It was about a single decade after the First World Civil War, when the governments fought desperately to hold law and order against the quirked uprising of anarchist and evildoers.
This is a time of relative peace, one where compassion and kindness shines the brightest amid the ache of fading scars.
As quirks become more commonplace, people began to slowly accept their absurd existence and adapt to the shifting times as society changes to accommodate the individually unique.
Wearing a purple dress with red embroidery and a white mob hat, Maribel Hearn is a curious student at Kyoto University. She majors in relative psychology which isn't all that weird but people couldn't help but notice that something was off about the air around her.
And while the acceptance of people with quirks is still something that is growing, the dissent, however, is still very much present.
Coupled with the strange air around her, this caused Maribel to garner the enmity of those that had losses during the war. It wasn't just racism but also a form of elitist mentality derived from how the mundane humans perceived themselves as more 'pure' than the quirked.
However, this did not stop Maribel from living out her life the way she wanted to.
With her power to see the divide between complete wholes, along with a passion and curiousity for the paranormal, Maribel delved deeper into the abyss that the mundanes don't even know existed as believes subjectivity to be more true than objectivity.
Together with her friend, Renko Usami, she also has an interest in what would be considered the paranormal, was what lead to their decision to create a club that unfortunately consisted of only the two of them, describes itself as a club of necromancers.
They however, they don't do many of the things necromancers would normally be associated with. Instead, they investigate the possibility of other worlds and such, primarily with the help of Maribel's own power.
The two of them dug up quite a few things and derived their own thoughts from folklores and myths and tall tales and such. They've even tallied a few that they have a particular fondness for. Specifically, they're particularly interested in Gensokyo, the Netherworld, and the Moon, making the two to be among the parsley sum, or even the only humans from the outside world who know of Gensokyo's existence.
Maribel has visited Gensokyo in her dreams, as well as the world of the gods during her waking hours. She also has the ability to bring others along with her into her dreams of other worlds under certain conditions, and show them these visions by covering their eyes with her hands.
Unfortunately, her adventures has gathered the attention of a certain beings who didn't take too kindly to being disturbed. Even more unfortunate was that these particular beings have the cosmic equivalent attention span of a goldfish.
The girl was plucked from where she was and placed in a prison of nothingness. Not tortured or abused, simply shoved into a void and neglected for an undisclosed amount of time, slowly being suffused with her environment.
After feeling the gaze shift away for quite a while, Maribel, thinking he being that out her there in the first place has presumably already forgot about her, used her powers to poke and prod at the divide between 'nothing' and 'something' to escape.
She succeeded eventually.
Unfortunately, she stumbled her way into the realm of eternal night. It was her where she wandered around, looking to see if she can find a other divide between realms but as the old saying goes: Fortune doesn't arrive in pairs and misfortune never comes alone.
Maribel was captured by human slavers and sold to the markets where she was bought and traded as an unusual commodity due to the how the 'nothing' was so intertwined into her being.
An idle curiosity, an interesting specimen, an intriguing piece of nature. Maribel was passed along, owner to owner much better than most.
Due to her unique existence, she wasn't mistreated or eaten alive by the pieces however this didn't stop the fact that she was still a product sold. Less as a slave and more as a showpiece, eye candy even.
The girl was not content with her situation and attempted to escape multiple times, even the occasional successful attempts before she was promptly recaptured. She might have failed repeatedly but her newfound rebellious nature kept pushing her to the brink of freedom, inching ever so closer to her goal.
Even so, at a certain point of time, history repeats itself. Maribel was sold again and this time it was to an owner with an inquisitive mind, one that saw the girl not as decoration or food, but as material component.
The man was unnaturally tall and incredibly thin, and yet, he was also so mundanely plain it was as if he was a part of the background mob even as he stood above their heads. An average, boring person would have more individuality than he does.
She was dragged into a room in chains and seals that suppressed both her powers where she would be confined for the foreseeable future. Away from the light of dawn and any indication of outside changes, Maribel could not even rely on the meals she received to count the time as her body no longer functions like a normal human being.
The poor girl was quite literally confined in seals twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
The only break in her routine of staring off into space was the sparse screaming voices that somehow made its way through the walls of her confinement, and the occasional visit from the plain man.
His visits were short, concise and efficient, never staying for a second more or a second less. They were painful and scary for the first few times but the monotony of it all meant she simply got used to it after a certain point of time. The plain man would draw her blood, carve off some flesh, make her drink a potion and then leave.
The rebelliousness that grew inside her died a slow, painful death and in it's place came a hollow feeling.
Maribel couldn't decide if her thoughts slowing down to grinding halt was because of the potion she was forced to drink, the monotonous routine that never changed or the boredom. She knew that lack of stimulation negatively affects a person's mind and her situation had already weakened her psyche to begin with.
Honestly, she doesn't even know how long she spent here. But, her hopes were long dashed. In her mind, any chances of reconnecting and returning back to her old life were zilch.
She might not know how long she spent in the realm of nothingness, but she managed to piece together that she's been a commodity for at least a few years, let alone now that she spent who knows how long confined here.
Maribel had no choice but feel the dredges of her own sanity slip through her own fingers as time grudgingly crawled by her.
Idly, she wondered if she can dream again for once.
~~~
Schizoid Personality Disorder is characterized by a persistent lack of interest in social relationships, emotional detachment, and a preference for solitary activities. Individuals with this condition often appear cold or indifferent, have limited emotional expression, and may have few or no close friends. They are also attributed to stoicism, being outwardly indifferent to both praise and criticism.
*•!°•&+*•#°*∆ו° was described as being afflicted as such.
However, if one were to ask me about my opinion about being diagnosed with it, I'll just answer the same thing as I usually answer with: "What's the point?"
The world's pretty much explored, interstellar travel is pretty much still a dream and anything grand that can be done needs a lot of money. Even things that can be made is already invented and the things that haven't are for geniuses to uncover.
I'm neither rich nor smart, strong nor charismatic. Even when I put in the effort to stand out, someone more outstanding always took the credit.
I was born in a normal middle-class household, raised by normal parents with a normal childhood and went to a normal school, got a normal job with normal hobbies and even lived in a normal apartment.
I'm just another guy, another cog in the machinations of society. Another average Joe...
So.
Painfully.
Average.
I envy those with more talent than me. I envy those that had more motivation to live. I envy those born in better circumstances and those in lesser fates to overcome. I envy those who found their calling and those that found their purpose. I envy those who dared to dream and hope and I envy those who have nothing left to lose. I envy the shining figures of those myths and legends. I envy those who stood on the shoulders of giants and claimed a higher sky. I envy those risked it all for just a glimpse of a goal and won. I envy the protagonist in stories who lived to the fullest and I envy the antagonists who strode with confidence.
I envy those who had individuality, something that they can proudly claim to be themselves and look in the mirror with a smile.
Envy bubbled and rose to heated anger. The blazing wrath simmered and mellowed to desperate begging screams. A hoarse beg quieted to reluctant acceptance. And finally, a resigned acceptance softened to jaded apathy.
That was all there was to it.
Maybe I was tired of it all or perhaps I was simply bored of living my life of aimlessly, but when the fire alarms sounded off in the apartment building, I closed my windows shut and locked my door.
Standing in place in the middle of my apartment, I took stock of my room as panicked footsteps stampeded beyond my walls.
I was mad at the person who flicked the cigarette that lit the trash, if it wasn't for them then none of this would have happened... However, I also felt guilty for doing nothing when acting in that situation was something I could have done such as smothering the flames when it was still small or simply telling off the one who smoked in the area.
I could have done something to prevent the fire, but I just couldn't find it within myself to care.
After all, there really was no point.
In the end, I'm just another number to the statistics.
Even as the enduring blaze fought against the firefighters and greedily devoured the building, I kept myself quiet until the flames licked my skin. And then, there was pain.
The fire seared my flesh and began cooking me thoroughly. Despite my screams and flailing, I made no effort to escape, the pain I experienced was my rightful judgement.
Even as I was plunged into darkness from my eyes drying out, even as I felt my blood rupturing more vessels from trying to forcefully circulate within my dying body, even as I curled from my muscles losing too much moisture to flex and bend-
All of it was something I deserved, something I accepted.
Eventually, the sound of softly rustling water entered my ears, along with the faint rumbling of thunder and lightning.
I felt a mellow sense of comfort as I gently bobbed on the waters. The ripples on the surface creating a unique symphony of touch upon my skin.
Slowly, the ebb and flow carried me by its currents.
Overhead, I can a stationary storm. It looked within arms reach, yet it appears distant.
The skies of darkest yawning black that sleeps, a distortion came that broke apart the void and orbs of red that threatened retribution appeared on it's place.
Still, there is no earthy land beyond the horizon.
Nor is there shimmering light that blinds my eyes.
Or rather, It was until an intrusive hand shoved glitter into my mouth. I did not feel or sense its forthcoming. It was as if it appeared into existence or was already there from the very beginning and I overlooked it.
But it wasn't the mystery that took my attention, it was the sensation on my tongue. It wasn't anything I tasted before, it was a new experience.
The flavour of Red.
With Red came along a purpose, a quest, a drive to move onwards. To what, when or where is not in my mind, only to keep going, to keep moving.
And so I sank.
The air in my lungs have left my body, forming distinct bubbles outlined in white, as I watched them escape my lips and unto the surface, the shine of the red orbs piercing through the veil of liquid.
Deeper, I sank.
And yet, what was supposed to be a harrowing experience of drowning a watery demise as I suffocate, I felt calm. A calming relief of knowing... What exactly?
Even deeper, I sank.
Yet oddly enough, I feel warm.
And even more odd, is that I see a purple halo, the coloured light outlining my own body. Morphing, changing, adapting.
As I sank, I felt something caress my cheek.