chemicalofkindness-blog

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

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#pssst #is anyone here into one x one doubling #because i sure would love to have a long term one x one doubling rp #ooc

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

psa: school is kicking my ass, but the blog is not abandoned

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

Kiara nervously twiddled her fingers, before her arms limped and fell against her side. “Today...someone told me I should...s-should...quit my research...”

She’d looked up to this a man, a physician-scientist as prodigious as he was kind. And so it made sense that she braced herself for his answer, as a single word from him could impart a profound effect on the struggling student.

With somewhat bleary eyes, she confided, “T-They told me... That by researching the biological correlates of kindness...t-that I was reducing humanity to a science project, a-and that science c-can’t possibly explain it... B-But I...” A sniffle. “Worked so h-hard to g-get here... I d-don’t think it’s disrespectful. I think it’s...i-it’s...

“Y-You think i-it’s beautiful too, r-right?!”

I need healing!

@chemicalofkindness

Markus rushed over to the civilian, his staff tight in his grip. “Support has arrived! How can I help you?”

#engclsgleich #ic

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

Science & Faith

Kiara was once Catholic, but abandoned the faith and currently self-identifies as “agnostic, I guess.” Her view of science as the absolute lens for truth conflicts with her natural predilection towards the spiritual aspects of culture. The result is a girl who fails to realize the possibility of harmoniously integrating both science and faith in her lifestyle, an ignorance that creates a undercurrent of repressed dissatisfaction in her overall perception of life.

#headcanon

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

@hcrmcny;; “--speaking on the advancement of omnic rights and the question of whether omnics possess a soul. Please welcome...”

Kiara wheezed, sweat creeping against the surface of her skin as her muscles pulsated with excessive fermentation. Finally, she had made it to the panel, after she’d misaligned her location in spatial reality with the representation of the map. A childhood spent playing video games didn’t much benefit her in that regard, apparently.

She slid against the wall, exhaustion dissuading her from joining the other patrons on the quickly-filling seats of the outdoor auditorium. She’d passed out from heat stroke and overexertion before, and she’d felt that any further step would exponentiate her risk of waking up in an emergency room, again. The names of the guests introduced on stage--a variety of religious leaders ranging from priests to imams to tribal shamans--was distorted in her ears, a combination of the thunderous applause of the crowd and the sound of herself coughing up sputum. 

Her vision grew hazy, humans and omnics blending into amorphous masses before separating back into discernible figures. The improvement indicated, however, that she was not about to faint, and least from her vantage point, she’d noticed no one who seemed too concerned with another random onlooker in the corner.

Even in her state of physiological distress, she’d noticed a sort of elegy stir up from within her soul, seeing the spiritual leaders mingle and wave to the audience, alongside a harried omnic (who she’d sense must have been a starstruck undergrad, considering their mannerisms), awkwardly attempting to calm the crowd. She wondered--why? 

She’d abandoned religion long ago. She’d abandoned her first dream long ago. And yet there was bittersweet bliss in finally seeing these figures specifically unite for the advancement of omnic rights.

“It is our unequivocal belief that all omnics possess a soul.”

Kiara sighed, but managed a defeated smile. Even if this was related to a dream long gone...maybe it’d still be worth watching it come true.

#hcrmcny #ic #SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG #hopefully you'll be able to work with this intro??? #let me know if you need clarification!!

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

Kiara stared wide-eyed at the angelic figure before her, frozen as her agnostic brain prioritized calculating that no, he did not descend upon the heavens to bestow her a message from the Creator(s).

“Oh! Um, I…” The budding scientist, cursing her slow analytical abilities, cast her gaze downwards in embarrassment before barely managing the strength to admit the sort the support she sought. “I actually j-just…wanted…a…hug…” Her voice lowered in volume with each uttered syllable, until her request dissolved into silence.

“O-Or advice! T-T-That works, too!” She suddenly sputtered, realizing how absolutely pathetic she sounded. 

I need healing!

@chemicalofkindness

Markus rushed over to the civilian, his staff tight in his grip. “Support has arrived! How can I help you?”

#ic #engclsgleich

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

@technotranquility;; It had been a week since she’d bid Zenyatta farewell. 

She rehearsed what she’d say the previous night and this morning, to thank the guru for his wisdom and allowing her to reach a conclusion she believed she would not have otherwise discovered. He’d not say it outright, but his patience and understanding nudged her towards the answer, when she’d thought she was too dense to realize it.

She peered around the corner, ensuring that the teacher was presently alone. Perfect. But now, she’d need to summon the courage to approach him...

It’s alright, Kiara. He won’t think you’re weird. It’s alright. 

She inhaled deeply, forgetting to exhale until she was halfway to scampering to him, her lilac-dressed form a clumsy sight. “Um...!” Shit, what did she rehearse again? “I, um...” A blush diffused across her freckled skin as she now stood before him, gazing every which-a-way in an attempt to find words. “Uh...

“H-H-Here!” She extended both her arms out to the guru, facing downwards as if afraid of his expression.

In one hand was a little ornament made of handcrafted glass, inside of a petal of preserved sakura resting among a palette of pink and white. In her other, a notebook she’d assembled herself, containing the amateurishly prettified data sets of her respondents’ answer to the question of the nature of kindness. She was no graphic designer, but she stayed up watching tutorials to at least try.

“I wanted to thank you...for your kindness. I, um, was able to find my answer, if you’d...you’d like to hear it?”

She raised her head and smiled diffidently, a hue of pink and red suffused across her cheeks.

#ic #technotranquility #oops #went overboard #no need to match length

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴. 𝚂𝙰𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙴 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂 𝙰𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙰𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝙴. 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻 𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴, 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄, 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄. 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶, 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴.

From his answer alone, Kiara could tell that this respondent had often contemplated upon the nature of kindness to the point of its pursuit. She technically wasn’t supposed to read their responses, but… “What a nice definition. Thank you for taking the time to respond; I’ll record it as soon as I can. It…means a lot.”

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

There was a cadence in the barmaid’s words that the student was too exhausted to describe, but it somehow felt...soothing. To this unexpected comfort, she stared half-vacantly at the nice woman, her senses subconsciously latching onto the first solace it could find. Her voice was lovely, Kiara thought, like a little bell.

“Ooooh!” The high-pitched sound escaped her when her brain finally absorbed what the barmaid was saying. “I w-want...uh...”

She’d barely contained her urge to simply say, “everything,” to her liver’s relief. At the same time, she’d still felt indecisive, when the mere names of the specials were seducing her wallet good. Well, the barmaid seemed kindly enough, so it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Um, can you recommend something to me? I like...sweet things. Fruity things.” Proper descriptors failed to form, but it was comprehensible enough.

Besides, it would be nice to hear a sweet voice talk some more.

#ic #musearian #:3 #hopefully kiara doesn't seem too creepy #but she loves the way maeka speaks <3

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

“It’s for my research project. I-I’m a grad student.  I’m researching, well, kindness.”

She averted her eyes, gaze oscillating left and right and up and down, before finally settling back onto the omnic. She’d explained her studies numerous times before, and yet she always found it mildly onerous to repeat her research to folks curious about why such a timid lass was wandering about randomly asking philosophical questions. This respondent seemed nice, though.

Most people had regarded her topic with interest, while others had found her research futile. Disrespectful, even.

“S-Specifically, the neural correlates of kindness. The biology of kindness. I-I wanted to add a component other than MRI, so I added this survey and, um.... I know it must sound a b-bit silly, but...it’s interesting, I think!”

She smiled with a humble sort of pride, unconsciously raising her tablet upwards as if lifting a child.

#ic #shyscraps #it's all good! <3

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

@musearian;; Kiara was not allowed to drink without adult supervision.

This was (according to her college friends) the Law of the Land.

Unfortunately, as passive and submissive as the young woman generally was, damn, she loved her booze. She loved the rush of alcohol circulating throughout her bloodstream, each molecule racing to her brain. She loved spontaneously melting in her seat, internally ensconced by its depressive warmth. She loved the sheer freedom alcohol gifted her, releasing the anxious girl from even her most tightly suppressed inhibitions.

Agitation evaporated from each follicle of her skin. She’d just finished a day of interpreting some cumbersome statistics while trapped in a stuffy lab, numbers seen but barely comprehended, after a blurry weekend of prerequisite analysis of the same data. 

The graduate student heaved a sigh as she opened doors to the bar, stubby legs trudging along the floor as if they’d barely carried her weight.

“E-Excuse me,” she squeaked, climbing with minor difficulty onto the bar stool. “Um, w-what kind of vodka drinks do you serve?” 

She smiled sheepishly, knowing full well it was only a Monday.

#ic #musearian #tw: alcohol

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

For one whose words were as warm and gentle as candlelight waning at dawn, in his mechanical hands contained the strength of a seasoned warrior. 

Tekhartha Zenyatta. The name echoed softly in her mind. She’d heard others speak of him before, and yet it sounded new when uttered by the renowned teacher himself. So, she stood in place, carefully listening to his words, his touch emanating a sort of tenderness that she did not know she sought. 

“Kiara. Kiara Robinson.” The student smiled, small but true. “I hope to see you again, Zenyatta.” She did not know what he’d wish for her to call him, so it was none other than his name that slipped out. “Goodbye.”

And with the finality of their first farewell, the girl turned around and journeyed towards an unknown destination. She concluded: He was kindness.

And even so, Zenyatta would consider Kiara a star.

Perhaps gentler in her shine, and one that could be hard to see between the brighter glow of surrounding stars - but beautiful none the less, perhaps even more so, when given time to twinkle.

Of course, the monk knew full well how lonely times could get - after all, most people only look for wisdom when they have a problem. So when he was not helping someone, he was on his own: and he found it particularly safe to assume that she would be similar in that regard. The only difference would be that the monk learned what to do in that silence and solitude, while she most likely did not.

Once she turned away, Zenyatta reached out to gently hold her on the shoulder, keeping her in place as well as grabbing her attention for a more proper farewell. Even if she would try to ignore or avoid it, he was not about to let her slip away with nothing to gain from this conversation.

「 ༀ - Then I hope you can remember: you shall be blamed whether you do something or not. You are already helping people, my friend - so focus on them instead. 

If you even seek solace again, my name is Tekhartha Zenyatta, and I shall be here. 

I hope you find what you are looking for. Farewell.  」

#ic #technotranquility #let me know if you have some difficulty figuring out how to reply to this! #because kiara definitely plans to stop by and see him again and i'll be happy to make the new thread #but only if you're up for it of course!

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

“Thank you so much!” Kiara withdrew the tablet from their hands, grinning gratefully.

Technically, the researcher was not supposed to read her respondents’ answers, but it was hard not to “accidentally” glance at the response. 

An index finger was curled against the lower half of her mouth, unable to contain a hearty giggle from escaping her lips. What an adorably quaint response! Most respondents would channel their most philosophical personas in typing out their answers, and here this omnic quoted the all-knowing dictionary. 

“I like your answer,” Kiara admitted, smiling. “It reminds me of my own.” Another sheepish laugh was drawn from from the forehead-scarred girl, friendly and serene. 

#ic #shyscraps #omf #zirzir is like #the second person she's not a sputtering mess with

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

Voicecanon

Kiara’s voice may be described as relatively low-pitched compared to the average woman, but noticeably soft and mildly raspy. She speaks slowly, with a minor stutter, but she will blur her words at an accelerated pace when sufficiently emotional (which isn’t rare).

Marie Cabanos’s English rendition of Madoka Kaname is a good baseline reference for Kiara’s voice.

#headcanon #voicecanon

[chemicalofkindness-blog]

Never asked to do a survey before? How odd, given the ubiquity of digital information. Their minor revelation piqued the researcher’s curiosities, but she was far too polite to inquire further when the potential respondent evidently seemed nervous. 

“Mhmm. I-If you could just type it out here, I would really, um, appreciate it.”

The budding scientist extended out her arms, offering up the tablet to the omnic. “You can just tap it and it’ll turn on. But again, if you’d rather not fill this out, I understand! Don’t worry about it.” She flashed them a gentle smile, hoping to mollify their anxieties, as she’d know all too well what it was like to feel pressured beyond what words could protest.

#ic #shyscraps #that'd be so interesting! #cause kiara's definition is like #prefrontal cortex #or some shit