Teenage Infant Prodigy

Izuru Kamukura RP blog. There are many different varieties, found in the Variants link. Leave if you care about SDR2 Spoilers.

[shsltalent]

♆ I See a Vampire ♆

[kibouai-blog]

A force pushes at Nagito’s back. He can feel the calmly sizzling magical aura press at his own emanating aura, the magnetism causing his skin to tingle. It seems someone noteworthy has shown up. The demon chuckles, closing his eyes. Despite that, he can still clearly see the stranger through an invisible third eye, a simple spell cast without more than a brief thought.

…Oh? Clearly human, save for those glowing eyes. But why is it that they exude a considerable amount of power?

Sun garnet eyes lift crack again slightly, silver thick lashes shrouding his amused squint. No reason to pay much mind if he’s nothing to say to me. The vampire muses, lifting a leather-gloved hand to a circular engraving upon the doors. 

Demaia language was written on it, in finer print than the rest of the design. In the center was a tree carved in, it’s sprawling branches reaching out to the edges of the imperfect circle. The wayward king thoughtfully runs his teeth under his fangs, thinking of ways to make sense of the first puzzle of this temple, the entryway’s lock.

[shsltalent]

Kamukura's hair is far too long to stand on end, but his neck prickles nonetheless. Magic. Either something particularly strong or directed towards him. Maybe both. He steps forward once more, this time cutting to the left.

He's no longer breathing, just examining what more of the stranger he can see. If it weren't for the slight flicks of his eyes, he could be petrified. For a moment they flicker, the whites disappearing into blank red, then Kamukura blinks. Only one person, several magic signatures. He brought magic items along with him. The maze always likes that.

If the stranger figures out how to get in. Kamukura checks; the inscription hasn't worn away while he left. It's the same as ever, and something as magical as the stranger should know some of the basics. He's still merely looking. He isn't literate enough, then.

"What do you want?" Kamukura asks evenly. He doesn't spread his feet into a fighting stance; his magic is oozing again. He spreads his fingers, lets the tiny dribble come in long minutes. It'll be enough if he needs to summon more later. He can feel the familiar tug as his face turns to the door, although his eyes never leave the stranger.

[shsltalent]

♆ I See a Vampire ♆

[kibouai-blog]

Unfaltering, Nagito advances towards the temples gaping entry, where the massive doors are sealed tightly. His boots clack up the stone steps, his stare scanning the letters carved into the doors. Demon language, chiseled finely upon the smooth, aged stone. Stepping over the last of the steep stairway, the vampire walks up to the colossal door and peaks in through a crack to see spot of firelight flickering and spheres of magic that floated over what seemed to be an elaborate room. 

He lets out an excited breath, the air hissing with the sudden expulsion of magic and venom. 

[shsltalent]

Izuru is fast when he wants to be. He stands five paces behind Nagito, still on the steps. His hair swings as his head tilts. The new angle doesn't help him make any more sense of the stranger. Rust eyes squint at Nagito, then he moves a step forward.

Another step.

He's three paces away now. His breath fills the air in thick cloudy streams. His one hand is hidden in the folds of his loose pants; the other swings idly by his side.

[shsltalent]

I See a Vampire

[kibouai-blog]

Morning finches nestled lushly chirp, filling the crisp morning air with their hushed songs. Somewhere within the forest was a trail that led to the wall of a cliff, and at the top of it stood a vast temple. It is in that sprawling stone maze where a magic-locked chest was buried, housing a single item, coveted by many. The Akimuzi Amulet.

“It’s said that wearing it would grant the user much more quicker magic recovery,” the pale, fanged male utters, walking up a towering pine tree, his stature at ease and straight as the magic fizzles quietly beneath his boots, securing him to the tree and allowing him free movement. “Quite the handy tool.” He chuckles, before crouching to propel himself to another pine, then to another, darting through the forest in blurred flashes.

With the last leap, he’s cleared the forest. In an instant, his figure darkens, pooling into a shadow upon the cliff wall. Swiftly, he shifts upwards, headed for the crumbling temple. Upon gliding over the edge, the flat figure morphs upwards into the vampire’s humanoid form again. Amber eyes scan the massive structure before him, slender white fingers reach for the bejeweled dagger at his hip. The aura that emanated from the temple boomed invisibly, causing his dead heart to race.

There’s a pause. Is that…?

A long, thoughtful sniff. This scent…

What could it be? 

[shsltalent]

The presence is distant, dull, growing. Until it isn't. Izuru's steady pace falters when he's prodded with the sharp feeling of strong magic. So, they're going for the maze. His eyes don't narrow, his hands don't clench. He's flying the next instant, weaving between the trees with an ease born of talent and memory. He drifts above the obstacles after he's gotten past his impulse.

He wants to see what's going on. It's not the maze he's worried about- it can take care of itself, and will. He just wants to heed its warning. He doesn't know how long the intruder will last. They might wander for weeks, they might be incinerated attempting a complex spell.

His curiosity is a strength only because he's never met something too strong to fight.

[shsltalent]

I See a Vampire

Kamukura's not relieved to be alone with his thoughts, but he doesn't dread it either. He's been finding this time to himself more and more often. Sometimes he's hidden away with tomes, filled with words in languages he understands in fluent tongues. Sometimes he's writing his own tome, a report of his days for the Council.

Today he's doing "field work".

There's a presence on the edge of his consciousness, an uncomfortable feeling he needs to recognize. It feels stronger than anything he's felt before, except maybe the temple itself. It isn't like the aimless magic there. This magic is concentrated, potent, in a way that has to mean living.

It's northeast and moving closer. He walks towards it, not hurried or shuffling. Just walking. He can go all day, and if it takes a week to find the presence he'll just offer an apology to them later.

[shsltalent]

He could hear footsteps approaching, the same tread he'd memorized with ease. Surely as binary, it started again. The empty curiousity. It was exhausting trying to ignore it, so he'd stopped, but that only made him angry. He'd never thought that he'd like Komaeda. He'd never wanted to like Komaeda, or anyone really. He didn't have enough time to check for changes in the group, work on the sleeping SHSL, and sleep when he wanted to spend more time in the company of a boy with hair like a graveyard for combs than was necessary.

He stepped aside, waited for Komaeda to turn the corner, and considered trying to trip him, just to see what'd happen, but that'd make it certain he'd stop and then he'd just. Talk to him. For now there was a chance some urgent business was occurring far, far away. His hand drifted back to tug at his hair.

[shsltalent]

He goes to the council again; he needs a room. But he has a room, they say. And he explains he needs someplace quiet, but with space. They direct him to a classroom, tell him to file a report on his progress at the end of the week. He does, but pages have slowed to a couple of lines, brief updates.

He goes, sets a page carefully at each seat. It's just names, files on those around him, the greatest in the world, and a quick sketch of each. And what he dislikes the most about them. The way they're lazy, unobservant, rude, quick to anger, concerned with trivial matters, carefully charts every failure and flaw, trying to remember that just because he doesn't live through their flaws doesn't mean they're smaller than his shortcomings. How he's gotten so far compared to them, learned in months what took them years.

He pulls out his knife. He remembered learning just the right angle to slice open flesh or straw dummies, and the rush of exhilaration. He picks up the nearest paper, stabs neatly through it and then tugs it to the side to cut it partially in half. He doesn't know why he bothered to to save the desk. Just a stupid habit.

He flicks his wrist as experimentally as when he'd first learned it. The knife bounces off another desk, tearing the paper and nicking the desk. He watches it land on the floor, listens unflinchingly at the thud and scrape of the linoleum. He didn't even manage to make a deeper dent.

He runs at the desk, does a perfect spinning kick and knocks it back and over, a domino effect bringing a chair to bang against another desk with a smash that makes him bare his teeth in a grin. It should alarm him.

He brings the other one to bear in an ax kick, and it stays as straight as it should even as a new bruise blooms on his calf. He walks to the right, and another chair falls, this time banging against the door. The wood dents and cleaves, and he remembers a stupid prank and then he's picking up his knife again, to neatly unscrew a desk leg. He needs something less important than his arms to continue.

[hivemagic-moved-deactivated2019]

So the person was male, from what he could judge just by voice. Oh how nice. If only he hadn’t tripped over Komaeda going full speed. That would have actually hurt had he not been prepared for such an event. Someone so distraught wouldn’t have paid attention to their ground. The Shinigami stayed quiet a little longer before letting out a soft moan as if just waking up—and in pain at that. 

Sitting up slowly, he put a hand on his head and cracked his eyes open. "Where am I?" Obviously an act, he knew exactly where he was. The longer he could play off like he didn’t know where he was, the better. It could gain the other boy’s trust and quite possibly make it easy to shatter his feelings.

Putting a hand on his side where the mysterious visitor to the woods had tripped over him, he groaned. "Why does my side hurt?" It didn’t hurt too much, and the way he was making it seem was definitely over exaggerated. This was something he might be able to make the other guilty about. How careless not to look, he thought.   

[shsltalent]

He'd thought that if he didn't look he could avoid thinking about it, but as moments passed, his anxiety grew. Had he hurt it? Had he killed it? Was it even alive? Maybe it'd just already been dead when he collided with it. Ahaha.

There was a moaning sound (it sounded hurt, his mistake couldn't have helped...), and then movement other than his own harsh gasping. He glanced quickly over at the figure, which was wearing a coat and had shoulder length hair. He tried to stop breathing for a bit, because he was feeling lightheaded and his lungs hurt and maybe they'd hurt less if he didn't use them for a bit. It wasn't like he actually needed them or anything. Maybe he could answer the question while he's at it? He- he didn't actually know. "In a forest." he answered slowly, then held his breath once more. At least he wasn't alone. Maybe this would be okay-

He flushed again, a new wave of guilt crashing over him, and he shrank in on himself a bit as he undid the laces of his shoe. "I think that's my fault. I... tripped over you." he forced out. And he didn't have any medical supplies, and what if he'd cracked their rib, he had no idea how to fix a cracked rib, He realized that the ends of his laces were almost in the rings of his shoes. He breathed in, tried to take the shoe off without aggravating his foot. Wasn't very successful, but the shoe was off.

[kibouai-blog]

"I’m perfectly capable of washing them myself." the luckster scoffs.

"It’s just that these lowly vermin need their daily infliction of condescension. They need me to remind them of their status as mud, so I’m here to stomp on them. It’s a bit more pleasant if they submit willingly to me instead of me having to kick and spit on them, wouldn’t you agree?" Nagito explains with a disdainful scowl, twirling his pant chain around his fingers.

[shsltalent]

Oooh, so he didn't like people then. Well, some of them were kind of boring, to be honest, but if they were he didn't get why he was wasting so much effort on them when he could be learning things. He could just- yanno- not talk to them. Metaphors were frustrating. They always sidestepped the actual point. He considered this for a second, head cocked to the side.

"Sooo... What do they learn from their daily condescension? Is it to make sure they submit willingly next time? Is that what the chain thing is for? How many times have you used it? Have you ever had to replace it?" he asked. "Also, why are they lowly vermin? Are they filthy? If they're filthy why do you want them to clean your stuff? Is it cause you need them to make it dirty so you can clean it yourself?"

He knew he probably wouldn't be this amused normally, but he was and it was so he didn't worry about it. These questions had never occurred to him before, which was good any day.

[hivemagic-moved-deactivated2019]

  The woods were quiet, as usual. However the silence was something almost deafening today. It made Komaeda shift in discomfort that the woods he had become so accustom to had changed. Something inside of the woods had changed. Perhaps there was someone new that arrived. There were always great unexpected visitors. 

Hopping down from a tree he had sat in, one which branches were low to the ground to avoid any injury upon landing, the shinigami followed where he felt the disturbance from. And then he heard it clearly now, the footsteps padding against the ground as if in shock yet a slight sound of confidence confined somewhere within. 

Komaeda took a shortcut in which he’d appear somewhere in front of the new human, but he wouldn’t just appear as if he’d been in the woods this whole time. Humans usually woke up here with no idea how they got there, and that’s exactly how he’d make it seem. Before the other being made it too a clearing, Komaeda laid himself out on the ground, limited his breathing and closed his eyes to give off the image that he was passed out. Not even moments later he heard the footsteps get closer and closer, he just had to wait for them to stop—if they’d stop when they spotted him, that is. 

[shsltalent]

There was a flurry of sound and debris as Hinata approached; branches scratched a hand shielding his face as the other pumped wildly, and sticks snapped indiscriminately under his feet. He swerved, barely avoiding a tree as he made it to a brighter section-

His face was shielded from the fall, but his hands were reddened, and they stung quite a bit. He bit down a hiss. He wanted to cry in frustration, but that wouldn't come close to solving anything. He was on ground, which was slightly more forgiving than bark, but he thought he'd felt something else.

He sucked in another breath and found his gaze drawn to the thing that'd tripped him. A body. A live body? It didn't look dead. He hoped it wasn't.  "Are you okay?" he forced out, not quite managing to look at it. Maybe he could take off his shoe to massage his foot more easily.

[shsltalent]

Kamukura was not known for his enthusiasm, but he was known for never being late; the clip of his steps was its own metronome, never changing pace. He picked up the clipboard, scanned new terms already becoming mundane, and found stale advancement. They were expanding his duties to help him learn more about medication. He was to check the dosage of one Komaeda Nagito and see if anything was amiss, and to make absolutely sure that the medicine he was administering was the correct kind.

Perhaps that was due to his luck? He rechecked the instructions and problems, headed for the waiting room. Luck, huh. He'd almost thought that was a joke- humor was too variable to know for sure sometimes, but here it was again. There was a slight chance that their luck would cause something horrible to happen.

That would be interesting, at least.

[shsltalent]

When Hajime came to, he was completely calm. All he noticed was the patterns of light on the ground, on his face, the smell of dirt and leaves. He couldn't hear birds, or cars. Nothing but the sound of his heart. It wasn't usually like this. He... he couldn't remember how he got here. Had he nodded off?

He was supposed to- he still needed, he needed. His heart raced; everything came back into place, and sleepy contentment was replaced with terror. Had he failed? Why was he here? Was he dead? Had it gone wrong and he was just- stuck here! Nothing good could come from such a calm place. He slowly raised himself off the ground.

Then he bolted the direction with fewest leaves. Surely there had to be something he could use as a guide to find his way out! He couldn't just- be left here. He was still necessary! He just had to find out what'd happened and make sure it didn't happen again.

[kibouai-blog]

…My shoes need licking.

[shsltalent]

"They look clean enough to me. Are you incapable of cleaning them yourself?" He examines the shoes, but aside from having zippers, they're unremarkable. Not shiny, unlikely to be covered in anything he'd want to lick. Not even something dirty he could work on as a project. Maybe if he dunked them in saltwater a few times? "What do you want them licked by anyways." He considered dogs, snakes, and humans. Slugs wouldn't exactly lick them, but the slime couldn't be that much different.