Do you think any of the guns stim? I kinda think ninety would
I think Ninety would stim, yes. Probably of the "chewing on things, food or otherwise" variety. Also perhaps the "rocking back and forth", or "hand flapping when excited or stressed" types.
Belga seems like another one who would, but his would be more destructive. Perhaps the "hitting his head against a wall" kind.
Mikhael's music fixation probably counts— either playing the piano or being able to hear a recording of someone else doing it. That's definitely a calming sensory experience for him.
Hokusai also seems like the "hand flapping when excited" type, as well as more physically harmful stims. Also possibly the type to enjoy having something in his mouth so long as it's a pleasant color.
Being from a succubus-incubus family, Tsumu has many siblings, some of whom are mixed with other species. However, the only ones she has a semblance of a relationship with are Fren (Francis) and En (Engel), due to the pair living in a neighboring kingdom. Even then, they aren't particularly close, and she only really contacts Fren, the elder of the brothers, when she needs something.
This backfired on her, though, because when she heard about the upcoming rebellion in her kingdom, she sent word to Fren asking for help, but bro ignored her and watched the chaos unfold from a distance. She still holds this against him when she meets his "reincarnated" counterpart, "Francis," in the new world (who turns out to just be Fren, with all of his memories of his previous life and powers intact, but he doesn't actually tell her this until later).
She has a grudge against Paix (Peace) and Rhea (Dahlia/Zoe) for being the most notable figures in the rebellion against her. This carries over into the new world, as their "reincarnated" counterparts attend the same school as her, but have no memories of their past life beef. Since she can't exact revenge on them in her current state, she's just kind of mean to them, and "Peace," at least, thinks she's weird. Meanwhile, "Zoe," being immune to her bitchiness, thinks she's interesting and is trying her best to get into her good graces to learn about the "previous life quarrel" she keeps talking about, to no avail.
While Tsumu wants to go home and reclaim her throne eventually, she adjusted to her new life pretty quickly (Except for the way she talks... that took time). She loves shopping (with "Mikael's" money), sweets (Bought with "Mikael's" money), and lazily playing video games and watching TV while "Mikael" takes care of all the household duties (Yes, that specifically). She relishes being useless since being King for as long as she was was a pain in the ass (and even then, her underlings did most of the heavy-lifting ... ). Fortunately, her laziness only mildly annoys "Mikael".
On the other hand, one thing she didn't get used to was not sitting on more wealth than she would reasonably need, and she quickly grew tired of "Mikael" nagging her about her spending habits.
No BS or dancing around it like in the main story, Mikhael and Tsumu are actually together in this AU, and their relationship carries over after they "reincarnate," with some caveats due to "Tsumugi" physically being a normal human while "Mikael" is still in his original form. Very hard to spontaneously go on a date when your man has fast-growing claws, pointy ears, and very questionable "tattoos" on his body.
Tsumu had a reputation similar to that of a black widow before meeting Mikhael, as she believed that those who wanted to marry her were only interested in her crown, and personally executed her partners after she determined (or assumed) their true intentions. After they met, she ran some undisclosed "tests" to determine Mikhael's loyalty. Upon discovering that Mikhael was genuinely not interested in becoming the king of her kingdom and preferred his original role as a religious leader, Tsumu chose him as her permanent partner. Though they've been together for a few hundred years now, they aren't married, but the markings on Mikhael's body bind them for life, no matter the life.
King Tsumu is older than Mikhael by a few millennia, which she liked to hold over his head. No longer the case after they "reincarnate."
While "Mikael" is more aware of it than "Tsumugi", Tsumu and "Tsumugi" are still one and the same. Rather than actually being a normal human, Tsumu's power is hibernating in "Tsumugi's" body, waiting for a trigger to reawaken it. However, because her priorities are crossed due to getting used to her new life, she has gotten used to powerlessness and hasn't uncovered the trigger, or even that there is a trigger to get her powers back, for the time being.
CW: physical violence, torture, blood, gore?, intense emotional distress, Andrey being a weird fuck.
When Damian awoke, his body screamed in agony. Every muscle, every fiber of his being, was on fire. His head throbbed as if it had been split open, and his arm... oh God his arm. The wound was far from being his only source of pain now, but it burned with a white-hot intensity that blurred his vision.
He could taste blood, his own, mixed with the stale air of the room—a foul blend of sweat, fear, and something more acrid, like the smell of burning flesh. His throat was dry, and his mouth felt like sandpaper, but even if he could speak, what would he say? There was nothing left to plead for. Nothing left to lose.
The smell hit him next—stale sweat, urine, and something metallic, like rust or blood, hung thick in the air. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as he tried to push the nausea away.
Then the realization dawned on him. He wasn’t in that grim room anymore. He was outside, and a crowd was gathering. He looked down at his loosely bandaged arm as the murmurs and whispers of hushed and expectant people filled the air around him. "What the fuck...."
The sunlight seared Damian's eyes, and he winced, turning his head away. Andrey stepped into view, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he surveyed Damian’s prone form. The sight of him sent a wave of dread crashing through Damian, the memory of their last encounter still fresh in his mind.
“I see you’re awake,” Andrey said, his voice dripping with condescension. He gestured, and a guard stepped forward, a long, leather whip coiled in his hand. Damian’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized what was about to happen. His mouth went dry, terror clawing its way up his throat.
“No..” Damian croaked, his voice weak.
Andrey ignored him, turning to address the gathered crowd instead. “This,” he began, his voice carrying easily over the assembled throng, “is what happens to those who betray my trust.”
Damian’s heart pounded against his ribs, the sound deafening in his ears. He thought he would be ready.
He should've been ready.
Mikhael -the motherfucker- uncoiled the whip with a sickening snap, and Damian’s entire body tensed in anticipation of the first blow. He could feel the rough texture of the post against his back, the cold bite of the shackles around his wrists, the coarse fabric of his shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked skin.
The first crack of the whip sliced through the air. It connected with his back with a force that drove the breath from his lungs, the pain exploding through him like fire. A ringing sound filled his skull, gasping.
A strangled cry tore itself from his throat before he could stop it, the sound of his own voice raw and desperate. The whip came down again, and again, each strike sending a shockwave of pain through his body that left him gasping for air. The lash came across his injured arm. He let out a guttural scream. He forced himself to look at the arm.
Blood.
Oh lord, there was so much blood.
The world around him seemed to fade in and out, the sounds of the crowd, of Andrey’s voice, of the whip cracking against his flesh, all blending into a dizzying, nightmarish cacophony. Jesus.. how the hell did Noah manage this..?
The smell of blood was thick in the air now, mingling with the scent of sweat and dirt, filling his nostrils, his lungs, choking him. The only thing he could hear now was the continuous slap of the whip.
His breath came in ragged gasps, something as easy as breathing now seeming like a great task. His body trembled uncontrollably, the searing pain in his back making it impossible to think, to feel anything but the agony that consumed him.
And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The whip fell silent, the tension in the air palpable as the crowd held its collective breath. Damian’s body slumped against the post, every inch of him screaming in pain, his back a mass of raw, torn flesh that throbbed with every heartbeat.
Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the dirt and blood, but he didn’t care. There was no shame anymore, no pride. There was only the pain and the desperate hope that it would end soon.
But it didn’t. The lashes kept coming, each one worse than the last, the whip cutting deeper and deeper until it felt like his very soul was being flayed from his body.
His body sagged against the post, held up only by the iron rings that bit into his wrists. His vision blurred, the world around him fading in and out of focus. He could taste blood, thick and metallic on his tongue, and the coppery scent filled his nostrils, making him gag.
Mikhael finally stopped, the silence that followed almost more deafening than the sound of the whip. Damian’s body trembled, the muscles twitching uncontrollably, spasming in protest. His skin was on fire, the agony so intense that it felt like his nerves had been set ablaze.
He barely registered the hands that unbound him, the rough shove that sent him sprawling onto the blood-soaked ground. His body hit the earth with a dull thud, pain exploding in his back as the wounds made contact with the dirt.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking breathe. The world around him was a blur of colors and sounds, distant and unreachable. His mind was fraying at the edges, the darkness creeping in, and this time, he didn’t fight it.
He was dimly aware of Andrey stepping closer, the man’s presence a dark shadow that loomed over him, suffocating him.
Damian couldn’t respond, couldn’t even lift his head to look at Andrey. All he could do was gasp for breath, the taste of blood heavy on his tongue, the throbbing agony in his back making every movement torture.
“I could have killed you." Andrey paused for a moment, before continuing. But that would have been too easy. No, I want you to live with this, Damian. I want you to remember this pain, this humiliation, every single day for the rest of your life.”
The words were a cruel mockery, twisting the knife that had already been driven so deep into Damian’s soul. He felt the tears begin to fall then, hot and bitter, mingling with the sweat and blood that stained his skin.
Andrey leaned in closer, his breath hot against Damian’s ear. “And know this, Damian… as long as you breathe, Noah will never be free. He will suffer because of you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
The horror of those words, the realization of what his defiance had cost, was too much. The last thing he felt was the cold, unyielding ground beneath him as his body crumpled, the sound of Andrey’s chuckle echoing in his mind like a terrible lullaby.
---
When awoke once again, he was laying on a hard cot in a small, dimly lit cell. His back was bandaged, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to his wounds, but there was no relief from the torment that gripped his soul.
He could still hear Andrey’s voice, those final, damning words that had sealed Noah’s fate. Damian’s heart ached with a grief so profound it threatened to swallow him whole. He had failed. God, why did he always have to fail?! Before Noah it was-
Tears slid down Damian’s face, silent and unbidden, as the full weight of his failure and distant memories pressed down on him. The cell was cold, the air thick with the scent of mildew and despair, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was the pain, the guilt, the overwhelming certainty that he had lost everything.
Andrey had won. Damian had nothing left. Nothing but the knowledge that he had only succeeded in condemning Noah to a fate worse than death.
The tears came harder now, shaking his frail body as the sobs wracked his chest. There was no hope, no light at the end of this dark tunnel. Only pain, and the cold, empty void of despair that stretched out before him, endless and unforgiving.
Wanna try rehashing my thoughts on Goldrush (Kel x Mikhael) again, since I feel like I didn't do a great job the first time. It's gonna be mostly headcanon stuff, since there isn't that much about Mikhael in game, so I hope that's okay, hehe!
Before we get into things, I wanna say why I like this ship, since it kinda leads into my thoughts on the two. My favorite ships in Omori so far are this one, Sunflower (Sunny x Basil), and whatever the name for Kim and Aubrey's ship is, because, in my mind, all three can have vibes of healing through each other/healing together. I could go on a entirely separate tangent about this, but I don't want this post to get too cluttered, heh. (text wall under the cut)
So, my thoughts on Kel and Mikhael and why I think their ship is neat. In my mind, they have equal but opposite family issues. Kel's is easier to describe, I think he would suffer from being a middle sibling. He's not the "successful" older brother going off to college. He's not the brand new little sister. (Though I feel like even before Sally was born, Kel probably wasn't the focus of attention.) I'm not trying to say I think Kel's parents are outright neglectful, I just think he'd find himself/his achievements put off to the side when compared to his siblings.
On the other hand, where I think Kel wouldn't get much attention from family, one of the things we know about Mikhael is that he does. His parents hope he'll stick with tradition and stay with the family bakery. His sibligns too, who also seem to enjoy pestering him (though I doubt this is malicious). And so in turn, Mikhael has sworn off the bakery and familial expectations, he tries to be his unique and cool and special to stand out as his own person. The Maverick.
But The Maverick is just a facade. A front. And this is where I like the idea of their shipping dynamic! Because it's clear Mikhael is jealous of Kel. He's cool, athletic, sociable and friendly. Mikhael has probably put Kel on a pedestal of what he wishes he was, and that's why he claims they're rivals. So, for their ship dynamic, I really like the idea of them being able to fill the other's need. Mikhael could provide the attention and hype that Kel isn't getting. And Kel could be the one to see Mikhael for who he really is as a person, and support him accordingly. It doesn't necessarily need to be a romantic ship, but that's what I deal in so shhh. I really do like the idea of the two boys growing closer over time. Like, the thought of Mikhael getting to a point where he feels comfortable without needing the wig or persona around Kel specifically, progressing to him eventually being comfortable being himself around others because of Kel's support and encouragement? And in return, Kel has a goofy, clingy, sorta obnoxious (endearingly), secretly nerdy person to spend time around, an in to a new friend group (and maybe some reconciliation with Aubrey, because the real world segments of the game felt rushed >:/) because I'm worried about just how lonely Kel must've been during the years Sunny was gone/his old friend group fell apart.
Also, only sorta related to their dynamic but: short Mikhael (at the very least shorter than Kel). I really adore the idea of Mikhael having to practically climb his dumb, beanpole of a boyfriend just to give him a kiss, where Kel could just lean down a little to kiss him on the top of his head. Mikhael would be absolutely infuriated by this. You understand my vision, yes?
