The woman leads me down and round, the few paths twisting and turning, the number of Chi signals around me decreasing, until she finally stops in front of her home, its vague, boxy, two-floored shape reminding me of a council house. The clinking of metal, a rattling of simple mechanism, sounds as she opens her small, wooden gate, low walls on either side, and holds it open for me, waving me in, "Quick nou." With rushed steps, I pass her, my feet crossing brick and grass.
I stop before an elevated door, a small step separating it from the ground, and place a performative, shaky hand on it, letting out a breath of relief, feeling the cold plastic beneath my fingers. I step to the side as the woman approaches with a jingling of keys, slotting one into the door and twisting, pushing it open with a slight whine. As she enters and waves me in, I follow her inside, stepping foot on a welcome mat, its bristles tickling my soles, while the woman goes to slip off her shoes.
Closing the door behind me with a click, I stand in the entrance, sensing the structure of the home and for any more residents, when a gesturing hand gets my attention. Looking to her, doing my best to find her eyes, I listen as she speaks, her tone concerned, "A'm awa tae phone the polis, you awa' and freshen up, get yersel sorted oot." she points up the stairs in front of us, "Up there, right afore ye, ye cannae miss it." I feel her Chi ripple as she looks at me, so I give her a nod, causing her to turn away.
With her back now to me, I cycle my Chi and say quietly, "Thank you for all your help," then, with slight reluctance, reach out a hand and jab her in the back. Flickering, I catch her as she starts to fall, my Chi interrupting her consciousness, sending her to sleep. Picking her up, I carry her into her living room, the shape of the sofa clear to me, and gently place her down on it. With a sigh, I step back and remove my jacket, baring all, watching her steadily flowing Chi.
As nice as it'd be to sit down with her and allow her to help me, at the end of the day, she's just a normal person. One who doesn't deserve to have her life ruined simply because she helped me, unknowingly getting herself caught up in the game of gods and monsters. A loud snore leaves the woman as she shifts, making herself more comfortable on the leather, her hand sliding up to clutch her pillow. The sound causes me to let out a small, tension-releasing chuckle, my shoulders slumping.
Taking a deep breath, I hold it, a half-meditative state blanketing my mind and calming me, before releasing it, purging myself of my worries. With that done, I go to move away, the call of the shower tempting me, when a staggered flicker runs through the woman's Chi. I whip my head to her in surprise, focusing all my senses, both physical and spiritual, and possible mystical, on her, the abrupt change in her life-force ringing alarm bells in my mind.
As much as I wish I could divine the cause of the aberration, with my current, damaged Dao, I simply cannot risk activating it. Staring at her, I attempt to use a more deductive approach, watching her Chi and making note of any physical changes. A second flicker runs through her as I observe, my concentrated focus catching an oddity, a shadow occupying a section of her body, her Chi unable to penetrate it. A jolt of recognition flashes through me, a grave expression donning my face, as I kneel down next to her, placing a hand on her covered stomach.
Guiding my Chi into my fingers, I say to her, my tone resolved, "Apologies for this, ma'am." Infusing my Chi into the flesh under me, I investigate the shadow, wrapping my vastly more powerful life-force around it, examining its boundaries and trying to determine its identity. A frown comes to me, a pit forming in my stomach, as my Chi struggles to penetrate whatever it is, the shadow rejecting my energy. Pulling my Chi back with a sigh, I lift my hand from her and lean back, pressing my weight on my heels.
I let out a curse, my frustration leaking out, "For fucks sake." Turning my head to the ceiling, I close my eyes, a purely symbolic gesture, and purge myself of all unnecessary thoughts, allowing new ideas to be born from the void of spirit, the ether responding with haste. My eyes slowly open, a heat to them, a smile curling my lips, as a solution, perhaps, comes to me. Calling up the description of my newest power, I take it in a second time, internalising its contents, happiness blooming in my heart as I do.
Reaching inside me, I feel for its existence, finding a corona of eternal light and warming fire, an emanation of waiting life, seeming to exist within, while touching upon from without. Standing gradually, my resolve reinforcing my spirit, my body filling with vitality, I hold my hands out, palms ups, and release. My senses are immediately hiccuped by external, ceaseless activity; a domain of ethereal, orange fire, spawning on a wave of white light, washing over my surroundings.
Sharp, soul-deep pain cuts along my arms as I begin to heal the woman, cold sweat dripping back my back as jagged, golden lines appear on my fingers. The lines burn into my senses as they branch out, forking around my wrists and running up my arms, my flesh tearing and my skin splitting, cracks slicing through me and crawling along my limbs. An ache forms deep in my bones and radiates out as they climb to my elbows, but I persevere, even as the gold creeps over my biceps and to my shoulders.
Clenching my teeth, I hold out, needing to grant the woman this boon, guiding the process as best I can, concentrating it over the mass. Satisfaction fills me as its size steadily shrinks, her Chi starting to occupy the regained space, a reclaimed sense of unity emanating from it. When the last of the shadow vanishes, my breath coming out in shaky, ragged gasps, I finally cancel the power, only to collapse, catching myself on the arm of the sofa.
Panting with strain, I calm myself with deep breaths, then raise my head and lift a hand, the golden cracks visible to me even through my blindness, the damage partly spiritual in nature. I look upon them in silence, my emotions calm, when I abruptly slap myself in the face, a deep, lengthy laugh escaping me as my cheeks stings, bouncing of the walls of the home. Sitting down, I lean back on the front of the sofa, the sleeping, newly-healed body of the woman behind me oblivious, my laughter starting to slowly die out, a final, quiet chuckle sounding.
I find myself staring off into space, the nothingness of my sight all-encompassing, as my thoughts start to wander, reviewing the last few hours, thinking on how much I fucked up. While my slight flash of enlightenment was turned into a full-blown cosmic trip by the Vermilion Bird, something that I had no control over, my current lack of sight is entirely my fault. Whatever that being was, be it an incarnation of the Phoenix or some kind of Solar Deity, it's life-giving, motherly energy drew me in, a feeling that I made no attempt to quash.
Though I know that I have a weakness in regards to mothers and family, on account of my own, tumultuous upbringing, I didn't think it would ever control me as it did. There was no reason I should've tried to divine that entity, not when it was clearly so far beyond me, especially with my understanding on the risk of cultivation and reaching outside your limits. Now, I'm crippled, for the second time in my life, this time with much greater repercussions, and I have no right to complain.
Lifting my arms before me, I run my Chi through them, testing how my healing affects them, a green glow flowing under my skin and touching upon the gold. I look on in solemn acceptance as the gold remains, completely unchanged, untouched by my Chi as it seemingly falls into a void and vanishes. With another, final sigh, I get my feet under me and stand, glancing at the woman as I leave the room, moving to the steps and climbing up them, their wood creaking under me.
Standing on the landing, I send out a concentrated pulse of Chi to map the floor, finding a bathroom on the other side of the wall before me, and two bedrooms, a master and a guest, to my right. Pushing open the door, the air of the bathroom chilly, its window ajar, I step atop the linoleum flooring and slide open the glass shower door.
Turning it on, the pressurised water starting to spray at me, I hold my hand under the stream and let it flow over, waiting until it runs hot. As the warming water impacts my new features, the droplets swimming over them, a frown forms on my brow at a series of winding, broken sensations, the lines lacking in tactile feedback. Putting that out of mind for now, taking it in stride as just another reward, I step inside, the scorching water burning over me.
Closing my eyes, my face to the stream, my longish, salt-stained hair sticking to me, I claw at my skin, its surface a picture of mistakes and time, and scrub my caked, dried blood from it. The reminder of my continued life and of the ever-present looming of death runs down me as I stand bare, an emotion of comfort offered by the internalised Purpose. Placing a hand over my heart, I accept its offering with sadness, a lump in my throat and a stinging in my eyes.
After a thorough cleaning of both my mind and of my body, I step out of the shower renewed, a feeling of weightlessness in my movements. Drying myself off, a towel wrapped around my head, I enter the master bedroom. Opening up and looking through the woman's wardrobe, running my hands over her clothing, I find them too small for my larger frame. As my fingers brush over a more fitting article, shaped like a baggy jumper, its colour unknown, I pick it out and drape it over my shoulder.
Moving on, I clutch an over-sized pair of jeans in hand as the texture of denim reaches me, finding them to be much too big for the woman. Beginning to suspect that she has a romantic partner, one that could return home at any moment, I speed up my searching. Abstaining from stealing any of the woman's underwear, because I'm not an animal, I pick out a pair of socks and gloves from a draw, then throw everything on the double bed. Sliding myself into the assuredly mismatched clothing, I make my way back downstairs, plucking a pair of sunglasses from a dresser as I pass.
Stepping to the vague impression of a shoe rack, I find a pair of work boots and slip them on, their size squishing my toes slightly, then re-enter the living room. The light snoring of the woman sounds out as I try and search about for a pen and paper, but encounter difficulty, smaller items barely registering to my Blindsight. Locating a standing pot full of blurred shapes in the kitchen, I hazard a guess that it's a pen bin and go to grab it, placing it on the counter.
Rummaging through the drawers, cutlery rattling, I find her junk drawer and pick out what feels like an envelope. Flipping it over, its back facing me, I pick out a pen from the pot and lean over, going to write, when an obvious flaw in my plan appears. An idea coming to mind, I huff and channel Chi to my fingers, infusing it into the pen and gathering it at its point, a dot of light appearing in my Detection. Pressing it down onto the paper, I draw a slight line, a smile coming to my face as the dash remains lit to my senses.
Taking a second, I organise what I want to write, then, 'Sorry for knocking you out and stealing some of your blokes clothing. I didn't take anything else, though I'm sure you'll check. As compensation for my intrusion, I healed you of the cancer I found in your stomach. My apologies if you didn't know you had it; make sure to book an appointment with your GP, okay? You're a good person, I'm sorry I had to lie to you. –'
I pause as I go to sign it, thinking better than to leave my actual name. Tracing my newly lined hands, their light carved into my senses, the pen gripped in one, I decide on a more appropriate designation,
'Kintsugi.'
The wording shines in my detection, visible even through the absence of my vision, the lines of text alight with green. Farewell written, I go back to the woman and place the note on her chest, visible for when she wakes, then start towards the entrance. A sudden thought coming to me, I step back and take a seat on the stairs, summoning Purpose from my Dantian, its form emerging and floating before me. Sharing my idea with it eagerly, I wait, watching as it vibrates slightly in thought, until it sends back an affirmation.
The warning from Stephen echoes in my mind as I prepare, an understanding of the risks involved, but it's something that I'll have to ignore if I want to be able to walk the streets of Scotland. Reaching within for the first time in months, I guide my internal magic, the blue of my spirit springing into motion, and bring it to my cracked hand. A worrying sense of sickness settles over my skin as I do, my stomach turning over itself as it rises off my digits, gathering above my palm.
I being to shape my magic into a rune, its form becoming half-real and illusory once I imbue it with my spell of choice, when I feel as the flesh of my arm begins to heat and burn. With light, wispy smoke wrapping around my limb, I prompt Purpose, my voice rushed, "Quickly!" It closes the gap instantly, pressing the rune into its blade, causing its appearance to flicker through various forms and fade slightly in response, before settling, its original look reappearing.
Jumping up, I flick my arm through the air before me, dispersing the smoke, as I run my Chi through it, cooling it and working to repair the damage. While that process is happening, I fix my gaze back on Purpose, waiting, eager to know the result. Its body, glowing in my perception, starts to shimmer, orange, glimmering dust running over it, concealing it entirely. The dust revolves, lining every inch of the sword, then disperses, revealing Purpose's new look.
It floats into my hand, handle first, the length thinner than what I'm used to, before I look deeper, using my memories as a guide, bypassing the illusion. Whipping it slightly, the air cracking, I smile at a job well done, Purpose able to perfectly imitate the white cane thanks to my enchantment. Tapping it on the floor under me, I test the sensory response, the rapping of plastic correctly sounding out. Lifting it, I twirl it slightly, its weight adjusted, then move to the front door.
Turning the handle, I step out into the overcast skies, the grey clouds obscuring the sun, and walk the path, opening the gate. Donning my sunglasses and wriggling my fingers into the gloves, I turn left and start to make my way, running the cane over the pavement, a plan forming in mind. The fact that Stephen or Wong haven't portaled to me yet is a bit of a worry, and has some implication that I need to look into, so until then, at least for the foreseeable future, I'm stuck in the UK. You know, until I figure out how to get back to American without any identification.
Could be worse, I suppose; I could've landed in France.
Shudder.
...
The everyday sounds of humanity surround me as I walk the street, the people around making way for me, my detection locked onto the malicious Chi on the other side of the road. I've been following it for a few minutes, having chosen them as my target, waiting until I sense a good location to lure them to. An approaching alley, just around a near bend, seems as good a place as any, so I pull ahead of my target and manipulate the Chi around them, drawing it in my direction.
I detect as their attention falls on me, their Chi speeding up in excitement as they begin to trail me from behind, keeping a decent amount of distance. Turning the corner, I start down the alley and speed up slightly, getting out of sight of my stalker and of any potential witnesses. A smile curls my lips as alarm takes the person, causing them rush to catch up, glancing my back as I turn out of sight, moving round the second corner. Stopping behind the wall, I put my back to it and wait, needing them to come to me.
Hearing the person, a man by the sound of their voice, curse to himself as he nears me, I rear my arm back and ready, counting down the seconds, the man almost to me. As his body starts to come into view, I strike out and clock him in the jaw, his head whipping to side with a crack, his body flopping down in a boneless manner. Once he hits the ground, his skull impacting the ground, I grab him by his legs and drag him behind the wall, starting to scour his pockets.
As the blood starts to pool under his head, I find a flip-phone in the right trouser pocket of his tracksuit and drop it, stomping down and crushing it beneath my heel, then move on. Checking his other pockets, I throw away the baggie of whatever drug he partakes in, then touch a ragged wallet. Pulling it, I slip the notes out, the amount unknown, and fold them, pocketing them and throwing the wallet up onto the roof above me. Public service done, I leave him bleeding out, his Chi fading, and follow the alley, emerging back out onto the street.
Pulling my hand from a glove, making sure to hide the cracks, I slide it into my pocket and feel for the dimensions of notes, the differing sizes indicating their worth. Fiddling with them, rubbing my fingers over them, I guess there to be around eighty pound, more than enough for the day. As I put my glove back on and move between the people with aid from my cane, happy with how things have gone so far, my heart skips as a sudden, invasive, invisible energy crawls over my skin.
Pretending not to notice, forcing myself to relax and not react, I reach out with my senses, searching the area in depth, looking for the source. Running my detection over the people around me with a strong pulse of Chi, their details sharpening slightly, I discover an oddity, an absence in the perception. A dozen meters in front of me, a little to the right, on the other side of the road, is a void; a stationary rock in the river of humans. Moving closer to it, standing opposite with the road between us, I send out a pulse of Chi through the ground, pooling it under the lack.
Gripping Purpose tight, my body ready as I enhance it, I spin the collected Chi and rise it up, scanning the border of the void. Gradually, a long pair of legs appear, inch by inch, then a mannish torso, an open jacket worn over it. Rising over the man's collar, I tense as he turns to me, his chin and lower face outlined, before ever so slowly, his blank eyes are revealed. They look to me, their expression hidden, as the Chi passes over them, a jolt passing through my spirit and my breath leaving me as a fathomless, yellow light beams at me, brighter then the sun...
The Mind Stone.
I pull back my Chi with haste, the man, Vision, his synthetic body lacking in Chi, disappearing from my awareness, the Stone remaining. I consider turning and leaving, pretending to not have noticed him, but he clearly sensed me. Whether it be by his own perception or by the power of the Mind Stone doesn't matter; I've been made regardless. With a deep sigh, I wait for a gap in cars, then cross the road and stop before him, looking up at the light of the stone, using it as a reference point.
Deciding to be open, I speak first, not giving him a chance to ask questions, my tone apologetic but annoyed, "Before you go wondering if I'm a pursuer of sorts, out to get you and the missus, know that I'm just as surprised to see you as you probably are to be recognised," a shifting, undulating red energy enters my range as I speak, closing in on us at pace, "If you could tell the Witch not to kill me, that would be much appreciated."
I don't detect any movement from Vision, but I can feel his gaze on me as he replies, his high-class accent standing out against my more common one, "...Right." Turning away from him, I look towards the approaching Scarlet Witch, her red-eyed spirit looking back at me, power crackling under skin. As I go to pull Purpose to me just in case, a sudden tiredness grips my spirit, my time in this modern world catching up to me. Letting the tip of Purpose rest on the ground, a message of understanding communicated from it, I close my eyes and relax...
I really don't want to fight.