#calmnessispower
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@calmnessispower
The sound of the scavengers whooping and cheering their way back to camp was enough to set Daryl’s teeth gritting. They were off schedule by more than six hours, but what else was new? And sounded more like drunk fratboys than grown men coming back from a hunt.
He set down the brach he’d been sharpening into a bolt and rolled to his feet, knife still in hand.
“Hey.” Merle was on the bed of the truck but Daryl didn’t let his relief show, aiming a scowl at the beer in his good hand. “Mind keeping it down? You’re all making enough noise to wake the dead that’ve already had their skulls busted open.”
Pete snorted as he pushed out of the driver’s seat, cracking his own beer open. Not his first, from the damp stain on his shirt.
“Like you can talk, with that bike of yours.” Which just made Daryl’s shit mood that much worse. He stalked in a step, shoulders rolling tense for a fight. Merle’s wheezing laugh pulled him short.
“Don’t be a buzzkill, baby brother. We got us a good haul today.”
Six hours late for some stale beer. Sounded about right. Daryl rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, see that. And you’re already half-done drinking it.”
“Nah.” Merle seemed smug in that way that almost always meant bad news. And always left Daryl cleaning up his messes. “That’s just celebration. Know how you’re always saying this place is going to shit?” Not exactly true. Daryl was just the only person who cared about keeping the place halfway decent. Keeping the fences up. Keeping the food from expiring. Merle liked to say Daryl’s time with the Atlanta group had left soft and prissy.
Daryl didn’t like thinking about the Atlanta group much at all.
“I know none of you like doing the shit jobs,” he shot back. Merle’s smirk widened, and he nodded toward the bed of the truck.
“Well then, we got our problem solved.” The way Pete and Lou snickered had Daryl’s hackles raising. He narrowed his eyes, crossing to peer into the bed of the truck.
“Yeah,” Pete’s words slurred ugly from the drink. “Found ourselves a cleaning lady to keep the place nice and neat as princess wants.” But Daryl barely heard him. Barely noticed heavy boots thumping across the bed of the truck as Merle hopped down, slamming his fist into Pete’s face.
“Talk that way about my brother, it’ll be the other fist next time.” Like he wouldn’t have said the same thing.
Daryl barely noticed because he was busy staring at the bruised up brunet man lying in the truck bed, arms and legs bound by thick ropes.
Shit, Merle. What the hell do I gotta clean up this time?
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Wholly Interesting
((closed starter w/ @calmnessispower))
Humans, how queer...
Through the ages, he had watched kingdoms rise and fall, kings and generals come and go. Some of them leaving more of a mark than the others, some? They just fade away into obscurity without even leaving a scratch in the books of history.
There were mortals who were more perceptive to the other side, and mortals who knew nothing of the other side, yet still attempted to see if they could harness that hidden strength. Why so? Not that he could understand, even if he truly wished for so.
Humans were a strange, strange race.
Even as he stood over the sprawling city, with their towering spires and numerous streets that intercrossed each other like the lines of a spider’s web, Tyraemon mused with a chuckle to himself, or that was what the humans would call it, wouldn’t it? A rumble from deep within the depths of his throat, like that sound they called laughter except far quieter.
Wind rustled softly through the scarlet “cloak” wrapped around his form, the knight - formed god stopping to listen to the soft noises that were pestering the back of his head since the start of the evening.
Had he a human’s appearance, his brows would have furrowed from annoyance. That familiar sound of prayer, if one could even call that pathetic attempt at speaking the old Latin a prayer to him, in their attempts to rouse his attention. How many times had this already happened in the millennia since he existed? How many fires must he snuff out to teach them that if he was interested in them, that he would come find them?
The god turned his attention towards the source: an abandoned warehouse, tucked away in one of the darker neighborhoods.
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Closed//
@calmnessispower
So maybe he had taken a bit too much or maybe it was the drinks. The sounds all around him blaring and his head spinning. It beat seeing dead people and that was all that it mattered to Klaus.
Even so, he was far too out of it as he walked the dark streets of the city. Stumbling here and there, steadying himself on the sides of the buildings. His clothing were worn and mismatched but clearly of value.
Klaus continued down the sidewalk, headed towards a place he slept regularly when he wasn’t in rehab. Catching himself as he tripped before he decided maybe camping out on the bench wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Settling there, propping his feet up on the side and pulling his scarf more around his face.
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@calmnessispower
from X
“Been lookin’ for days.” His fingers traced over Charles’ cheeks, eyes scanning down his throat, chest, arms. Searching for wounds (searching for bites), taking in the bloodied clothes, the shallow cuts, the bruised and swollen fingers.
He was alive, though. That was all that mattered.
“Shit.” The word slipped out shaky. His thumb traced over Charles’ lip, hands moving restless over his cheeks before dropping to catch his hips instead. “Couldn’t find a trace anywhere, thought...” He’d thought a lot of things. None of them that he wanted to talk about right now.
He blew out a nerve-rough breath and nuzzled into Charles’ temple, pressed a kiss to his cheek just for the sake of the contact.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, outta these wet clothes.”
Make sure Charles wasn’t even worse off than he seemed like.
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Recruitment (@Calmnessispower)
A certain kind of operation tends to be handed to Coulson.
He’s not everyone’s favorite person, certainly. He’s been accused of being an LMD or just a straightup robot. But he’s respected (sometimes begrudgingly) and almost everyone agrees, if it’s weird people with superpowers, or weird traumas, you probably want to send him. He takes to superpowers like a duck to water, and is pretty damn good at not flinching.
So when Xavier’s file lands on his desk, his interest is peaked.
He immediately recommends against any combat action, ever. This is a civilian with what’s probably a born-in condition (possibly also collateral from an experiment), there’s no reason to cause a problem that doesn’t already exist. But, the powers are intriguing, and he agrees to go speak to the man, and even readies a job offer.
SHIELD’s got a very muddied past with ‘special’ people but the ones they’ve got, they try to look after. He arrives at Xavier’s alone, in a nondescript sedan, in a suit and tie.
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@calmnessispower
En got to know xir customers. It was good for business, but xe didn't do it for that. Xe did it because xe cared and worried about them. Which was why he made sure that the only people selling drugs in the place we're selling safe, top-quality merchandise. Even with that though, xe kept track of who purchased more often and just kept an eye on them. Tan always had called xir a mother hen. "You, uh, you doin' alright there, Charles?"
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I had active threads @longlivedeasilybored with
@godsxsoldiers
@scp-3177
@trust-my-glorious-purpose
@misfxtteam
@loptr-god-of-mischief
@dontcallmepepper
@physicsgoesballistic
@thisallseemsterrible
@burritosandbabes
@calmnessispower
If you’d like to continue those threads here, let me know!
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Good Idea At The Time
@calmnessispower
It might have been because Harley was away on his first actually dangerous solo reconaissance, and there was a real possibility that the kid (okay, not really a kid, but he acted like one) might go off mission and do something that would get him into trouble that was nagging at him.
Or it might have been that seeing a kid in an alley looking worse for wear reminded him of another kid that used to happen to, a long, long time ago.
Whatever the reason, from his vantage point on a roof, Bucky stopped to watch the interaction between a grubby looking 12ish year old and two older teenager who looked much more well fed.
They were all being kind of furtive, speaking in low voices except when tempers flared. It seemed like the older kids--a guy and a girl--wanted the younger one to do something that he very much didn’t want to do.
He was unsurprised when the fight broke out, but he WAS surprised when the girl waved a hand and a trash can lifted off the ground all by itself to smash into the wall by the kid, scattering garbage. The other teen lifted a hand to spread fingers that were starting to glow a weird purple.
Well, fuck.
The Winter Soldier would have just shot them, but Bucky didn’t figure that was a good option, kids and all, even if they were magic or whatever, and picking on a smaller kid. He’d seen stuff like this before from Zed, and Harley wasn’t exactly normal, but this did complicate things.
The part of his mind that didn’t want to draw attention to his fugitive self suggested that he leave, but the part that was a fucking moron propelled him off the roof and onto a fire escape. From there, he jumped to the ground between the teenagers and the kid, his metal arm whirring as he picked up the trash can, flinging it at the attackers hard enough to bowl them over.
While they were picking themselves up, Bucky grabbed the kid and threw him up to the first fire escape level--which wasn’t all that graceful from either of them--then jumped onto a dumpster from which he was able to jump to the fire escape himself.
The kid looked scared and was staring at his arm like a kid who might have seen the highway fight in Washington on the news. “I’m less trouble than the trouble you had down there. I don’t want a damn thing from you, except that those shitheads don’t murder you in my neighborhood. Get moving. Up to the roof.”
Maybe the boy would have done as he’d been told, or maybe he wouldn’t, but a purple energy projectile hit the wall, sending brick chips flying, and giving him motivation to climb the damn ladder.
The boy ran to the exit door, but Bucky shook his head. “Too close. Your pals are too powerful to fuck around with. We need to jump to the next roof.”
“I can’t jump to the next roof!” The kid’s voice was shrill with adrenaline and fear.
Bucky looked at the boy, dark haired and wiry--older than he thought, but small. Fourteen? Fifteen? “What’s your name, kid?”
There was a sullen pause before he answered. “Miguel.”
“You don’t have to jump, Miguel. You just have to hold on while I do. Then we’ll get you away from here and you can go about your business.”
An even longer pause, and averted gaze, then, “They’ll find me. They have before.”
“Then I’ll show you how to hide, if you want, but for now, we gotta go.”
Once Miguel was holding on, Bucky ran the length of the roof, then jumped, his momentum carrying him across an alley to the next building, and from there to next.
He was kinda surprised the kid didn’t pee on him.
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@calmnessispower
#alright i was bored#calmnessispower#we've still got no name for our rp#daryl dixon rp#charles xavier rp#rp: finding home
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Hello! I was wondering if you’d be interested in a rp with my @calmnessispower sideblog. I couldn’t find rules if you have a page for them, or your dark knight blog either, but I’d love to see them if you have anyway! Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon!
https://ironbcrnheir.tumblr.com/rules
Here it is ^^ thank you for asking, I know that it’s not a page that you can find on mobile easily. My fandomless Black Knight blog is on @abysscnborn, I took a look at your blog, but I can’t seem to find your rules/pages? Because I am definitely down for a rp.
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New life (closed starter)
Tony sighed climbing out of the sports car in the driveway of the large house. He had to admit as prepschools went this place looked pretty nice. He didn’t know much about “Xavier’s School for Gifted Children” but it had made Pepper’s short list for grants. If he was being honest it was a distraction from Steve. Tony could track him down, part of him wanted to, but Steve leaving had been a pretty clear message. He had his folder with all the paperwork for the grant Tony was offering and walked up the front steps to the door.
@calmnessispower
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@!
@calmnessispower is my very first friend on this blog, and I put off shouting you out ‘cause you literally never look at these things but screw that, you deserve to be shouted out at ;P For ages it was just us on here, and you are literally the reason this blog still exists. You are such a sweet person who only deserves the best things.
And I adore our dumb boys
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Veritas
(A starter for @calmnessispower)
The door to the small cottage opened, revealing a slightly taller than average and a small boy with black hair and eyes. “Professor Xavier?” Yuichirou asked, looking over at Charles and Erik, accidentally extending his hand to Erik. “No, I’m Erik Lehnsherr. This is Professor Xavier.” The metal-manipulating mutant explained, Yuichirou nodding and shaking the telepath’s hand. “Welcome to Hinamizawa. This is my son, Saburo.” He explained, pushing Saburo forward a little.
The small boy gasped a little as his father put him forwards. Despite best attempts, it was hard to disguise what was really happening behind closed doors. The slightly frightened expression, the scratches on his arms and the bruises covered up with foundation, barely visible in the sunlight.
“Tell him what you can do, sweetie.” The dark-haired man explained with a smile like that of a shark finding wounded prey, Erik immediately tensing a little when he figured out what was happening. “I’m a telepath...” He nodded, saying that part by projecting it into their minds before lifting several cars in the street with his telekinesis.
“Please, come in.” Yuichirou asked, getting inside and Saburo following, it appeared to be just them. Saburo was evidently very powerful but had a hard time controlling his powers considering as Yuichirou hissed words in Japanese at the boy the ornaments shook, his powers reacting to his fear. Having dropped his small bear, Saburo bent over and revealed the beginning of a belt mark on his thigh before standing up again and sitting down as his father made the tea.
“Do excuse the photos, they’re quite old. My wife left me 2 years ago and took my eldest Shoichi with her to Tokyo. Since then it’s been me and Saburo.” He explained, making some snacks to busy himself.
“Charles, it’s evident he’s abusing Saburo. We need to do something, by the time the authorities do something Yuichirou could flee the country or have killed Saburo.” Erik whispered very quietly to his friend, having reunited with Charles and renounced his violent ways 2 years prior. He still hated humans but didn’t actively persecute or attack them anymore, although the way he was looking at the knives made it clear what he wanted to do to Saburo’s father. They wanted a child so badly and yet this man abused his own.
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Cont. from @calmnessispower
Searching for the misfits of the mutant world had become common for Charles Xavier. He felt a certain connection to them, and his heart strings tugged painfully when he encountered a child mutant in need. After all, it had become his life, the very idea his school was built on. With the invention of Cerebro locating mutants became even easier, Charles could search more than just a few hundred miles, he could sense more than the mere presence of a mutant, he could locate then easily now. One mutant in particular had caught his attention, a young telepath with dangerous outbursts. Such an iniability to control their mind, Charles knew it well and wasn’t surprised to find the boy was hiding out in abandoned houses, it likely kept him safe. It took little time for Charles to reach the house, but when he did he didn’t waste any time in making a swift and quiet entrance, immediately sensing the boys presence. Charles lips parted to speak before he hesitated, thinking better of it. It would be best to show he was like him, so he would use telepathy to speak in the boys mind.
/You needn’t be afraid. My name is Charles Xavier, I’m like you./
Upon hearing the voice the kid frantically scampered off into the nearest corner. Keeping his knees tight against his chest, and his head down, beneath his arms.
The kid knew what the man meant, he had learned about others with abilities, just like him. Stryker had especially taught him about telepathics. They could talk to or manipulate others using their mind.
The thought of telepathics brought back painful memories from not so long ago.
He had been born as a telekinetic mutant. Much to Stryker’s dismay upon discovering him. However it made him an all the more likely subject for his wicked and horrific experiments. After years of prodding around in his head, and testing his capabilities, Stryker had found a way to alter his mutation. Thus turning into a scientific freak of nature, according to his partners.
Stryker had given him the ability to tap into people’s minds, but at great costs. It would render his body useless, almost making his body zombie like, until he returned to his own mind. He could only tap into their minds for short periods of time, any second longer could damage his brain. If he was having an especially good day, he could manipulate and control one’s mind as well. Though the after affects left him with agonizing migraines that felt endless, and bloody noses and severe nausea. His longest record was two minutes, and even afterwards he suffered from a seizure due to how far he had stretched his mind thin.
All of that poking and prodding around his brain for a painful two minutes of telepathic ability. He still had the scars to show as well. Though his hair had grown and could cover them, they would never heal or go away. Neither would the memories.
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(Closed starter with @calmnessispower )
On nights like this, the cold would get to him. It was the perfect mix of draft and tears as an addition to the loneliness that constantly weighed down his shoulders. Ralph held his face and he winced. The storm inside of him had passed. Now all he needed to do was wait out the one brewing outside.
He had been living in this godforsaken house for a few weeks now. As soon as he had turned 18, Ralph had been kicked out of his home. A few years later, he still continued to squat. It was far from a steady life. He had traveled all over the place, and yet it was only to find another abandoned house and to try and make it through another couple of weeks before he moved on.
Ralph’s heart leapt into his chest when the door squeaked open. He scrambled to hide, but he was sure his panicked breathing would give him away. All he had was a pocket knife and the ability to run.
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1 of the BEST things I LOVE about #yogapractice is your are asked to be quiet for 1 hour and Focus on working on You, stop the chatter of the Mind, Practice lotts of SelF Love until the end & then You are asked to say 1 Word... #namaste “Callmness is Power” Tonight HoT was 🔥 with Tristan 🙌🏼 #youga #idoyoga #selflove #youdeserveit #calmnessispower #bestill #mobilitycomesfirst #yoga #yogaislife #lifeisyoga #breathedeeply & #breathethroughit #victorybreathe #practice #yoga6 #sanclemente #fridaynightsession #fire 🔥 (at YogaSix) https://www.instagram.com/p/CIaOC8Bjk1R/?igshid=u0mj87gukbwz
#yogapractice#namaste#youga#idoyoga#selflove#youdeserveit#calmnessispower#bestill#mobilitycomesfirst#yoga#yogaislife#lifeisyoga#breathedeeply#breathethroughit#victorybreathe#practice#yoga6#sanclemente#fridaynightsession#fire
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