over. An instinct to duck, weave and get the Hell out of reach as quickly as possible. He heard her words, that mention of being on the defensive. Logic told him this is a safe space, a place to train and learn, but the moment Kwannon swung that pad at him all that instinct took hold. Even now, his posture stays low and crouched. Fingers clawed.

   It takes him a second to realise what he’s done and when he does, he feels his features heat up in embarrassment. He straightens, a hand rising to rub at the back of his neck.

   “Fuck, sorry. Kinda … kinda just followed my instinct there,” he says, giving a sheepish grimace. “Not used to blocking. Most folk who’ve tried to hit me would knock me down regardless o’ me blockin’ or not.” He gestures to himself. “Lack o’ paddin’. Y’ know?”

[psyknife]

Kwannon was honestly surprised at his reaction, believing that he was more used to throwing his mind around than engaging in anything physical. To see his reflexes at work... He was better than he realized. "Don't apologize. And that's nothing to be embarrassed about. Being on the defensive also entails avoiding being hit, so it's not like you got the lesson wrong." She smacked the pads together in thought. His speed, she could definitely work with, especially if he was fast enough to avoid a hit. Blocking used up a lot more energy than people realized. "How about we try that again? I want to see how fast you really are. If that's okay with you, of course." She held up the pads again, and waited for his approval. If he agreed, she would take another swing, though with a bit more power behind it this time.

[spectracle]

that‎ ‎ ‎ elicits‎ ‎ ‎ a‎ ‎ ‎ quiet‎ ‎ ‎ chuckle‎ ‎ ‎ from‎ ‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ ‎ polarising‎ ‎ ‎ popstar,‎ ‎ ‎ who‎ ‎ ‎ is‎ ‎ ‎ also‎ ‎ ‎ familiar‎ ‎ ‎ with‎ ‎ ‎ her‎ ‎ ‎ starry‎ ‎ ‎ version‎ ‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ ‎ living‎ ‎ ‎ rent-free‎ ‎ ‎ in‎ ‎ ‎ people’s‎ ‎ ‎ heads,‎ ‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ ‎ say‎ ‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ ‎ least. “in‎ ‎ ‎ a‎ ‎ ‎ way,‎ ‎ ‎ sure,‎ ‎ ‎ it‎ ‎ ‎ sounds‎ ‎ ‎ cool,‎ ‎ ‎ like‎ ‎ ‎ ‘genetic‎ ‎ ‎ pariah’‎ ‎ ‎ and‎ ‎ ‎ ‘freaks‎ ‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ ‎ nature’‎ ‎ ‎ or‎ ‎ ‎ whatever‎ ‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ ‎ antis‎ ‎ ‎ try‎ ‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ ‎ insult‎ ‎ ‎ us‎ ‎ ‎ mutants‎ ‎ ‎ with,”‎ ‎ ‎ she‎ ‎ ‎ replies,‎ ‎ ‎ casual‎ ‎ ‎ and‎ ‎ ‎ conversational,‎ ‎ ‎ pausing‎ ‎ ‎ briefly‎ ‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ ‎ let‎ ‎ ‎ her‎ ‎ ‎ bubblegum‎ ‎ ‎ balloon‎ ‎ ‎ up,‎ ‎ ‎ only‎ ‎ ‎ for‎ ‎ ‎ it‎ ‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ ‎ snap‎ ‎ ‎ out‎ ‎ ‎ with‎ ‎ ‎ a‎ ‎ ‎ light‎ ‎ ‎ pop‎ ‎ ‎ anyway.‎ ‎ ‎ “but‎ ‎ ‎ if‎ ‎ ‎ i’m‎ ‎ ‎ bein’‎ ‎ ‎ honest,‎ ‎ ‎ like‎ ‎ ‎ really‎ ‎ ‎ honest?‎ ‎ ‎ edgy‎ ‎ ‎ cloaked‎ ‎ ‎ skeletons‎ ‎ ‎ are‎ ‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ ‎ most‎ ‎ ‎ ‘grim‎ ‎ ‎ reapery’‎ ‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ ‎ me‎ ‎ ‎ —‎ ‎ ‎ blame‎ ‎ ‎ it‎ ‎ ‎ on‎ ‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ ‎ cartoons‎ ‎ ‎ i‎ ‎ ‎ grew‎ ‎ ‎ up‎ ‎ ‎ with.”

[psyknife]

"That sounds a lot more dramatic than it should be. You'd see one coming from a mile away. Looking like a normal person, however..." All her life, it had been easy for Kwannon to slip into places she needed to be but wasn't allowed to go, delivering her own brand of death to those who "deserved" it. "Scythes, in my experience, are also pretty unwieldy. Especially in an alleyway. Not my first weapon of choice."

[dayzarisn]

@psyknife

blade moved through the foul guts of the alley, his boots silent, save for the few puddles he stepped across. even with the dead weight he carried. kwannon’s body was slung across his chest, as if she didn’t weigh anything at all, leather coat creaking, one arm locked across her knees, the other across her back.

the bitter taste of miswak and his special formula filled his cheek and gums, holding hunger at bay while the scent of kwannon’s blood filled the air, copper and crushed orchids. It was she who spoke, voice tight with pain and that razor edge to her attitude that he found he kind of respected.

blade’s mouth twisted, not quite a smile, but close, a creature scenting blood traversing the wind.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ you a little too messed up right now to be talking shit, ain't you? ” his voice was low, gravel and dry smoke, the kind that came from too many nights chewing on worse things than insults.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ don't forget i can drop you here. ❞ he didn’t slow down, didn’t change his hold. just kept cutting through the dark like the alley owed him money, crimson lenses catching the faint glow of distant streetlights. her blood was already drying on his glove, warm and sticky against the leather.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ you were twitchin’ like road kill back there. figured the corner was safer than catchin’ a stray round between those pretty eyes. ” he looked down at her for just long enough for her to see amusement, and the boredom with the complaint.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ but next time I’ll practice the good samaritan laws by the letter and ask permission before I save your ass. ” his thumb pressed once against her side, not gentle, just checking the wound without making a show of it. the night swallowed them both, and blade never lost a trail—even when the trail was mouthy and bleeding all over his new trench coat.

[psyknife]

"In my experience, it's better to 'talk shit' and pass the time remaining conscious that letting blood loss take me, no? You'll have to worry less about whether I'm a corpse or not, so despite how annoying this may be for you, I'm doing you a favour," Kwannon managed through the pain. She was fueling her energy to staying angry so that she could remain awake. Because the thought of being unconscious... "A bullet in the head or the chance of landing on dirty needles, a rusty garbage can lid, and rat feces. I'll take what's behind door number five, Bob..." Uh oh. She was partly aware of the strange words that slipped out, her brow furrowing with both confusion and worry. That was not a memory of hers, which meant that things were not as alright as she thought they were. "I think... I'm going to throw up..."

[spectracle]

alison‎ ‎ shrugs.‎ ‎ “isn’t‎ ‎ that‎ ‎ true‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ everybody ‎ anyway,‎ ‎ philosophically‎ ‎ speakin’?‎ ‎ nobody’s‎ ‎ just‎ ‎ their‎ ‎ worst‎ ‎ times ‎ or‎ ‎ who ‎ they‎ ‎ were‎ ‎ before‎ ‎ they‎ ‎ knew‎ ‎ any‎ ‎ better,‎ ‎ yanno‎ ‎ —‎ ‎ like‎ ‎ when‎ ‎ i‎ ‎ think‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ my‎ ‎ time‎ ‎ in‎ ‎ LA?‎ ‎ boy,‎ ‎ what‎ ‎ a‎ ‎ piece‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ f*#&in’‎ ‎ work‎ ‎ i‎ ‎ was‎ ‎ –”

“–and‎ ‎ am,‎ ‎ but‎ ‎ anyhow,‎”‎ ‎ dazzler‎ ‎ sighs,‎ ‎ before‎ ‎ glancing‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ other’s‎ ‎ way.‎ ‎ “i’m‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ last‎ ‎ person‎ ‎ qualified‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ be‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ judge‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ anybody’s‎ ‎ character, ‎ but‎ ‎ i‎ ‎ know‎ ‎ who‎ ‎ i‎ ‎ want‎ ‎ to‎ ‎ be‎ ‎ friends‎ ‎ with,‎ ‎ and‎ ‎ you’re‎ ‎ high‎ ‎ up‎ ‎ that‎ ‎ list,‎ ‎ kwannon.‎ ‎ as‎ ‎ you‎ ‎ are,‎ ‎ now.”

[psyknife]

This had less to do with her transition from youth to adulthood, and more to do with the things she'd been made to do... and that she went along with. Because she didn't know anything else. Even now, with the experiences of other options, she still resorted to the same things, because it was simply what she was good at. But she wasn't going to explain or dispute the other's opinion. That could come across as too self-deprecating. "Lucky for you that loyalty's a second skin for me." Her expression lightened, possibly even into a smile. "From the sounds of it, there's probably nothing I can say to convince you otherwise at this point. So, for once, you've managed to defeat me somehow. A first in my book."

[legion-transcendent]

   “I know how that is,” he says with a deep, tired sigh. His shoulders sag, like a weight has settled on them. “Every time I get in a good place mentally, I get so fuckin’ anxious. Just constantly lookin’ out for the next thing to send me spiralling all over again. The next thing to break me and cause me to go nuclear. Makes it real hard to really utilise the good days, y’ know? It’s no way to live but it’s hard to get outta that mindset when you’ve been wired for survival for so long.”

   He really does understand. He’s been in survival mode since he was eight. Surviving a terrorist attack. Surviving in an institution practically designed to be a living Hell. Surviving his own seething mind. Even surviving his own father’s attempts to control him. Everything is a threat. Everyone is a threat. Makes it difficult to live and it’s something he’s trying to work through. Trying but not always succeeding.

   “Hey, there’s nothin’ wrong with that,” he continues, not wanting to make her feel bad. “You’re honest with y’ thoughts and y’ blunt. It’s not a bad thing. Can be refreshin’ being around someone not willing to tip toe around other people’s bullshit. I think y’ need someone who will listen to you. Better than keepin’ all the negativity inside.”

[psyknife]

Heavy is the hand that wields the knife. She should talk to someone, anyone who would listen, but what would any of them have to offer other than platitudes and shifting blame so that she became more of a victim of circumstances? "You are probably one of the few to consider my opinions 'refreshing.' Though that's not the word most people use." Confrontational was more like it. Or playing Devil's Advocate. She was the machete that cut down the bush instead of beating around it. "Thankfully, I have other means of getting the negativity out. Nothing to do with words, of course." She was pretty sure she didn't need to elaborate. "And you? How do you get the negativity out?"