Baby Blue Wave, #6

[ she takes notice of the expression. there's a moment where she considers detailing just how 'worse' things became for her and how the 'taste' of fresh air in her slashed throat felt...

instead she relents, and releases the collar. ]

indeed. though, it made for quite a story to tell.

Can't just press the 'I Win' button for enemies that should rightly put them on t-shirts, gotta 'Goku' these things, but... if you let them get a head of steam?

If you let a Fujibayashi into her element, and DON'T find a way to pull her out of it before you put her down?

Oof.

Chiyo's bio quote is:
𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴;
𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬.
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴
𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴.

Masayo's parting words to Chiyo were 'Win, No Matter What'.

Pure Shonen Sensibilities, they HAVE to go through the fight to earn the victory, ofc.

Someone tells them 'You can't win this fight'. And if they believe that, then they lose. But if they don't, and I mean if they REALLY don't, they'll get stronger, faster, more durable, etc. etc. just to reach a point where they can win.

And it SUCKS, cause they have to 'work their way up' to it.

lotus

i've been thinking about this for a few weeks now, and I think the Fujibayashi Clan's Cursed Technique is 'Self-Inflicted Apotheosis'.

They, the ones who are properly meant to wield the technique, can augment themselves, their power, their durability, their STATS as a whole through belief.

alpha sneasel who lived at the edge of a tundra.

[ hand raises to the collar of her yukata, lowering it a touch to reveal more than a handful of deep scars wrapping her throat. ]

she took umbrage with an outsider in her domain.

i've done battle with my fair share of alphas. believe me, the fun is well remembered.

the scars are well remembered, too.

a reality governed by different whims and winds... paradise at the turn of a page.

masayo. it's been a pleasure.

she's seen cuter.

fighting an alpha head-up...

impressive. foolhardy, but impressive.

those damn, plucky ten-year-olds skewing the data and the perceptions of the league evermore...

i'm not ashamed to say i prefer the fiction. 'victory on the wings of tomorrow' and all.

lotus

we will be SEATED for the upcoming Silky Arc!!! and be giving Esther plenty of opportunity to be suspicious of the Oni in the time in-between !

lotus

rocket era!masayo love of my life... that's really chiyo's momma, her dad's genes fought and lost BAD.

lotus

bless youuu i love my big evil mom. I feel EVERYONE should be concerned, tbh, she's a whole demon

/ there IS a part two to Masayo's story (remember when I promised it was gonna be short?? and that I wouldn't get into ALL of her bag? Fucking hell...)

but I didn't wanna dump it all at once. gotta earn* her level 2 backstory

The Great Killer Hornet of Team Rocket.

She who Hunted the Gods & Toppled their Thrones.

...what her clan had once called heresy, she served openly. What the world decried as blasphemy and terrorism, she made into policy. Into sacrament.

The sun shone on her no longer, too weary to light her wickedness.

And so, in the veil of drawn night, she served as the cleaver that severed fates.

Again. And again. And again did she storm divine halls and tear sacred authority from 'unquestioned seat'.

She returned 'gods' not as wonders attached to hip, but as chained trophies, broken, docile, and ruined that they might serve His goals.

He, the man who first dared to spit at the Gods.

Their quest was written not in blood but in the ichor of the very divine they were tasked with dealing with.

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒, 𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒.
𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓. 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐓.
𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓. 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃.
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓.

When her violence proved itself worthy of higher rituals, the gang elevated her into command. She was placed at the head of warriors forged for one holy purpose! Though, make you no mistake, it was a holiness without goodness in tow.

A cabal of hunters, predators, and agents of divine violence.

In less learned circles, others whispered of her as the Great Killer Hornet.

A plague from above, cast upon these lands by a God without mercy for the suffering of man.

Her strikes were swifter than repentance. Her presence made even the bravest men question whether courage was worth the cost.

By campfire and roadside, by rumor traded like contraband along rattata-laden routes and pidgey-infested airways, she became something else. Something worse.

鬼. A spirit enamored with the flesh of her fallen foes.

Known to wear a smile like crimson, for she knew a feast was always promised her.

Her enemies did not merely die. No whelp who ever raised a sword against her was given the honor of simply 'dying'.

Those who thought themselves her equal were erased from the meaning of things. From the recollection of the Universe itself.

And soon the legends stopped calling her 'princess'.

Her admins sent her where the world’s saints kept their secrets.

To steal treasures hidden in sacred places. To leave silent ruins where prayers once stood.

She fought with the gang for nearly ten years! Fighting, raging, LAUGHING as if every strike were a condemnation passed down from on high.

She joined at thirteen. Abandoning her clan in broad daylight, passing through the gates of Enju City with no plan to return until she'd her dream in hand, and the world at her feet.

What a world it was for her to trample, raze, and grind 'neath her heels. What a WORLD they tried to keep from her.

So when Team Rocket came like a rumor slowly turning to thunder? When its bannermen promised not restraint but glory? Not obedience but conquest!

The child's heart recognized the shape of power presented to her.

'All Things Exist for Our Glory!'

How familiar. How... enticing. How foolish she was.

The elders of the clan expected honor from her the way storms expect to fall. She was to lead her people into a new era, a modern era on the cusp of wonder and advancement yet unseen!

But honor, the child learned, is merely another form of obedience.

Another altar demanding prostration & devotion.

Masayo Fujibayashi was meant for the Battle. No one in her life ever dared pretend otherwise.

They named her a princess, yet the world could not call her gentle. Even as a child, she moved as an omen would through the halls of the superstitious.

Silent as the shadows, precise as her unsworn vows.