Hoping I'll actually be able to update the profile carrd tomorrow. I need to figure out how to trim down Kingdom's """summary""" so it's actually a summary and not a creative writing essay.
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i like still can't swallow or breathe tbh without clenching in my chest
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You are not a real person.
You wear a face that is not your own.
You were designed to die.
You wear a face that gets you recognized around the grounds of a school you are not enrolled at (you aren't enrolled at any school.) You live in the same house as the person you were supposed to be. She has the right voice, stands the right way, wears her clothes correctly. When you look like her, you feel wrong. You see all the parts of yourself that are wrong, the makeup you wear, your style, your mannerisms. You can only see all the parts of yourself that fall short of her, but, any closer, wouldn't feel like you.
You are at a party. You don't know anyone her besides her friends (they are the only people you have ever known, but they never know what to make of you.) They helped you enroll in your own school, one that won't know you, one that won't know her. The other day you were desperate, uncertain and panicked. You took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. She never had to worry about that. She never has to worry about disappearing. The steps were confusing, you could've done it wrong. There is a rumble in the ground and you all leap to action, you're loading cannons, healing people, sharing the blessing of her deity (you never really bothered to ask her about all that.)
You are needed on the roof. You can feel it.
The storm is thick and choking, the spray of clouds forces your eyes partly closed. You take stumbling steps towards her. She is on her knees. You've seen her pray before, but something about this is different. You can't tell if its tears or mist pooling on her face. You can't tell if its the pains of combat or the strain of heartbreak contorting her expression. The prayer itself feels wrong too, less holy and more personal.
You follow her gaze.
The words leave your lips before you realize, an automatic reaction to the mammoth mess of wind and cloud and hate: "Blimey."
There is a face in the storm. Monumental, twisting, grotesque, but a face nonetheless. You are good at recognizing faces. She looks a bit... No. It is grotesque. Monstrous. The face you see in nightmares. Lightning cracks and whips around you. You feel something deep and heavy click in your chest as lighting cracks inside the storm. It looks exactly like her.
It looks exactly like you.
And She is beautiful.
It was awe that clicked in your chest. Fear and hope. Awful and awesome. Sublime. Recognition of a power that is beyond yourself.
You don't know what will happen to you if you survive tonight. You don't know how long you live. You don't know where you go when you die.
But you need to reach Her.
You place a hand on her shoulder and take a step towards the roiling clouds, towards It. You can reach her, that is all that is certain.
"I don't know if you heard me,"
The face contorts with rage and fear. It knows not what it is. It is everything that is wrong with Her. It will destroy you, when you return Her. That's O.K.
"But I said—"
You were designed to die.
Lightning envelops you as uncertainty replaces fear. It burns your hands, clasped in prayer, it singes your lips, forming the words of your impromptu, awestruck prayer. It's lightning is not what destroys you though. You feel the prayer work as a peace in all the chaos of your life becomes clear, waves of cool night and weighty cosmic power flow through you, calling you home.
You die a person.
Goodbye K2.
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Vengeful Knight
When Danny moved to Gotham he didn't think that would be a problem, his rogues agreed to let him go (or at least, most of them) and it was a good opportunity to get his college degree.
Of course, you can't spend your whole life with ghosts without getting attached to them or having them getting attached to you. Although most of them had promised, Danny was well aware that not all of them were going to keep that promise.
A good example was Fright Knight, who instead of staying in the Realms decided to move in with him and provide additional "protection"; the halfa figured it made sense, since he was now "heir" or whatever, he was just setting him back a few years.
Fright Knight took his job very seriously, mostly hiding in Danny's shadow and keeping watch. That was fine until the halfa got caught in a rogue attack in Gotham and inevitably, Frighty decided to do his job and press a sword down their throats.
Danny escaped from there soon after, but this trend continued to happen (rogues, muggers, even cops, anything "dangerous" ended up with a sword around his neck).
When he read in the Gotham newspaper about the "spirit of a knight" and "Gotham's recent problem with nightmares" he knew he had to do something about it. He was almost certain that people were going to consider him a vigilante or worse, a bat.
Besides, the nightmare dimension was getting pretty crowded and Danny didn't want to be part of the trauma of half the population in Gotham.
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Stress token? Stress token. Okay yeah cool. So cool. I'm not worried about the STRESS TOKENS at all! Just feeling so normal and cool about the STRESS TOKENS. Nothing can make me feel upset about the STRESS TOKENS. They are so cool! :)
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