・° — ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ

warren. 18. ergokinesis. whenever we feel each other's hearts, we become stronger.

[warrenpark]

demetria.

After what seemed to be one hell of a fucked up year, Demetria’s demeanour still remained the same…Except for the fact that she lost the humane part of her. Revenge was all in her mind at this point. The grief was long gone, but the anger and hatred still consumes her. However, she kept herself busy, especially with a greater purpose since she is still the Head Trainer for STEMA. Although the organization had caused the many demise in her life, there was no way she was going to let the Ravens get away with what they had done. Now her goal was to ensure that the remaining mutants who were willing to be allies are capable of reaching their full potential, so that they wouldn’t end up like their fallen comrades.

She was one of the lucky ones, who was able to avoid the removal of her abilities from the sabotage that the Ravens caused towards STEMA’s generators. After the battle, her colleagues and the remaining directors who had survived decided to lay low, recuperated and eventually rebuilt STEMA from the ground up. Some saw this as a new beginning, but for Demetria, she viewed this as unfinished business. Just the thought of how far she came made her blood boil. Survivor’s guilt always consumed her since the first explosion and yet here she was, still alive and ‘well’, despite feeling and thinking otherwise. Dwelling on the endless possibilities of what she could have or would have done was pointless. Her main focus was on the present and how they could prevent any further attacks from happening. One thing’s for sure, her drive to train the many mutants and mutates hasn’t changed. 

Leaning against a park bench, brown hues were fixated on the countless families and individuals roaming the park. She was on her lunch break, craving a cigarette, but as soon as she sat down she realized she didn’t have a lighter on her. As a result of that, she became lost in her thoughts instead, envying humans living in normalcy and in peace. Sensing a presence nearby, she noticed a familiar face and greeted them with a nod. “Do you have a lighter on you?” she inquired while returning her gaze at the scene of people before her.  

It's ODD, how after every wild thing that's happened, he's just there, wide eyes cast downwards, towards his legs, which are slightly parted, ANXIOUSLY bobbing up and down against the wooden planks that made up the bench he is sat on. His attention is on the crisp, clean chinos that clothed his skinny limbs, almost as if it's the first time he's seen one; to be fair, it is the first time in what feels like EONS that he's worn anything that can be considered as actual clothing. And so, if not for the violently SHOCKING, almost aggressive wave of energy that passes through his skin, he would've stayed like that for another hour or so.

Warren looks up, brown eyes ablaze, his glare a nonverbal ACCUSATION towards whatever or whoever caused his state of disgruntlement. It could've easily been Soohyun, who is the first and only mutate he's encountered in months, but he knows better; this energy's stronger ( not to say that his hyung is some weakling ), and far more FIERY than the former's. Determined, he squints then, scanning the throngs of running children and lunching families and walking couples and everything else, until his eyes land on the next bench, where a woman sat with a brooding air of NONCHALANCE. 

What used to be slits of narrowed eyes  s o f t e n , and the TIMIDITY is back in his eyes as he blinks, stare unable to be helped. Warren slightly hoped she would notice him. He slightly hoped she wouldn't. 

But eventually Demetria does, and his hands responsively begin to heat up due to the attention. He quickly lifts them up from the bench, just when light SINGE marks begin to imprint on the wood.  He swallows, pretending not to notice the DAMAGE.

There's a glint of FEAR in his eyes, and a gulp so audible she could easily squint at him in JUDGMENT if she wants to. but he stills himself and shakes his head, “n-no, but I-uh, I can—” he looks around quickly before giving his fingers a snap ( more for FLAIR than actual function ) allowing the end of his index finger to produce a small flame, the ember dancing on the tip of his skin. He covers it before the wind blows it away, and before any prying eyes somehow catch his MIRACULOUS act.

[warrenpark]

sorbello.

Somehow, this was all similar territory for her. Being back in this similar environment, home away from home, away from home. 

Clearing her throat in a calmly manner, she stepped inside the closest coffee shop near the corner and took a seat inside the chatty atmosphere. Never did she realize she would be back here, of all places, San Diego. Funny thing was, she left this place for the respective Mutant Protection program a few months ago, but suddenly shut everybody out and didn’t keep contact on her well being. 

For once, she kinda missed everybody in a weird way; after all, she hasn’ used her powers for a while, but that didn’t mean she forget how to utilize them. Looking over at one of the baristas, she politely asked for an order of hot mocha cappuccino, for here and they acknowledge her order and quickly went to the back. 

Looking around, she hoped that her presence wasn’t going to make a difference. Let’s hope no one noticed.

Warren's hands are shaking. Aside from the fact that he was pretty much a VIGILANTE about a week ago, he hasn’t had coffee in what feels like an ETERNITY, and the withdrawal is enough to contribute to the coldness under his skin. His fingers curl, wanting to scratch it away, but he is only able to SHIVER in response.

He stands right outside the quaint cafe, right hand hovering reluctantly over the door handle. Eventually, he's able to FIGHT himself, and he pushes his way into the shop. He ignores the way his stomach turned the slightest when he orders a large Americano and the barista beams at him with a smile so BRIGHT it could easily replace the sun. 

It's things like that that help him forget the wrong things he's done in the past nine months, particularly ones that nearly caused him his life. It makes him forget that, not too long before Soohyun found him, he was CHASTISED more than greeted by the very same kind of shop workers that faces him now, their grin unfazed as they hand Warren his change.

Again, that shivery coldness. He resists scratching his skin. He looks for a table instead. And lo and behold, as if some saving GRACE, he spots a certain mutate—Sorbello, he thinks her name is—and, shy as he is, he brings himself to ask, "may I... sit here?"

[warrenpark]

kyle.

He could hear the change in Warren’s voice. The lie. Maybe he couldn’t see him and see any change in his face or body language if there was any, but his hearing was impeccable. Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Uh-huh. So you decided to explore my room? What do you want? Or are you just dumb?” If the other was new here, he would still probably be figured his way around, but he doubted so. His hearing almost never failed to pick up the lies. But even if he was, he’d know that this wasn’t his room. Probably.

He’s stronger now.  Something as blunt as being called ‘DUMB’ shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, considering how, for as long as he remembers, he’s been called as such, some even way WORSE.  But he still FLINCHES, and he wants to kick himself for it.  Then and there, he wants to evaporate ( and he can actually do it, if he wills himself to ), be deemed practically nonexistent from the face of the earth with the level of embarrassment he’s allowing himself to be CROWNED with at the moment.

He’s stronger now.  Why is he still AFRAID?  “No, I... I’m lost, I-um, no one told me”---some IDIOTS didn’t lock their doors---“where I can--where I can find my room.” 

[warrenpark]

kali.

Her smile quickly faltered as soon as she spotted the face of the younger boy. Warren Park. She had read his files. She was certain she carved a rather negative impression with him. Looking at the lecture notes and immediately giving up and now purposely stepping onto her equipment – her credibility must have looked amazing. Even if embarrassment had found its home in her situation as seen through the details of her demeanor, she found pleasure in seeing a familiar face around. “I swear, I’m usually good at what I do,” she admitted as she threw up her hands in defense. “So,” she started, attempting to find a solution to make it less awkward, “have you had class outside lately?” 

Warren’s a lot of things, but someone who gives himself away is not one of them. But months of running and hiding and getting LOST, and finally, getting found, he’s at least learned that chipping of pieces of yourself, even for a reason as SELFISH as making sure you’re remembered, isn’t so bad sometimes. ( Especially if you don't want to die unknown. ) So he decides to loosen up, small smile now upturning into a quite MISCHIEVOUS smirk. “I-is it… is it bad that I don’t… believe that?” He TEASES, but what little confidence he managed to muster proves to be short-lived, smile disappearing altogether when she mentions about classes. "I...I–uh..." What is he supposed to say? That he's been living off food scraps, WASTING his days away in dingy alleys? That he was so busy trying to stay alive to even think about his dearly-beloved education? "... just got the broadcast. So, I-um, I just got back. I'm going to get myself signed up for classes here again soon."

[warrenpark]

kyle.

Kyle just rolled his eyes. Now he was just a little bit annoyed. He was just going to leave after walking in. Putting on the shirt, he shook his head “It’s fine. What did you need? No point in leaving and tracking me down later. That’s just a waste of time.”

“N-nothing,” Warren answers truthfully, almost visibly COWERING behind his splayed fingers. He blinks several times, scrutinizing the other, before deciding how deliberately RIDICULOUS he looks with his hands put up like that. “I… I was–I was just—” Investigating. Checking if anyone actually still lives here. I didn’t think people would resort to staying in this place, even after half of its residents DIED. “—exploring. Y-yeah, exploring. M'uh, m'new here.” He’s sure they’ve never met before. And with that faraway, INDIFFERENT look he regards Warren with, the latter’s sure he’ll get away with a little lie. “I-I-I guess.”

[warrenpark]

soohyun.

Standing above Warren’s limp body made him feel FEARLESS, ready to take on whoever the younger male had seemed to trigger and set off on the wrong foot. Quite huffs of breath escape Soohyun as he listens to the older man question his identity in defending Warren, but he hears none of it. Instead, his ears are ringing LOUD with the state of despair Warren is in, behind him. The older man continues to speak, loud in his voice and his gestures, hands flailing and grabbing at the air dramatically. Something about stealing comes up. Something about money. That was most of what he had gathered from the disembodied words of the breathless man, and that was all was required for him to pull out his wallet and settle Warren’s debts.

Left alone in the middle of the street, he finally has the opportunity to turn his attention back to the boy he had grown so close ; the one he had feared to have lost in the commotion of the attack. Lowering himself to a squat so he can get a better look at the exhausted boy, Soohyun can now feel his heart rattling up his chest. “Yah, Jongmin-ah,” he pleaded – he B E G G E D for Warren to recognize him. At least, look at him.

“Gwaenchanha ?” He’s gasping for air through his words, choking back a sob. ALL this while, searching for him, clinging onto the last bit of hope that he was alive… All this time, he had been alive. He sure as hell wasn’t ALLOWED to give out now. Soohyun wasn’t going to let him.  “Ya, get up, you’re not going to just lay here like this. I’m not losing you again.”

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he repeats in his head, tears now accompanied by HEARTBROKEN sobs as his body lies crumpled on the cold pavement.  Warren didn't want to resort to such a HEINOUS crime; he was just so, so hungry.  It wasn't stealing, per se—he would return the money once he gets back on his own feet ( a goal deemed IMPOSSIBLE, considering the circumstances ).  But the man didn't trust Warren.  Who would??  His shoes are tattered, eyes BLOODSHOT, and he smelled like he hasn't gotten a bath in years.

The store owner started screaming at him, backing him towards a shelf. A SLUGGER was in his hand. He called Warren a SCUM---a 'useless piece of shit', among other things. The bat was raised high in the air. He was going to kill him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Warren's eyes are closed when the stranger kneels over him. Was he a stranger? No, he never was—on the contrary, he seems to be the only other person who truly got to know the boy, or even cared to. He'd recognize Soohyun even without eyes, but how can he, now, when he's so TERRIFIED he can barely breathe?

There's ringing in his ears, but through it, he's able to pick out someone calling out to him. Yes, he's sure it's for him, because he Hears his name. "Jongmin-ah," the voice  E C H O E S , and it's enough to make Warren open his eyes.

"H...hyung?" He croaks, and suddenly, he doesn't care what he looks like or what he smells like, because he grabs onto Soohyun's shirt as if his life depends on it. He cries into the fabric, tears mixing with sweat and mucus, SHATTERED sobs broadcasting through the quietude. "Hyung."

[prkchaeyoung]

power photoshoot: kyungsoo ver.

[warrenpark]

soohyun.

The lingering chill in the night air is inadequate for the promising warmth of the city– the calm of the streets made it all the more worse. A buzzing street lamp and faint thumps from a nearby club makes the quaint neighbourhood CREEPY at this time of day. The rusting paper bag in his hand threatened to fall apart from the weight of his dinner, which SooHyun is so patiently waiting to get to. If it were at all possible, it’s getting quieter and bluer, outside. However, the sound of footsteps emerging from the dark, accompanied by a ghostly figure, turning into his own destination make him stop dead in his tracks and wait for whatever was going to happen, to pass. But that soon changes when a white-bearded man breathlessly ran after the figure. 

Holding onto his dinner the best he could, SooHyun was now ahead of the older man, chasing the assumedly younger male – an assumption based on his agility and built, respectively. “Hey, stop ! ” What he did next could have been the most careless things he could have done in any situation. Forcing out a field a few steps ahead of the suspect – just for long enough for the runner to feel a light blow at contact ( nothing TOO suspicious, hopefully ) – gave him enough time to catch up . And that’s when he saw him. Or at least part of his face… It was him. It HAD to be. Confusion EVIDENTLY crossed his features as he tried making sense of what was going on here, shifting his gaze in bewilderment, between Warren and the older man a couple of times. Among all that confusion, relief and solace, he stepped in front of  best friend, shielding him from the stranger.  This was going to put a damp on whatever plans the other guy had. 

He’s so SCARED, so scared, so scared, so scared.  Too scared to pay attention to anything else but his breathing---in, out, in, out.  There’s a tall stranger a few steps away, but he doesn’t think much about him; he could be a ghost and Warren wouldn’t bat an eye.  It doesn’t matter.  He’s scared, so scared, so scared.  He could run into the stranger if he’s being too careless, but he doesn’t look up.  It’s better than getting caught.  He keeps running.

The WILD, now almost-automatic pumping of his legs beneath him make it easier to keep time with the air escaping his lungs.  But with each contraction, he feels the only thing keeping him alive nowadays---energy---slowly leave his lanky form.  Still, legs burning in FATIGUE and lungs chafing in DRAUGHT,  he presses on.  H e doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die.

He doesn’t know if it was the moment of distraction, or if it was the BURNOUT that has long ago threatened to shut him down, but he’s knocked back, and this time, he knows it’s for good.  Between the WHEEZING that scratches at his throat and the ache that spreads through his body, he doesn’t know, but he could no longer stand.  There’s a streetlamp overhead, but his eyesight seems to dim.  He’s going to die, he’s going to die, he’s going to die.

Then there are TEARS in his eyes, but even those aren’t enough to explain why he suddenly isn’t seeing things right.  The stranger is now in front of him, seemingly shielding him from the store owner that’s mere seconds from ripping his throat out.  Warren hears the man GROWL at him, but he stays motionless on the ground.  He’s going to die.

[warrenpark]

kyle.

Kyle had just finished working out and showering when he’d been interrupted. A towel around his waist and a shirt in his hand. He was only trying to get dressed. Glancing in the direction of the person who’d so rudely walked into his room, he sighed. “Thought I made it clear that you should knock before entering. It’s a bit rude to just walk into a man’s room. You never know what you’ll walk into.”

It’s been almost a year since Warren last found himself intertwined with the ethically-questionable institution that is STEMA.  He’s a year older now, in fact, but you know he hasn’t matured the least bit when he  l e a p s  back, practically a few spaces at that, and his bony hands fly up towards his wide-as-saucers eyes.  It isn’t due to anything close to a stereotypical primetime drama teenage girl’s flustered reaction to walking in on her half-naked jock senior or anything; it’s something akin to GUILT, perhaps one that accompanies the dread you get when a stack of expensive china slips from your fingers.

It’s been almost a year, and yet, he still hasn’t developed a sense of CONVICTION for himself.  He’s still the little wimp he was from when he started.

“I... I-I-I-I’m s-sorry!  I’ll be---l-leaving now.”

[warrenpark]

- ̗̀ ⋆ — A layer of mist  f l o a t s  from the pavement, the concrete glistening despite the darkness due to the aftermath of a quite RELENTLESS rain.  In the vicinity is a club, inappropriately named The Zealot, that casts a kaleidoscope of colors on the glowing concrete.  It attracts an already-inebriated bunch of teenagers, their RAMBUNCTIOUS guffaw and mockery ringing through the quiet night.  Nevertheless, hoodie and all, the figure that scampers across the scene proves to be more CONSPICUOUS than the dramatic lighting and facade of The Zealot.  A red-faced store owner chases after him, barking an incomprehensible chain of profanities at the stranger.

Speeding past the drunken teenagers, the hooded figure ( a certain adolescent that goes by the name ‘Warren Park’ ) stumbles, taking more than a few seconds to recover from his fall.  A quiet sob bubbles in his throat; he risks a moment to turn, and sure enough, the man’s within arm’s reach, grubby hands  s t r e t c h e d  out towards him.  It barely misses his face before he takes off again, sprinting once more into the cold night, legs leading him into LABYRINTHINE neighborhood.

.@ahsoohyun​ ❜ ｡ ° : . ✧

[warrenpark]

kali.

Her promotion to head guard had its perks but also its cons. She was finally able to have power to help, to create an impact, which became a necessity after the event months ago. The effects of it still lingered, consuming the atmosphere that created a tensed sense of air, one she couldn’t find comfort in. The new position also meant that every guard came to her when they had a problem or had questions that solutions could have easily been found elsewhere. What she would have once found solace in, considering the distraction and a method of keeping her busy, she now saw it as an annoyance. Her communication system kept getting interrupted at every second with questions and requests that found trivial and an inconvenience to her responsibilities. 

“Just give me one minute,” she interrupted the current guard over her system, taking the piece out of her ear and throwing it on the ground before her foot landed directly right on top of it, dismantling all the parts of the system. She stopped her movements once she caught a presence near her. Guilty eyes glanced up before feigning an innocent smile. “Oops. My foot slipped. Gah, this keeps happening.” Half of it was true. It was going to be the fifth time she showed up at the IT department to get it replaced that month. “Darn thing just keeps falling out of my ear and landing in the wrong spot.” 

There’s an odd sense of FAMILIARITY that radiates off the walls of the new STEMA Headquarters, one that  b r u s h e s  through his hair and seeps into his skin and wafts into his nose. It’s odd because it’s a new location, but alas, it feels like going back to a place you’ve considered home for so long. He definitely didn’t ( MISS ) it, if he’ll be honest, but it’s truly good to be back. He likes it.  He doesn’t.

Warren Park turns the corner, and his stomach turns, that strange feeling of UNCERTAINTY coming over him as his eyes catch the woman stepping on the earpiece. He doesn’t not like her; in fact, he would admit it was certainly FASCINATING when, upon what can be considered their first meeting, she gave up on being their substitute teacher within five minutes of the lesson. But dread continues to flood his system. Perhaps it’s just anxiety. Perhaps. 

He doesn’t know how to respond, so he returns the half-smile, clenching and unclenching his hands, looking around the hallway AWKWARDLY.

[summers-buffy]

[oukime]

[alyoongi]

@dolcetae

[sidestepup2thestreets]

why does every social interaction with someone new feel like taking a test i didn’t study for