Kueh's Resolution Thread! (Re-Deux)

[Kueh]

Angrily, I sip from my cup, of crimson ceramic design.
I drink of my tea, and think of your plea, when I'm stealing your heart and your spine.

[Conor]

where did you get that gif of me

[Applejack]

where did you get that gif of me

conor i was trying 2 be like u and i saw that gif you gave me before

[Conor]

conor i was trying 2 be like u and i saw that gif you gave me before

pls.. come closer young rahann... wh-which gif was it...

[Kueh]

where did you get that gif of me

Rachel gave it to me along with ur noods

[Kueh]

This is how I imagine Darkist.

In this world, people come in one of a variety of flavors, with two overlying types. There are the greys, who have no spectacular qualities aside from whatever their personality might hold, and the others, who hold a variety of seemingly supernatural abilities. To better classify the others, they are usually described by a color.

Reds hold abilities that shape the physical world, and are associated with primal elements, Greens hold abilities associated with life and healing, Purples have abilities associated with sight and illusion, and so forth.

There are, however, a few rarer colors that are not usually found. These individuals tend to either hide their true nature completely, pretending to be a grey with varying degrees of success, or they exploit their powers and become very conspicuous. Golds, for example, have the ability alter the probability of a well-ordered outcome. In other words, they hold some control over luck. Every known Gold is either a celebrity or a successful businessperson.

Darkist belongs to one of these rarer bloodlines; a strain that is looked down upon and outcast with superstitious fear. These are the darks, a type associated with increased intellect, heightened awareness, and the ability to mold and create solid objects out of darkness and shadows.

Darks are accused of being born with an urge to betray and of possessing an instinct of subterfuge and deceit. Whether or not these claims are true is irrelevant to the ostracization of any Dark from society once their heritage is made known. For this reason, most darks keep their history a secret and live life as normal people. However, a few darks prefer to disregard what others think, and put their skills to use as professional assassins.

Darkist is a young boy whose parents disappeared one day, leaving him alone and abandoned. Eventually, he was taken in to an orphanage and adopted by a Blue and his Grey wife. It would seem that no one knows about his unique traits, not even Darkist himself, but the one responsible for the "disappearance" of his parents knows the truth, and Darkist is about to be thrust into an ancient and secret civil war between his people, unaware of the vital role he is to play.

[Kueh]

 Spoiler:

A crowd of young schoolchildren had formed around the new and unexpected addition to a small school of little acclaim. Her parents were unremarkable, and they performed unremarkable work that required their transfer to this relatively isolated town. In fact, there was little about her that should merit a crowd of curious spectators. She was shy and unspoken, and her frame was small and meek.

But there was one thing about her that made so many want to just catch a glimpse. Even some of the middle-school’s faculty were members of the throng that was now clogging the cafeteria. This one thing was the color of her eyes when she used her dynamism. The color of a person’s eyes when they activate their dynamism tells what type of powers they have, and she had a rare color tied to her bloodline; a genetic dynamism.

The majority of dynamisms belong to a family of relatively common color-types. For these color-types, the color-types of your parents don’t have any effect on what your color-type might end up being. However, sometimes a hereditary mutation causes a particular family to obtain a rare and unique color-type that gets passed down through their generations.

“Come on Roy!” Hannah pleaded with her knowledgeable friend, “What kind of power does she have?”

Roy adjusted his glasses and peered intently at the girl, whose long hair flowed down her back like a river.

“Hannah,” he said with slight aloofness in his tone, “Even though we know her type, a person’s individual dynamism can be different, and sometimes it can be quite unique.” Even though he didn’t have any powers of his own, the boy was fascinated by them and spent a lot of time learning about the particulars of these abilities that other people ignored.

That answer, however, seemed not to please his friend. She stomped on the ground and pouted, whining, “I don’t care, just tell me about what amethyst people can do!”

Roy seemed reluctant, and he argued back to Hannah about all the subtleties that she was ignoring, but at the same time, he opened his backpack and pulled out an encyclopedia of dynamisms and started looking up “Amethyst” in the genetic powers section.

And all the while that the entire crowd was talking about her, staring at her, and trying to imagine what kind of power hers could be like, this shy creature sat petrified on her chair. By now she had lost her appetite, and held her head down wishing she could just turn invisible. Akemii didn’t even know how anyone had found out about her power. From what she could hear from murmurs in the crowd, someone whose parents worked with her parents had found out and warned everyone that someone with a genetic dynamism was going to be transferred in.

Of course, not everyone was oogling over the newcomer. Darkist, who was usually quiet and minded his own business, was busy eating in a relatively empty part of the cafeteria, even though there were enough people to fill a few classrooms just a few tables away.

“Ah! Here. ‘Amethyst is the power of the doll’s heart. People who have the Amethyst genetic dynamism can infuse inanimate objects with energy, causing them to move about as if they were alive.’”

Scarcely had Roy finished reading just the first few sentences of the page had the whole crowd become animated with curiosity. The noise level, which had just dropped to a near silence moments ago so that everyone could hear what Roy had to say, spiked so loud that Roy could hardly hear himself finish reading.

Eventually, Hannah stepped out of the crowd, approached Akemii, and asked what was on everyone’s mind.

“Akemii,” she sweetened her voice, “Could you please please, pretty please show me your power?”

Again, the noise level dropped to a near silence as the shy, pale skinned girl fidgeted and looked around, trying to decide on an answer. Finally, she spoke softly, “Uhm...I can but,” she struggled to say, “Anything I bring to life has the same personality. I call him Balrog, and--” She would have continued, but she was interrupted by Hannah, whose personality was clearly on the opposite side of Akemii’s spectrum.

“Oh that’s so CUTE! Please, you have to show me! Can I see Balrog?” By now she was sitting next to Akemii, and was pouting with the most sincere puppy-dog eyes she could muster.

“O--okay,” was all it took from Akemii to make Hannah jump up and down clapping and giggling.

Akemii opened up her bookbag, which hung over her shoulders by a single strap, and pulled out a stuffed lion. The tired and old fabric looked like it had seen a lot, and it hung loosely together by worn threads. She placed it on the table and the crowd of onlookers watched intently.

Akemii stood with her eyes closed and her hands clasped together. Then, opening her eyes, she revealed her irises, which had now taken on a very light purple color, much different from the common indigo or violets. As she whispered the name of her companion, a sound like a single drop of water falling into a calm poop echoed from the doll, which had now been bathed in energy, so that its silhouette now seemed to ripple with a faint light that matched the color of her eyes.

“Balrog.”

And then the doll’s eyes, too, took on the amethyst glow, and the whole thing flashed in a blink of the near-pink hue. Then, much to the excitement of both Hannah and the rest of the crowd, the doll got up, dusted itself off, and then turned around, and spoke, “Did you need something?”

“N--nothing...” Akemii started, but Hannah jumped to him with a squeal.

“He’s so cute! Oh my gosh, Akemii, this is so cool!” And, following her lead, the rest of the crowd moved in to examine the now living doll. They picked him up, Ooh-ing and Aah-ing, much to shy Akemii’s dismay.

“D--don’t flop him around like that, please...Uhm, could you not toss him like that? I’d like for you to put him down, if you don’t mind.”

But then, Hannah, who felt like Roy had taken long enough, tried to grab the Balrog from his hands. The two began to fight over him.

“Wait your turn, Hannah!”

“You wait your turn! It’s my turn.”

“I barely got a chance to look at him!”

“Well too bad! It’s my turn now, you can look at him all you want when I’m done.”

Akemii knew that Balrog wouldn’t be harmed by the two pulling on the stuffed lion, but the stuffed lion itself was one of her toys, and she didn’t want them to break it, so she ran up to the two and joined in the tug of war.

“Please don’t break him!”

“Yeah Roy, let go! You’re breaking him!”

“YOU’RE breaking him! YOU let go!”

“Please don’t fight! And please let go!”

“All three of you creeps are breaking me! Now put me down!”

Hannah pulled sharply, breaking it from both other grips, and ran off to the other side of the cafeteria. Roy caught up to her, and the two resumed pulling on his frail, fabric limbs, except this time, the brittle threads gave way and the doll ripped in half. Cotton fluff balls were strewn all about, and the lion’s upper body flew through the air and landed on Darkist’s head, who had been getting increasingly annoyed.

No one in the room moved, all were startled by how quickly the situation had changed. No one, except Akemii, who ran up to Hannah with tears streaming from her eyes, and yanked the lower body of her stuffed doll out of Hannah’s now slack grip.

Everyone just watched as Akemii sat near the majority of the cotton and sobbed until Darkist stood up. He turned and walked right up to the crying Akemii, who turned her gaze away, feeling bitter over the loss of one of her oldests playthings.

But she turned her head when she heard Darkist’s voice saying, “Here.” He held the ripped upper half of the lion, which was now quite flat. She timidly accepted it, and he moved in front of her and started collecting fragments of cotton. “Let me help you,” he said.

At that moment, the bell rang, signalling the end of the lunch period. Everyone praised the bell under their breath, thankful to have an excuse to get away from the scene. Hannah made her way to her classroom, but didn’t notice Darkist, who had the same class as her. She looked over her shoulder and saw him ignoring the bell to gather fluff for Akemii who sat on a bench and let him pile the cotton into her arms.

[Kueh]

 Spoiler:

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Darkist stood at the front of the classroom, having arrived late due to the antics of lunch. He didn’t care, but his teacher was making a big deal out of it. He opened his mouth to speak, but a familiar, impassioned voice rang out.

“That’s not fair! He stayed to help clean up a mess! Hannah and Roy got into a fight!”

“Kevin,” the teacher responded in a stern, yet instructional tone, “You know that’s no excuse to be late to class.”

With tears welling in his eyes, dangerously perched upon his eyelids and ready to leap from their precarious throne, Kevin slammed his fists onto his desk, shouting, “You can’t do this to him!”

He was ready to go on and on, but the teacher stopped him, “Fine, fine. Gosh, you get so worked up over the smallest things sometimes.”

Kevin’s power wasn’t one of the rare genetically inherited ones, but it was quite unique all the same. His dynamism formed a rift in his mind, creating two distinct personalities. The dominant ego was cool and collected, and made it his business to stay hip and popular, while the less active ego, the one who stood up for Darkist, was very sensitive and effeminate. Though he didn’t have much control over it, his dynamism did have an active form. However, since his split personality was the direct result of his dynamism, his eyes were unendingly stained with an indigo tint that glowed ever so faintly.

Darkist took his seat next to his friend, whispering as the teacher continued his lesson, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I know man. But we’re bros, you know?” The tone of Kevin’s reply made it clear that his normal ego was the one speaking. Darkist couldn’t help but laugh, and the rest of the day passed without much incident. When the bell that signalled the end of the day resounded the school, liberating the children, Darkist made his way to the front of the school where his younger brother was waiting, just as he did every day.

Greeting his brother with a hug, Darkist said, “Hello older brother, did anything exciting happen today?”

Even though Tatsu was a year younger than Darkist, he insisted on being called older brother when Darkist was first adopted. He was eight years old at the time, and Darkist was nine. The youngest of three was excited when he heard that his parents were adopting a new sibling, and had decided before realizing the situation that he would finally get to be the older brother to someone.

When nine-year-old Darkist first came home, being both taller and more masculinely built, not to mention older, Tatsu was livid. The first words that Tatsu ever said to him were, “Hey you! I won’t accept you as a part of this family! Never! Not unless you agree to call me ‘Older Brother’ and agree to be younger than me!”

Their parents were quite shocked at this outburst from the one of their children most excited for the new addition to the family, and they were at a loss as to how to respond. However, Darkist shocked everyone in the room (especially Tatsu) with his response:

“Okay. Older Brother, I agree to be youngest.”

From then on, Tatsu was Darkist’s older, younger brother, and they walked home together from middle school every day.

“Are you kidding?!” Tatsu exclaimed in response to Darkist’s original question, “Did anything exciting happen to me?! You ask me that after what you did in the cafeteria today?”

“Oh, you heard about that?”

“Oh gosh, Darkist, the whole school knows about it! They think you have a crush on that new girl! You don’t, do you? You had better not!”

Darkist shook his head, laughing, “No, I don’t have a crush on her. You know me better than that.”

“Oh gosh, I worry about you sometimes, younger brother. Not having a crush on such a pretty girl.”

“But, weren’t you just getting mad that I might have a crush on her? What’s with this all of a sudden? You don’t have a crush on her yourself, do you?”

“What?! Of course I don’t!” Tatsu practically shouted.

“Oh man, you totally do. That’s so cute.”

“Shut up! You can’t call me things like that! I’m the oldest!”

The two of them argued for the walk to a nearby school where their other brother was about to be dismissed from. Zid, the true oldest, was accepted into a school designated for training its pupils to use their dynamisms, in addition to the standard curriculum. Such schools were common around the country, and, because this town only had one such facility, admission was strictly through scholarship. Students had to excell at the control of their dynamism to be accepted. And even though this school had a modest home, it had achieved national acclaim through the quality of students that it groomed.

Zid took after his father and was a blue-type dynamist. Blue-types are users whose powers deal with empowering their own bodies. Some blue users might be able to sprint for hours on end without ever running out of breath, or be able to increase their speed or reflexes. Zid’s power was similar to their fathers; both increasing their strength and speed, while coating their bodies with a sheet of energy that could withstand physical trauma.

Their sister, Julia, went to the general high school, which was on an opposite side of town, so they hardly met up with her to walk home. After the trio made their rendezvous, they trekked home.

The day was rather uneventful from then on. At dinner, each talked about their day. The fiasco in the cafeteria was by far the most interesting recounting, and most of the talk was spent on it. Then it was homework, and then bedtime.

Darkist usually finished his homework quickly, and then spent the rest of his free time reading books, but today he felt rather sluggish. When he was only nearly finished, he decided to sleep early. He felt like he was having a fever. His mind was hazy, and he fell into a fitful, restless sleep.

His dream was just as haggard. He was alone, a feeling that he thought he would never have to feel again, stranded in an endless black sea. He tried to run, but he was weighed down by a dark, thick oil that coated his legs and arms. The slime began to creep up his body, starting at his legs, going up his thighs, then his torso, and all the while he was struggling to remove the viscous fluid.

When the fluid finally reached his face and covered it, threatening to suffocate him, he suddenly found himself in another location altogether. The oily sea that he was wading in was replaced by a polished obsidian floor, and the walls and windows and ceiling were all an ebony black. Yet despite this, he was able to see, as a sinister sun shone dark, tainted light. Black rays, indistinguishable from the darkness allowed him to see.

And on the polished floor beneath him, he saw himself as a monster clad in a fearsome, jet black armor. Instead of hands, he had great hook claws, which detached from his wrists as he stumbled about in shock, revealing that they were connected to his forearms by chains of dark.

The door to the grand hall in which he found himself opened, and he turned to see many of his family and friends. They were looking for him. They were concerned for him. Overjoyed, he rose to his clawed feet and tried to call out to them, “I’m here!”

But instead, a mangled growl came from his twisted maw. When he tried to shout, “Please, help me! I’m Darkist! Help!” the beast who embodied him gave a ferocious series of barks and growls and roars, which were partly gargled as he choked on the same oil from before.

“There he is!” They shouted.

They recognized him, he thought. He was so relieved. He got up to race to them and embrace them each, but he noticed something wrong about them. They were far too angry.

“There’s the monster that stole Darkist!”

They didn’t recognize him. Instead, they charged at him and activated their dynamisms. His feral body, in an instinct to protect itself, raised its arms against the people that Darkist loved. His sharp clawed hands tore through his sister’s body with ease, and they were easily harpooned like a gun to catch Tatsu off guard from afar. Pulling him back was just a matter of retracting the chain, and he was easily ripped apart.

In the end, Darkist had mutilated and maimed each of his loved ones quite fatally, and dark, oily tears poured from his eyes as he was powerless to stop it. When he awoke, it was with a start, and he was covered in a cold sweat, and quite out of breath. He got up to go to the bathroom to wash his face, but was quite startled when he saw his reflection in the mirror and saw something that he had never seen in himself before.

His normally brown eyes were glowing with the gentle hue of a dynamism, and they were a dark, oily black.

[Kueh]

 Spoiler:

“What’s up with you today?” Roy asked, “I mean, you’re usually serious, but now you look like you died and came back to life.”

“Please,” was all Darkist said.

“All right, all right, I’ll answer your questions, and I’ll keep them secret. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, though.”

Darkist looked around, making sure no one was in earshot. The cafeteria was crowded, but it was for that exact reason that he could be sure no one was eavesdropping. The noise level of the middle school lunch period prohibited it.

“I want to know about a kind of dynamism that makes the person’s eyes turn black.”

There was a long pause as Roy stared at Darkist. Roy’s usually casual demeanor had become quite intense at the mention of such a phenomenon.

“Before I say anything, where did you hear about this?” Roy finally spoke. “Did you see someone using it? I have to know if there’s someone like that in this town.”

“Please,” was all Darkist said.

Roy paused again for a long time, before heaving a great sigh and reluctantly giving in. “All right. The black color-type is a genetic dynamism. People who have it are said to be naturally untrustworthy, because they feel urges to betray and deceive. They also have an increased intellect, used for making plots, and have the ability to gather shadows up, giving them a solid form.”

Before Darkist could ask anything else, the bell rang, and Roy got up and headed to his next class without any parting words.

Upon making it to class, Darkist took his chair in the far corner of the room where no one would sit next to him, however, he would not get his way today.

“I’d like everyone to welcome our newest student, Akemii,” the teacher said. And since the only open seat was the one next to Darkist, she was quickly directed there.

The shy girl would periodically look to Darkist and open her mouth to say something, then decide against it, and slump in her chair. Darkist was oblivious, however. He was focusing intently on his body. Trying to feel some kind of energy or maybe sense a trigger that would activate his dynamism, so that he would have some kind of warning.

He wasn’t exactly sure what it would feel like, or if he even really had a dynamism. After all, it could all have very well been just a dream. But the prospect of seeing himself changing into a monster and going on a rampage terrified him, and he remained in a state of intense focus; hardly breathing, as if a sudden jolt could make him explode.

Focusing like this, time passed quickly for him, and, as the bell rang, Akemii finally worked up the nerve to say what she had been trying to the whole time.

“Hi,” she spoke plainly, softly, and quietly.

Getting up, Darkist looked at her and said “Hi” back, but before much more could be said, the school’s intercom activated. However, it was producing a noise quite incomprehensible. It sounded like a metal fence or an old chain swing set repeatedly rocking to and fro. There was also a kind of white noise; a sound similar to static that seemed to be made of a hundred people whispering all at the same time. And throughout it all, there was the melody of a woman humming, as if lulling her babe to sleep.

Kevin was the first to react. Being the color-type for illusions, indigo, he recognized the ruse quite quickly.

“Everyone! Cover your ears!” he shouted. But he was much too late. Looking around the room, he found most of his friends were already asleep, and those who weren’t were already showing signs of being affected. Even his teacher, much to Kevin’s disappointment, had collapsed to the floor, his marker dragging a trail as he left what he had been writing unfinished.

Despite what he knew the now unconscious teacher would have advised, to stay put and hide, Kevin ran out the door to meet up with anyone else who might still be awake. They could try to stop the person at the intercom, or try to counteract it with their own powers.

In whichever case, Kevin found himself in the cafeteria quite suddenly, and saw only two other students.

“Kevin, I’m glad your here,” Hannah said upon noticing he had arrived. Being an indigo type herself, she found she was able to resist the effect as the other had. This type of mass-illusion had its strength in its subtlety. However, once a subject knew he was under the effect of an illusion, it would become quite easy for him to resist the effects.

“And who is this behind you?” she continued. “You don’t have illusion abilities. How are you awake?”

Kevin turned to see Akemii stepping into the room. She explained as she entered, “Uhm...I have insomnia, so I don’t fall asleep very easily. Once I saw Kevin reacting to the lullaby, it was nearly impossible for me to fall asleep then.”

Kevin quickly took the leadership role of students and decided that the best course of action was to go to the front desk where the sound was being transmitted from. Their team was only four strong, but they had faith in Kevin, and they were each very brave.

Surprisingly, though, only three of them were indigo types. Akemii was, as you know, an amethyst type. The other, a red type named Brian, was awake strictly as a function of his near boundless energy. Brian, in fact, had to wear capacitors at all times to absorb the electric energy that his body sometimes discharged. As someone who operated on very little sleep, the illusion had actually worked on him; however, after only three minutes, the effect wore off, and he was charged up and ready to fight whoever decided to mess with him.

As the group made their way to the door, Kevin explained the plan:

“Akemii, you use your animation ability, and have the golem charge in. Hannah and I will try to daze anyone in the room, and then Brian, you jump in, rush to the intercom, and fry it.”

Hannah and Akemii nodded in understanding, while Brian took off the bracelets that held his capacitors. He grinned excitedly as sparks began to leap between his fingers and he whispered, “Niiiice.”

But first, Akemii had to summon Balrog. She closed her eyes and projected her energy outward, charging the tiles of the floor, the walls, and even the dry panes of the ceiling. She was going to summon him using the school itself as the medium. The distinct sound rang out, and chunks of the walls, ceiling, and floor all jumped out and coalesced into a chimera of plaster and concrete.

Without any more instruction than, “Go!” from his summoner, Kevin opened the door, and Balrog charged in. When Kevin and Hannah followed, ready to daze any hostile figures, they were very surprised to find just one person. The school faculty were lying unconscious, likely asleep, and one person dressed all in black stood near the microphone, singing her hypnagogic melody.

Before Kevin could reassess the situation, Brian leaped in, and made a dash to the microphone. The resulting blast of electricity overloaded every electronic in the room, and shocked the assailant to the ground.

[Kueh]

 Spoiler:

“Well, that went better than expected,” Kevin remarked. Though, something disturbed him. He felt like things had wrapped up too easily.

And they did.

At that moment, three other similarly dressed adults called to the downed fourth from the doorway, “What are you doing? They’ll wake up in a few minutes now that you’ve stopped.”

One of them, who stood behind the other two, spoke, “It’s unimportant to continue. We have him.”

The surprised Kevin turned and saw that the one in the back was carrying an unconscious Darkist over his shoulder. Just as he had turned around, the hypnotist rose to her feet and struck Brian at the base of the neck. As he slumped unconsciously to the ground, she whispered, “Go to sleep this time.”

As Kevin tried to hinder her escape, the foremost, and largest of the three newcomers revealed a very large, very dark blade. His face was covered by a black metal helmet, and he wore similar gauntlets and boots which ended his digits in sharp claws. The portions of his armor that were visible seemed eerily to hug tight to his flesh and mimic his muscles. His torso was covered in a dark coat of a strange fur that seemed to writhe as if it were alive

“I wouldn’t do anything rash, if I were you,” he spoke, “That is, if you want your other friends to remain unharmed” he remarked in his deep voice, pointing his blade straight at Akemii, who was too petrified to move. Hannah held her close, as if to shield her from his malicious gaze.

At that moment, letting the hypnotist walk out of the room, letting four mysterious assailants kidnap his friend, Kevin felt so helpless. If he had stayed in the classroom, he might have been there to help, might have seen them.

The four, plus Darkist, were walking through the front atrium, ready to leave the building before anyone else woke up, when they heard a sound like thunder cracking. At first, they thought it was Brian, ready to be knocked unconscious again. Instead, they saw Kevin walking out of the office, however, he was in a much different form than before.

The colors around him seemed to be faded, as if the intense power now emanating from his body contorted and exhausted the light around him the way a picture loses its color from being in the sun. The ground on which he walked was humming because it chose to expend its energy through vibrating, and the loose pebbles from where Akemii had summoned Balrog now rattled and jumped.

From around his fists and ankles, a smoky mist poured, which then snaked around his whole body. Touching it was to absorb the immense kinetic energy being contained within, which could cause glass to shatter on impact, or tough steel beams to buckle and bend. His eyes, which were usually only tinged with a faint indigo glow were now positively alight. Iris and sclera were now hardly distinguishable, and the whole eye was a near unanimous hue. Chockeh and Kevin had fused; he had used his dynamism.

The leader of the enemies raised his sword at the image of Kevin, but he was too slow to realize that it was merely the residual kinetic mist, and that Kevin had already dashed to his side for an attack.

He moved so fast, in fact, that he was nearly undetectable, seeming to disappear and reappear at his desired location. The captain was knocked out of the way by one of his subordinates; one who also had indigo eyes.

“That was close,” the subordinate said. “Watch out for when he moves,” here, he would have continued, “The image he leaves behind is fake,” but the transformed Kevin was not going to let up on his attack while one of his best friends was in danger.

He switched targets, going instead for the one who was able to react to this high speed. Though he might have had the capacity to see the incoming attacks and dodge, he wouldn’t be able to block a direct hit. Pushing his strength against his enemy’s weakness, he released an unrelenting flurry of blows, each one impregnated with a mist of kinetic energy.

However, so focused on unleashing his attack was he, that Kevin had scarcely noticed the second subordinate, who had dropped Darkist on the ground and moved in front of his comrade to absorb the kinetic shock. This second subordinate was a blue color-type capable of storing the energy of direct attacks against him, gathering it only to send it back to its source as a fierce counterattack.

When he tried to do just that, the second subordinate made the mistake of not taking into account Kevin’s vastly decreased reaction time, and the only recipient of his attack was just the left-over kinetic mist. It reacted with the blow in a manner most volatile, resulting in a small explosion that knocked the two goons back.

In an attempt to make use of catching his enemies off guard, the transformed Chokevin dashed in for a swift counter-counterattack, but the first thug reacted accordingly and pulled his accomplice over himself, shouting, “Shield!”

After Chokevin’s kick had connected to his back, the first thug let go, commanding, “Attack!” Spinning around, the second thug thrashed his fist in a blind swing, which almost connected, but it was dodged just in time.

It didn’t take long for a distinct rhythm of counterattacking to be established. The first thug was able to perceive Kevin’s attacks, and directed his comrade on how to deflect them, sometimes physically pulling his body into the path.

“They remind me of myself,” Kevin thought to himself as he noticed the way the two fought as one. “However, just like me, they’re weakest when they’re separated.”

Kevin, knowing the pair’s inherent weakness, sought to cleave them from each other’s aid, to finish them off one at a time. He changed his stance to be more erratic and harder to read, and assumed a torrent of small, direct attacks. He moved so quickly here, that it was almost as if he was striking three or four times simultaneously. These attacks, however, were a distraction, and though a substantial portion of them were absorbed, it hardly mattered because of the lightness of each hit.

Once a thick kinetic haze had enveloped the pair, Kevin appeared in the air above them, and dropped down between them, detonating the haze, causing a huge kinetic wave to knock each one far from the other. The sound of the boom alone was enough to rattle the structure of the school, and to knock the wind out of both the goons.

Having long since discovered the individual weaknesses of the two, (indirect attacks for the first, precise attacks for the second), they were child’s play to dispatch as individuals, and Kevin maneuvered so quickly that he seemed to split into two individuals and dispatch them simultaneously.