Akimikoisthecutest

I have no idea why my brain decided that I needed to do that

Kind of. It's block schedule week (normally we have 45 minute classes and all 8 of them every day, but when we have some finals going on, we do 90 minute classes and 4 of them the first day, and 3 the second. We often do them thursday-friday so that we skip 8th) We do have some tests but not many

Alright, lets try this again. Pick your top 2 favorites out of these.

Ours still hasn't ended lol. We still have one more week to go

It really is! We are doing sex Ed right now :( Though I have been sleeping through most of class. My state at least lets us learn about birth control, but we can't learn about gay people, and our teacher can't talk about people having sex before marriage or people never getting married. Is that today?!! It really does We all knew this would happen lolz Me too :( True. It even happened to me. I came in here questioning but now... lolz Same in my state!!! Health is only a semester class for us, so we are just finishing health. lucky us

Stupid storming [REDACTED] lawmakers

Real

Oh I feel that :(

True

My deadname is pretty bad too. Me too... WOOHOOOO Aww, you deserve whatever pronouns you want I get that too, but you just have to be selfish sometimes :p

They speak of the Shards as gods. Distant, powerful, inevitable forces. But they forget the truth: each was once a person. A mortal with hands, a face, and a heart that beats with fear. Torshi ran down the wet pavement. Today, it was cold and raining in Edöl, the capital city of Altaakanûl. This was not normal. Altaakanûl was a world of three suns and perpetual, warm daylight. Its people, the Kanûlians, were a sun-worshipping culture whose very essence—their Identity—was tied to light and warmth. Rain was a novelty, a curiosity in the high mountains. A cold, persistent rain in the low-lying capital was a near impossibility, a climatic anomaly that defied the natural order of their world. Yet, here it was. Torshi dodged a sputtering cart, its driver cursing as the metal wheels skidded on the unfamiliar, slick stone. People huddled under awnings, their vibrant, sun-reflecting clothing muted by the heavy, grey sky. The air, usually crisp and warm, clung with a damp chill that seeped into her bones. More importantly, the rain muted the city's hum. Edöl was usually a vibrant, noisy place, powered by the thousands of Luminaries moving through its streets, their conviction and channeled Investiture radiating a low, constant vibration of being. Today, the city felt dead. "They're all hiding," she muttered, pulling her thin cloak tighter around herself. "Afraid the sun will forget them if they step out in the wet." The lack of sunlight didn't just dampen spirits; it seemed to leach the very conviction from the air. For a street performer like Torshi, a Mimic still finding her footing in the tiers of power, this was a disaster. She could feel the familiar 'well' of Investiture within her spiritweb, but accessing it required an effort, a deeper, almost painful focus to adopt even simple roles. The world felt muted, sluggish. She cut sharply into a narrow alley, the rain momentarily lessening under the overhanging second stories. Her destination was the Obelisk, the great, towering crystalline structure at the city's heart, where the Priesthood supposedly communed with the Ascended Sun—the Shard that governed this world. The Priesthood had declared the rain a "trial of faith," but Torshi, pragmatic to a fault, smelled a lie. This was not natural weather. This was something wrong. A deliberate blockage. As she reached the end of the alley, she had to stop. The main street leading to the Obelisk plaza was a river, and a small group of the Priesthood's guards, their golden armor tarnished by the moisture, were blocking the way, their spears crossed. "The plaza is closed to all save the initiated," one of the guards said, his voice clipped. Torshi looked at the sullen, wet crowd gathering at the makeshift barrier. A desperate energy was building. The sun was their life; the magic, their industry. Without it, the city would grind to a halt. Famine would follow. Chaos. She shifted her weight, testing her connection to her roles. The Athlete? Her conviction was too low; the cold sapped her will to embody 'peak physicality'. The Diplomat? She was too typecast as a cynical street rat. She settled on something simpler, something she knew well: the archetype of the Shadow. "It's a strange trial," she called out, her voice cutting through the growing murmur. "The Sun Ascended values action, does it not? Not hiding behind golden spears." The guard tensed, his helmet turning towards her. "The will of the Ascended is made known through the Priesthood." "Or perhaps through a lack of sun," Torshi countered, stepping into the open. She didn't wait for a reply. She began her performance, not with grand gestures, but with the quiet conviction of absence. Internally, she focused on making herself forgettable, channeling the Identity of an insignificant passerby, a smudge in the crowd. She lowered her head, pulling her face into a neutral expression. She performed the Shadow. The conviction flickered, weak in the oppressive damp, but present. Cognitive Cloak. She slipped through the edge of the crowd while their attention was fixed on the shouting guard. The magic didn't make her invisible; it made her unremarkable. The guards’ eyes slid over her. The crowd parted slightly without noticing her passing. The guards shouted, pointing their spears, but not at her. They were yelling at the spot where she had been standing seconds before. Torshi was already moving, scrambling over a low awning. She felt the eyes of the city fail to register her, and for a moment, the heavy air seemed to lift. This was a chase now, a familiar rhythm. She was an anomaly in the perfect system of Altaakanûl, just like the rain. And she was going to find out why her world was breaking. The truth, she suspected, was much colder than the rain. Torshi scrambled over the slick rooftops, the sound of the guards' shouts fading behind her as she vaulted over a gap between two buildings. She landed hard, the damp tiles offering poor grip. The momentum sent a jarring pain up her leg, a testament to how tenuous her current performance of the Shadow was. Usually, with strong conviction, the role's subtle physical benefits would make her movement fluid; today, it felt like she was pulling every ounce of power from her own bone and muscle. They're slow in this weather, she realized, a small, grim sense of triumph flaring in her chest. The Priesthood were powerful Performers, but they were used to a world where conviction was an easily accessible ocean of shared belief. When the shared Identity of a 'sunny world' ran dry, they were just men in heavy, ceremonial armor. She reached the edge of the residential section, looking down into the sprawling expanse of the Plaza of the Three Suns. The square was vast, paved with polished mirrors designed to focus and reflect sunlight onto the Great Obelisk at its center. Today, the mirrors were dark, covered in a sheen of rainwater, reflecting only the oppressive grey sky above. The Obelisk itself—a hundred-story spire of crystalline white rock—usually blazed with captured solar energy, a beacon of light visible for miles. Now, it stood as a monument to absence, its surface dull and lifeless. A figure stood near the base of the Obelisk, surprisingly alone, staring up at the spire. They wore robes of a deep, midnight blue that seemed to drink the light, a stark contrast to the Priesthood's traditional brilliant gold and white. A chase was one thing; confronting a mysterious figure at the center of the world's anomaly was another. Torshi hesitated, focusing her belief to slightly anchor her wet hands to the stone roof tiles, her Cognitive Cloak barely holding her in the 'unseen' role against the wind that had begun to pick up. The figure turned their head slowly, as if sensing her presence despite the downpour and distance. Even from this height, Torshi could feel an aura of stillness around them, a chilling lack of the familiar vibrance that every living Performer on Altaakanûl usually possessed. They raised a hand, and with a gesture, the rain above the plaza stopped. Not slowed, not paused. It simply cut out, a perfect, invisible dome of dryness over the immediate area, the rain continuing to pour everywhere else around it. Torshi gasped, a cold knot forming in her stomach. That wasn't Ascensionism. That was something else entirely. A deliberate, controlled manipulation of the physical world that didn't rely on role-playing or shared belief. It felt foreign, alien. The figure gestured again, a simple twist of their fingers in the air. A small, dark shard of metal, no bigger than a coin, flew from the ground near the Obelisk and embedded itself into the massive crystal structure with a faint tink. A ripple went through the Obelisk. It didn't light up; it seemed to darken, the crystalline structure turning a deep, void-like black from the point of contact, as if the light were being actively devoured. The oppressive cold deepened instantly, spreading across the plaza. The figure looked right at her, even though she was half a mile away. There was no way they could see her face. They didn't wave, didn't make another grand gesture. They simply turned and began to walk away, towards the massive, ornamental gates on the far side of the plaza that led to the sea cliffs. Torshi was frozen, the fear momentarily overriding her drive. She had been right. This wasn't a weather anomaly or a trial of faith. It was an attack. The world wasn't just breaking down; it was being actively unmade, its light stolen by this silent figure. She had sought the truth, and now she had it. The question was no longer why the world was cold and wet, but how she was going to stop this.

‘BEEP BEEP BEEP’ I rub my eyes and look at the room around me. The curtains are closed which creates a dim glow eminating from the window. As I sit up I look at my calendar. It was August 11th. Tuesday. Wait, Tuesday? The 11th? It was not just a normal Tuesday. It was the Tuesday. The Tuesday I had been waiting for my whole life! The entire point of my existence! The sole thing to keep me going through my long and arduous days. Today I was going to Aldwyns! I leap out of bed and run to the window and throw open the curtains. It was a bright and sunny day. Today I was going to start a new life. Finally after waiting 15 long years for this I can finally do my family proud. Would I be stuck with the dumb kids? Or would they find that I don’t actually have magic? Would I have to work too hard? What the heck. I should be fine. Don’t worry. Nobody is going to die. It’s just high school. With magic. And teachers that could kill me with a look. And murderous gargoyles. And possible humiliation. What if I don’t have magic. That would ruin my reputation. NO! Stop. You will be fine.’ I hurry and run out to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. I wave my hand over the shower faucet, and the water turns on. I quickly shower and get dressed in the school robes they sent me, all the way back in May… “Dad! Stop it. I’m old enough to send the letter by myself! I don’t need you to always tag along,” I complain. “Alright, alright. I just want to be there for my favorite daughter’s special day,” he persists. My older sister gasps, “What does that make me?” “Don’t ask me! I have no clue,” my Dad responds. “How do you not know? You’re the one who said it,” she says exasperatedly “Bold of you to assume that I understand what comes out of my mouth.” “You’re not that old,” my sister says. “Guys! Just get in the car!” I yell. About a month later, a letter appeared in our mailbox. It had a red wax stamp on it with a dragon on it. “Yes!” I exclaim as I leap into the air. “They responded!” I cautiously lift the edge of the letter’s seal flap and peek inside. Of course I can’t see anything at all. I carefully pull the envelope open, and peer at the letter inside. Accepted! I made it into the most prestigious magic academy! Inside the letter they have a list of the things I need. And a red robe, showing that I didn’t have my specific type of magic yet. I wonder what type of magic I’ll have. Hold up, what kinds of magic are there? Frankly, I’m not even sure! I guess I’ll find out. As I get out of the car, I spot the orientation group. It’s a small group. As I walk up, the chaperone taps her foot impatiently. “You’re five minutes late.”, she croaks. “I’m sorry, traffic was terrible.”, I apologise. “We do not accept excuses here. We are on time, or we don’t survive for very long here,” she says in a commanding tone. “Now that we are all here, let me take the role,” she says as she gives me a death glare. “Noah Pkos.” A kid with dark hair and bone white skin raises his hand. “Shallon Devort.” A rich looking girl stands up. “Here, also this place is a mess. You really should-”, she trails off as she gets a death glare. I thought those were reserved for me. “Markos Thsps.” An insectoid raises his hand. “Joyce Terka” A confident looking theatre kid shot her hand up like a rocket. “Avery Quinn” A shy looking girl raises her hand tentatively. “Kallon Venice” A young elf raises his hand. “Nova Arden.” I look up at our chaperone. “That’s me.” She gives me another death glare. As we walk in the front gates, our chaperone talks about the history of Aldwyns. “Aldwyns was founded in 1555 about 550 years ago. This is the original campus building with a few new buildings. We have also only stabilized the structure and not changed any of the architecture.” She begins to go on and on and on about the architecture and the founders, and I begin to daydream. When I decide to pay attention, we are in a small hallway surrounded by doors. “Now dorm rooms.”

The power was a scream—not a sound, but a powerful force in the Spiritual Realm that violently bled into the Cognitive and Physical Realms. It had no name or purpose because its Vessel had been killed right after the Shattering of Adonalsium, during the first conflicts between the new gods. Its raw power had been left untouched for thousands of years, a wild and untamed force. Aris, a scholar of Realmic theory, had spent her life studying this power. She knew that an untended Shard was like a ticking time bomb. It was a force without direction that could warp reality just by existing. The power had already begun to cause strange events: areas where gravity was reversed, moments where time went backward, and bright islands of color that hurt the eyes. She stood at the edge of the power’s physical form, a swirling storm of energy on a long-dead world. The raw power pulsed like a dying heart, feeling lonely and dangerous. "It needs direction," Aris whispered, pulling her simple robes tighter. She didn't want to be a god, but she had a goal: she believed the universe needed order, a guiding hand to stop the other gods from destroying everything with their petty wars. Aris had no natural link to this power. She had no grand destiny pushing her forward like the first Vessels. All she had was her strong will and a lifetime of research into how to create a spiritual link. She took a small, steel cube from her satchel. The cube hummed with energy she had collected over decades. It was an anchor, a tool to connect her mortal spirit to the screaming, infinite power. Aris stepped into the storm. The moment she entered, her mind was hit with a thousand sensations at once. It was like living a million years in a single second. Raw knowledge slammed into her: the birth of stars, the silent cries of dead worlds, and the details of countless magic systems she had only dreamed of. The power tore at her soul, demanding that she act without thought or consequence. Create! Destroy! Build! End! the power screamed, throwing chaotic purposes at her mind, searching for a weak point. Aris held on, focusing on the steel cube and her single goal: to Transcend. "No," she pushed back. Her mortal voice was lost in the storm, but her will became a sudden, unmoving wall. "We will not be a chaotic force. We will bring order. We will bring Transcendence." She forced the cube’s connection into the center of the power. The power fought back, its scream growing louder. Aris felt her skin tear and her bones groan under the pressure of holding infinity. Her blood boiled, turning to mist as the power consumed her physical body. She held tight to her one word, her one purpose: Transcend. The chaos began to calm. The riot of colors faded, and the storm of energy focused, shaped by the unyielding will of the person who refused to be just a Vessel, but a master of her own destiny. The raw power did not consume her; she consumed it, giving it a purpose it had never known. With a final, silent flash, the storm vanished. The energy folded in on itself, drawn into the core of the newly Ascended being. Aris was gone. In her place stood a new force in the Cosmere, a being of structure and purpose, holding a new Intention that gave her clarity instead of warping her mind. She had taken the power. She had Ascended.

Me too! Though I'm also ace! I only have one... And one of them doesn't really even talk at all...

7/10 I love the blog and the updated version of the first ideal!

I'm half way through it right now! Do we find out?

Yeah, but I'm with a ton of people I'm not out to +@Choirnull

So, I just came out to @Choirnull's partner... They support ofc, but now they're struggling with pronouns

Backspace button

How many does your school have? We only have one. I've had a chair thrown at me and I've thrown one at someone who's transphobic :(

Maybe like 3-4. Not usually at lunch though. Usually we're all too busy in our own little worlds. (Mine is usually on here)

Good I guess. There was a fistfight at lunch, so that was interesting. I thought it was really empty in the lunch room, but then I saw all the people outside in a ring, so that was kind of interesting.

Hi everyone! It's been a while since I posted in here so I thought I'd open this up. I'm not really sure if this already exists, but here we go! My personal theory is that they were created by the splintering of Honor! What do you all think?

@Keke, here are some of my tips: First, solve your disputes face to face. You have to be kind of blunt with each other. Second, confidence is key. Third, don't roll your shoulders back, unless you have a rep for being preppy. And finally, you have to be mentally strong. You often have to deal with jerks, or at least I do, and you can't let them see you get emotional. I know this sounds stereotypical, but instead of breaking down in front of them, break down in the bathroom.

That sounds fun!