JrVader

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

MATSURU YAOYOROZU

"Dreams
Fleeting vestiges
Futile delusions from the eyes of gods eternal"

'Was I dreaming?
No, I'm sinking...
Floating?'

Matsuru felt incorporeal. His mind was hazy, like a fog overtaking a mountain village. In a strange sense he felt at peace. He was dying. Or dead. Or both? Nothing seemed to matter to him. And for once, the Observant Hero's mind fell silent amidst the lapping waves of blissful slumber.

... Wait, waves?

He awoke in a jolt, gasping for breath as if he was submerged underwater. When his head broke the surface of the ocean, all he could see was paradise. A beach on an abandoned island, ripe with life. He struggled to get onto shore. When he did he collapsed onto the sandy beach, turning onto his back and catching his breath. After a few minutes, he chuckled. He didn't know what was funny, it all just seemed so strange. Stranger, though, was the fact that he couldn't use any of his quirks. Not only the quirks he copied, but his Judgement Gaze as well did not want to work. "Strange." he muddled to himself. He walked over to a tree and leaned on its trunk. Feeling the brush of the wind on his face and the sway of the coconuts above filled him with an idyllic comfort. Like all the woes and worries of the battle were being washed away by the gentle rhythm of mother nature...

'The battle?
What battle?
Wait... I was fighting-
KEYARU!'

Matsuru practically jumped when the realization of everything that happened came back to him. He was at the cafe, he fought Slap, and... Keyaru came... What happened after? He looked down to his hands and legs, feeling something eerie. "Why does this feel... wrong." A quick glance around didn't reveal anything unordinary.

After he recollected, Matsuru summarized all that has happened. "I died... Or at least I think I did. My arm and leg shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here... But where exactly is here?" He was at a loss. He doesn't know where he is, how he got here, or what happened after he lost consciousness. "Only thing I can do is wait, I guess." Matsuru looked back to the tree he was leaning on minutes ago, as if expecting it too answer all his questions. "No chance you're a wise, mystical tree?" His half-given attempt at humor didn't illicit any laughter from the plants, but it sure did make him feel a little better.

"Darling, overcome your fear this time."

A whisper, so soft it could be mistaken for the sea foam, whisp'd over Matsuru. In a fraction of an instant, his senses sharpened. He looked back out to the ocean, now becoming more and more turbulent. Waves the size of a man started for form and crash into the sand. "Ri-?" He was cut off. A child's chuckle interrupted him. Started, he looked back. There were... three kids? 'No, that couldn't be.' Matsuru thought to himself, 'I would've known if there were other people here...' He slowly approached the three children. They were... playing with some toys on the beach. They seemed completely enthralled in their activities, so much so they didn't react to Matsuru as he got closer.

One kid had rime-frost blue hair, her eyes sparkled like snowflakes. One boy had curly auburn hair, and held an aura of mischievousness to him. And the other boy had lighter blue hair, with a twinkle of perfection in everything he did. Matsuru knew these kids... Wait he knew exactly what was happening. It was years ago, when he was little. His childhood friends came over that day to play with Matsuru. It was the first time they ever went to his house... He looked back on those memories very fondly. But memories don't sprout out of your brain and take shape in front of you.

"... Fuck me, I know where I am."

It was like in the old books Matsuru used to read. A detective, stumped in his investigation, gets a "Eurika!" moment. This was his mindscape... It was Harpy's quirk! Practically forgetting about the vision in front of him, he started cackling like a madman. "Snow Resplendence!! Matsuru, you idiot, how could you not think of that!" He yells in pity and excitement. He wasn't dead. He can still fight! He can still-

"If you go out there, you might die again?" A voice spoke up behind him. He turned back around to see the kid with blue hair speaking to him. The kid's eyes began to glow purple.

Matsuru chuckled a little and knelt down to get to his younger self's height. "I know."
"Your body subconsciously copied Clap's regenerative quirk, Yusuke probably had something to do with it."
"I know this."
"But even so, It won't be enough to save you again. If you go and fight again, you may truly die."
"I know, mini me. But even so, I have to go out."

A large wave formed in the horizon. It was tens of feet tall, practically a tsunami. Neither Matsuru or his younger self gave it any thought. The little one spoke up again. "Even though dad tortured us to become a hero... you still do it? Wouldn't that make you wanna stop helping?"

Matsuru gave it some thought. He could feel the direction of the wind changing. "It almost did. He melded me into his ideal image so well that I forgot what identity was."
"Than why do you still go out and fight?"
The wave was seconds from hitting the shore. But that question resonated strongly in Matsuru's mind. Why does he still go out to fight? The answer was simple, really.
"If you ever saw the Class, I'm sure you'd want to save them as well."
The wave engulfed the entire island, dragging everything into the murky depths

~~~

Matsuru practically bounded off the floor. Even though it was all in a fraction of a second, his Judgement Gaze allowed him to see everything. There was a meteor above, and Keyaru below. The other students were either fighting the monster of man or attempting to delay the meteor. His body move instinctually. He activated Rin's Quirk, Ice Manipulation. He willed a snowstorm to encompass the entire meteor. If he can have the ice infiltrate the cracks within the rock, the other student's will have an easier time breaking it apart. "Weaken the structure, and blow it apart." He mumbled to himself

The sky above him was frigid. Compared to the heat coming off the ground battle, Matsuru left the sky above a freezing temperature. Even now his muscles were screaming in exhaustion. But he knew he had to keep going. Forcing his Regeneration into overdrive to heal his body, He began plummoting back to the ground.

"Look to the sky, Hero's!" Matsuru yelled out. "Keyaru's meteor is weak, and he is beginning to waver! Victory is close at hand!! Do not waver now, keep pushing!"

He remembers in fantasy novels that the hero will sometimes give a rally cry in the midst of a battle to bolster his soldiers. Matsuru, by no means, thinks himself the protagonist. But, in truth, it felt right in the moment. Surely he'll look back on this moment and cringe.

If they all make it out alive.

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

MATSURU YAOYOROZU

"This is it... We're dead..."
"This is where I die..."
"Keyaru... Dad... How does he know-"

He was here. Standing in front of him. That same sickening power, that sinister glare, that gaunt born of pure malice. Keyaru was here. Was this his dance macabre?

Matsuru thought he would be ready for their next encounter. He trained like there was no tomorrow. The voice of Matsuru's sickening father practically willed the young hero forward. There were days he would snap bones back in place to continue training. There were others Rin had to force Matsuru to stop training, Usually through ahem dubious methods.

But now, Matsuru realizes how futile all that training was. A fanciful tale born from the mind of a vindictive young man. There was no beating this man. There was no beating his eight bullets. He thinks he could hear Haru and Kanako yelling obscenities at Keyaru and his new companion.

"Don't... You'll die as well. Run. Just run. Run and don't look back."

He can't stand, he can't even activate his Judgement Gaze. His throat feels caked, he chokes on his own breath.

"Am I drowning? No... That's just my blood. My blood?"

It was all around him. Doused in his cloths, pooled on the floor around him, coming from his left arm... Wait, his arm?

"Wait... isn't there supposed to be a hand ther-"
He looked down, and only saw bone, sinew, and loose flesh hanging from below his left elbow.

Matsuru screamed. He yelled death, but nothing came out. His own blood pooling out of his mouth like a fountain. What was meant to be a shrill of terror came out as a pitiful whimper. He couldn't stand, he didn't know why. Was his leg blown off as well? Did he still have legs? He doesn't know.

All Matsuru could focus on was Keyaru. The man who he almost captured a few months back, the one that caused all of this. Matsuru didn't feel malice, nor anger, nor spite, nor hatred. There was only one thing he felt in that moment.

Fear

He was going to die. He could feel it. He wanted to yell at the others to run, but he couldn't even form the words in his mind. All that Matsuru Yaoyorozu, the Observant Hero Sherlock, could do was crawl towards Keyaru. He didn't get far, a stream of red followed him like a brush of paint on a canvas. His mind was gone, his vision blurred. All that was in his world right now was Keyaru and him.

A small brush of hold pricked his right hand. From the ground, he could see a brilliant flash of white hair in the distance.

"Rin?"
"Please, Rin."
"Help them."
"I'm sorry."

The last thing Matsuru saw before delving into unconsciousness were those wicked yellow eyes peering into him like a serpent.

Fenix Tear [Invite | Ask Only]

IFRIT

The office space was comfortable, in a very “controlled chaos” sense. The spacious office looked like a room you’d find in Howl’s Moving Castle. Any and all wallspace was occupied by shelves filled with random trinkets, artifacts, and doodad’s. A small array of bookshelves filled one of the corners, alongside a comfortable sofa and nightstand. Tomes, scrolls, maps, and everything in between filled the bookshelves. There were two desks in this secluded office. One was more neat and organized than the other. The former had a small stack of books piled on the left hand side. Minus an unopened letter and a couple photos, nothing else of note was on that desk.
The other desk was completely different. Almost all of the deskspace was occupied. A pile of unopened letters bearing seals and crests from foreign dignitaries. A series of unfinished letters intended for a plethora of organizations and groups across Pengarde lay lazily scattered. And most noticeable of all, a stack of papers so high it reaches the height of a standing person. It’s on this desk that Ifrit had his head in his hands, groaning in frustration.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck Zeire… WhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!” He draws his words out. On the main portion of his desk was a formal complaint from one of the local businesses. Something about one of Zeire’s “pranks” getting this business involuntarily involved. And, of course, any and all actions done by the guild members always finds its way back to Ifrit. To that gargantuan pile. The pile of paperwork that he can never seem to put a dent in.
“How many of these fuhyuckin papers are gonna be about you?!? I swear, if I ever see you so much as check out a book you’re not supposed to have YOUR ASS IS GRASS!!” He yells out. He knows no one will hear him. His office is tucked deep away in the Rosetta Library. With how expansive and moving the library is, finding it would be difficult. Luckily for Ifrit, its nothing a two-way linkstone doesn’t fix.
He finishes up a few more pieces of paperwork before calling it a day. He really doesn’t want to call it quits, but he remembers something Azu told him once. Something along the lines of “keep working that hard and you’ll go bald.” “Yeah… and I’ll bet you’re the reason I lose my hair.” He chuckles to himself. Leaning back on his chair, he can’t help but frown in worry.

Admittedly, he’s been on edge these past few days. Not like he usually is, no. This was different. He’s found his body tense, like he’s anticipating an attack. Whenever he enters a room, he almost instinctively looks around to plan an escape route. He’s even been using his *Temporal Eyes* to examine the flow of time around certain people. These are things he never used to do, but after those damn nightmares… Well, he can’t help it.
After lamenting on his pitiful state, he stands from his desk and moves to his book corner. There, a few things lay on the sofa. A satchel, a motley of magical items, maps, spare books, anything he’d need for an ‘extended excursion’. In official guild bookkeeping terms, Ifrit uses these words to denote he’s gonna be gone for “an extended amount of time”. Unofficially, this is whenever he needs to go on a more under-the-wraps kind of mission.
Once he’s done packing everything, he goes to his bookshelf and grabs a few items. A map of Iceberg, a few tomes on the region’s history and customs, and a grimoire of local fauna and flora. His mind wanders to a few days ago, back to when he was assigned this mission…

**AFTER THE COUNCIL MEETING** (Segment done with@Urizen)

With the end of the Joint Council Meeting, Ifrit was groaning out of annoyance. Of course, the meeting itself was important. With such important figures and representatives coming together to discuss the future of Pengarde, it’s no doubt that a delegation from Fénix Tear would be in attendance. The reason Ifrit was groaning was twofold.

1: These meeting usually meant more paperwork, as if he didn’t have enough to do already
2: Azuria was sleeping through the entire thing.

“Fucking hell, Azu. When’re you gonna start at least pretending to be interested in these meetings?” He asked Azu. They were both leaving the main hall right now
Azuria sighed at the sight of Ifrit's obliviousness. Like a father like a child, they just share such overlooking archetypes being two sides of the same coin. She digressed. "I didn't ask you to lodge paperworks on the Lacrismart yet but who am I to stop you." Azuria reunited with her Thought Projection, who was listening through the meeting discreetly in a remote room. The whole room's landscape changed at its spatial course, uniting both rooms as Ifrit was in a separate room with the sleeping Azu while Reuel and Eris were with the thought projection. "While you're at it, I was having another meeting, a quick one."
He has a long, drawn out sigh. “So lazy, yet so resourceful…” he chuckles a bit. “Care filling me in?”
Azuria knew that while she can summon thought projections, its realistic frame per response wasn't consistent. Maintaining a Thought Projection as it's an advanced spell was already taxing to begin with. How much more two, for one the original Azuria was asleep and woken in the presence of Reuel and Eris. Secondly, the other was in a remote room, doing something about the Phoenix Stone and the other in another remote room, listening to the meeting.
"Alright, I will. Reuel and Eris have KKK matters to attend to in due time. Our goodman right here will be their executioner while our fair lady here will be their judge of Chancellor Elektra's dealings as treacherous as it sounds."
“Sounds like some high profile missions. Think they can handle it?” Ifrit asked. It’s more of a rhetorical question. Of course they could handle it. But after those nightmares… let’s just say Ifrit’s been on guard more than normal. He even swears he can feel his eye twitch every now and then. His mind wandered back to the home guild for a moment. “By the way, Azu. Were we expecting any official correspondence from the White Creed?” He recently received a letter from them… which is weird, because he never gets as much as an advert from them.
"And you say I don't pay attention, not high profile, these are espionage and assassination matters." Azu responded. She was puzzled, as both her and Ifrit were former White Creed members in the past, how come she didn't get any. "Slow down a little, we don't wanna be talking over Eris and Reuel, given their expressions now, I suppose they'll listen. What's the letter about?"
“Oh potato, tomato.” At least she was attentive enough to catch the mistake. Ifrit continued on about the letter “Dunno yet, haven’t opened it. It’s addressed specifically to me, though. The ink looks hand-written. Something’s giving me a bad feeling about this letter… can’t be Elektra, right?”
"Open it for another time, we have pressing matters to attend to, Demonic Fog is a week from now. We'll open that as soon as I send Eris to Iceberg, hoping she finishes soon and Reuel, Port Camlann is too far from here, I'll just have him send a thought projection for Shinra and Jaina, who will rendezvous with Weisz." Azuria responded.
“You’re right, Azu… I’ll leave it for later.” He pushes the letter to the back of his mind. He thinks back to his mountain of paperwork he still has to fill out… no, there are more pressing matters. His office will have to wait for a bit. “Want me to hit the field?”
"I will handle your paperwork with you, use a thought projection for here or the field...wait what field." She talked up too fast but muscle memory wise, she knew what he meant. She just needed clarification.
“Sounds like these missions are gonna get a bit hairy. A lot of our S-Class mages are still… greenhorn. And the A and B class mages are gonna be sent out alongside them. Want me to tag along to one of those ‘espionage missions’?”
"You're too on the nose,” Azu said. “why don't you use your diplomatic skills on a potential ally like Iceberg, my homeland with Zeire and Gwen. My sister and I didn't grow up there, due to Hellgate Deliora 15 years ago, so I can't relate but with Gwen, having been born and raised there would have enough experience."
"Iceberg makes no distinction, ally or foe, they will kill anyone who sets foot in their turf due to the demonic fog, hence their hostility. This S-Class Quest to fix the bridge is risky, we're heading in uncharted territories that needed a nobility pass, that's why I picked Gwen, she'll tell you more anyway. After all, she could've been an S-Class, six years ago, Eris happened to have eclipsed her yet it's kinda silly if one is already an S-Class." Azu giggled a bit of the thought regarding Gwen and Eris. "One last thing, please try to get Lucas and Gwen to get along, they just hate each other."
‘Of course Eris eclipsed Gwen, she’s my student.’ Ifrit thought to himself. He continued on. “Shouldn’t we let Eris take charge of this mission? It’ll be a learning experience for her. I’ll stay out of sight, just in case hell is needed.”
"Eris is already in charge of this mission, Gwen is second in command for being a local and not many A Classes have her tenacity. Watch over as you please."
“Perfect.” Ifrit activated his Temporal Eyes and looked around for a bit. “Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, at least nothing we don’t know about.” He sighs and starts picking up his pace, now walking out of the building and back towards the guildhall. “You got anything else for me, Azu?”

**BACK TO THE CURRENT TIME**

“Sorry, office. But I’ll be gone for some time. Think you can manage without me?” Ifrit called out to his workspace, only to be met with a resounding silence. “Damn… You know, if you had an enchantment that let you speak, I wonder what you’d say…” He went on with that train of thought before shivering. “Nevermind, you’d probably end up chewing me out.”
He moves towards his office door. Before he leaves, he looks back to that unopened letter on his desk. It was pristine, bearing the wax seal of the White Creed. Unlike many other letters written by the group, its address was written in hand instead of an automatic magical engraving (Ifrit would know, he’s gotten a plethora of letters from them). It was addressed too “Ifrit, the Timeless Knight”. Everytime he looked at that letter he chuckled. He hasn’t gone by that name since he served under the king. Easier times, those were.

The letter remained unopened. He thought about opening it. It could be important, after all.

“Eh, fuck it. Better leave it for later.”

Fenix Tear [Invite | Ask Only]

_{^D.O.B X768·12 · 12 | ^Age 25 ^y.o | ^Guild Fenix Tear | ^Type Independent | ^Race Mildian}

𝕴𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖞
A mage educated from the Court of Merlin, a former Magic Knight, and rumored to be a future prospect for the Roundtable Knights. Ifrit had it all. Extreme talent, notable progeny, even a seat next to the king himself. It seemed Ifrit's destiny was dead-set, but the funny thing about fate is that it can take turns no one would expect. Seven years ago, he resigned from his position as a Magic Knight, forever killing any chance of becoming a Roundtable Knight. Instead, he and a young Azuria helped form a new guild. One independent from any outside influence or organization. One that would surely cement itself into legend. This would end up being the birth of Fenix Tear, with Azuria as its first (and only) Guildmaster.

𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊
Ifrit was born in near Bargrovyzaria to an otherwise un-notable family. In truth, he doesn't have many memories of his mother and father. At a very young age, when his profound affinity for magic was found out, his parents sent him into Bargrovyzaria proper to study in the Court of Merlin. He never cared much for the teachings themselves. To him, the fundamentals of magic were as natural to him as breathing. He quickly excelled through the ranks and years, on track to graduating early.

Ifrit needed something to challenge him. He showed great aptitude in all the basic magics taught to him, but they bored him greatly. To Ifrit, he wanted a challenge. A spellcraft to learn that no others would dare touch. A magic of this caliber could only be a Lost Magic. Knowing this Ifrit soon joined the White Creed. AN organization of Whiteout Mages with an affinity to studying Lost Magic (alongside setting magical regulations_ So, throughout the nights, he would go out into the city. Visiting decrepid libraries, following whims and stories of ancient texts and forbidden information, and often setting out for days on end to follow tales and rumors.

These sleepless nights and dangerous journeys paid off in the end. By the time his final year at the White Creed came around, he discovered, practiced, and become proficient in a lost art, time magic. Keeping much of the stories of where he found the information about time magic to himself, his fame only grew wider. After his departure from the Creed, he was immediately slotted as a member of the Magic Knights, a group of mages entrusted by the king to uphold his law and order. He was 13 at the time.

Four years passed, and Ifrit's power only grew. He knew much knowledge of his time magic was, well, lost to time. So discovering new techniques and practicing the magic art was difficult. But when he turned seventeen he was at a master's level. This achievment, alongside the rumors of him possibly being scouted to become a Roundtable Knight, Ifrit was extremely content with his life and future. A few months after his seventeenth birthday, though, fate would decide to change course.

He found himself bored. dissatisfied with his work. Ifrit was a man of determination and drive, constantly wanting to challenge himself to learn new things and achieve greater heights. But here he was, at the precipice of greatness. And when he looked back on his journey, he found it... easy. He didn't like that one bit. Where was the challenge that was promised? The prestige and laurels were lost on him, he felt dissatisfied with it all. Not knowing where to go next, he sought out the king for counsel. When he told the king his woes and worries, the king couldn't help but chuckle at Ifrit's plight. He told Ifrit that "one of the greatest challenges one can face in life is helping lead others to their greatness."

Ifrit sat on these words for some time. And a few weeks later, he asked the king to resign from his position. If leading people and guiding them was truly one of the most difficult things a man can do, than he will do it. He will master it, become one of the greatest leaders of this generation. Only when he does that, he can truly feel satisfied about his journey. The king accepted his request, and entrusted Ifrit to create a knew Mages Guild. Ifrit knew nothing about creating such an organization, but he knew where to find help. From his connections in the White Creed, he heard of a young girl named Azuria. A child prodigy and well renowned mage. After some time talking with her, they both agreed to set out and make this guild.

There were many trials and tribulations with creating an organization at the level Fenix Tear would be. He had to learn to work with others, tolerate their immaturity (this one came especially handy when working with Azuria), and more importantly he had to learn to set his ego aside. It was very tough for Ifrit, but he persevered. He kept improving day in and day out. Than, the fateful day came. The Fenix Tear Guild could officially open her halls to the wider world. When it came time to decide who would be the guild master, Ifrit insisted that Azuria take the position. He truly believed that he still had much to learn, and that Azuria was already molded to bear the title. Though he still holds a position of authority within the guild, it's largely in reverence of him being a co-founder (among other things).

𝕬𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

_{Class: Magus | Origin: 3^rd | Deck: Ether | Ethos: God}

_Glazing
^Rankd: S

^Grade: S+

_Affinities
Abyss

_Magecraft
Esoteric Art: Time Magic, a lost magic that allows for temporal manipulation and cohersion. Ifrit believes that the magic art could possibly extend to paracausal manipulation, but this is only theory. Ifrit also have access to Mystic Eyes Magic, something he learned while in the White Creed.

ESOTERIC ART: TIME MAGIC

Time/Accelerate - Ifrit forcibly increases the flow of time around him. This allows him to do practically everything faster. Pushing the flow of time could theoretically increase his speed, but Ifrit never pushed it. There is still a lot he doesn't know about this specific spell, so he's committed to keeping the flow within a "safe" level. Of course, this means that those mages with greater cognitive, perceptive, and/or speed skills can keep up with him easily.

Time/Decelerate - Ifrit causes the ebb of time around him to slow all living being except him. He doesn't know why the time slow effect only works on living beings, tests have all come back inconclusive.

NOTE: Time/Accelerate and Time/Decelerate cannot be used at the same time. Ifrit tried it once, he almost tore himself in two.

Epoch - Forcing the flow of time to shunt directly to his palms and consolidating a large amount of mana, Ifrit can create (in essence) a physical paradox. After enough temporal energy is stored, he can release it in an all engulphing blast. Usually, to use this spell safely, Ifrit must ward himself in ethereal vestiges that come in the form of golden clocks. This is an end-all-be-all move, if scorched earth is the only option.

Centennial - a much smaller and localized version of Epoch. Used in general combat and, while still destructive, doesn't have anywhere near the potency of its more dangerous counterpart

Aeon, Era, Origin of Creation - Ifrit's greatest spell. Massive, golden dials and clockfaces fill the sky around him. The pull of time can be felt physically. A chime rings out 66 times. And on the 67th chime, all of time stands still for a minute. Ifrit is still free to move around and cast spells. Aeon, Era, Origin of Creation is an extremely powerful spell, and one Ifrit has never cast before. He (theoretically) know how to do it AND CAN cast it, but the risks are severe. Altering the flow of time at such a massive scale is prone to cause problems, possibly irreparable. Outside of Azuria, he's never revealed the truth about this spell to anyone.

Eye of God

An Ether Gear that enhances sensory observation by peering into the literal temporal flow of time, when in use, his eyes change to a golden hue with time arrows skin to a grandfather clock.

_{Advancery
Jutsushiki | Projection | Telekinesis | Telepathy | Teleportation | Bullet | Chain | Speed | Heal
Holder Type}
· With Jutsushiki, Ifrit can conjure chronorunic runes of letter-based solid script magic as word enchantments, the ingredients for his pen is from an elder tree bark of Drasil, tears of a Phoenix and a Philosopher Stone of Aja, from his heirloom ancestral Mildian Tribes.

_{Caster Type}
· Ifrit can summon two Thought Projections of himself at the cost of having ¼ each of his magic evenly split into said projections, leaving him halved, rendering him unable to use Time Magic.

· Telekinesis at an advanced level, allows Ifrit to play with magical rubix cubes, mentally control pens to do the paper work, and temporal flight.

· Telepathy is for comms-based, Ifrit can choose to omit information as what any S-Class can do.

· Teleportation allows Ifrit a total of 3 times in a row long distance burst travel, which takes half of his magic power.

· Ifrit can shoot magic bullets, at his level it is magic beams.

· Ifrit can restrain with basic chains only.

· Ifrit can Heal himself by reversing time, however he loses 75% of his magic power.

_Talentstree
Three Nonmagic things you're good at.

𝕸𝖊𝖉𝖑𝖊𝖞
Your theme songs.

Fenix Tear [Invite | Ask Only]

Ifrit

_{12/12/X768-25 | Fenix Tear | S}

_Identity

A mage educated from the Court of Merlin, a former Magic Knight, and rumored to be a future prospect for the Roundtable Knights. Ifrit had it all. Extreme talent, notable progeny, even a seat next to the king himself. It seemed Ifrit's destiny was dead-set, but the funny thing about fate is that it can take turns no one would expect. Seven years ago, he resigned from his position as a Magic Knight, forever killing any chance of becoming a Roundtable Knight. Instead, he and a young Azuria helped form a new guild. One independent from any outside influence or organization. One that would surely cement itself into legend. This would end up being the birth of Fenix Tear, with Azuria as its first (and only) Guildmaster.

_Fairytale

Ifrit was born in near Bargrovyzaria to an otherwise un-notable family. In truth, he doesn't have many memories of his mother and father. At a very young age, when his profound affinity for magic was found out, his parents sent him into Bargrovyzaria proper to study in the Court of Merlin. He never cared much for the teachings themselves. To him, the fundamentals of magic were as natural to him as breathing. He quickly excelled through the ranks and years, on track to graduating early.

Ifrit needed something to challenge him. He showed great aptitude in all the basic magics taught to him, but they bored him greatly. To Ifrit, he wanted a challenge. A spellcraft to learn that no others would dare touch. A magic of this caliber could only be a Lost Magic. Knowing this Ifrit soon joined the White Creed. AN organization of Whiteout Mages with an affinity to studying Lost Magic (alongside setting magical regulations_ So, throughout the nights, he would go out into the city. Visiting decrepid libraries, following whims and stories of ancient texts and forbidden information, and often setting out for days on end to follow tales and rumors.

These sleepless nights and dangerous journeys paid off in the end. By the time his final year at the White Creed came around, he discovered, practiced, and become proficient in a lost art, time magic. Keeping much of the stories of where he found the information about time magic to himself, his fame only grew wider. After his departure from the Creed, he was immediately slotted as a member of the Magic Knights, a group of mages entrusted by the king to uphold his law and order. He was 13 at the time.

Four years passed, and Ifrit's power only grew. He knew much knowledge of his time magic was, well, lost to time. So discovering new techniques and practicing the magic art was difficult. But when he turned seventeen he was at a master's level. This achievment, alongside the rumors of him possibly being scouted to become a Roundtable Knight, Ifrit was extremely content with his life and future. A few months after his seventeenth birthday, though, fate would decide to change course.

He found himself bored. dissatisfied with his work. Ifrit was a man of determination and drive, constantly wanting to challenge himself to learn new things and achieve greater heights. But here he was, at the precipice of greatness. And when he looked back on his journey, he found it... easy. He didn't like that one bit. Where was the challenge that was promised? The prestige and laurels were lost on him, he felt dissatisfied with it all. Not knowing where to go next, he sought out the king for counsel. When he told the king his woes and worries, the king couldn't help but chuckle at Ifrit's plight. He told Ifrit that "one of the greatest challenges one can face in life is helping lead others to their greatness."

Ifrit sat on these words for some time. And a few weeks later, he asked the king to resign from his position. If leading people and guiding them was truly one of the most difficult things a man can do, than he will do it. He will master it, become one of the greatest leaders of this generation. Only when he does that, he can truly feel satisfied about his journey. The king accepted his request, and entrusted Ifrit to create a knew Mages Guild. Ifrit knew nothing about creating such an organization, but he knew where to find help. From his connections in the White Creed, he heard of a young girl named Azuria. A child prodigy and well renowned mage. After some time talking with her, they both agreed to set out and make this guild.

There were many trials and tribulations with creating an organization at the level Fenix Tear would be. He had to learn to work with others, tolerate their immaturity (this one came especially handy when working with Azuria), and more importantly he had to learn to set his ego aside. It was very tough for Ifrit, but he persevered. He kept improving day in and day out. Than, the fateful day came. The Fenix Tear Guild could officially open her halls to the wider world. When it came time to decide who would be the guild master, Ifrit insisted that Azuria take the position. He truly believed that he still had much to learn, and that Azuria was already molded to bear the title. Though he still holds a position of authority within the guild, it's largely in reverence of him being a co-founder (among other things).

_Grimoire

_Origin
Third
_Design
???
_Magic
Esoteric Art: Time Magic, a lost magic that allows for temporal manipulation and cohersion. Ifrit believes that the magic art could possibly extend to paracausal manipulation, but this is only theory. Ifrit also have access to Mystic Eyes Magic, something he learned while in the White Creed

Spells

ESOTERIC ART: TIME MAGIC

Time/Accelerate - Ifrit forcibly increases the flow of time around him. This allows him to do practically everything faster. Pushing the flow of time could theoretically increase his speed, but Ifrit never pushed it. There is still a lot he doesn't know about this specific spell, so he's committed to keeping the flow within a "safe" level. Of course, this means that those mages with greater cognitive, perceptive, and/or speed skills can keep up with him easily.

Time/Decelerate - Ifrit causes the ebb of time around him to slow all living being except him. He doesn't know why the time slow effect only works on living beings, tests have all come back inconclusive.

NOTE: Time/Accelerate and Time/Decelerate cannot be used at the same time. Ifrit tried it once, he almost tore himself in two.

Epoch - Forcing the flow of time to shunt directly to his palms and consolidating a large amount of mana, Ifrit can create (in essence) a physical paradox. After enough temporal energy is stored, he can release it in an all engulphing blast. Usually, to use this spell safely, Ifrit must ward himself in ethereal vestiges that come in the form of golden clocks. This is an end-all-be-all move, if scorched earth is the only option.

Centennial - a much smaller and localized version of Epoch. Used in general combat and, while still destructive, doesn't have anywhere near the potency of its more dangerous counterpart

Aeon, Era, Origin of Creation - Ifrit's greatest spell. Massive, golden dials and clockfaces fill the sky around him. The pull of time can be felt physically. A chime rings out 66 times. And on the 67th chime, all of time stands still for a minute. Ifrit is still free to move around and cast spells. Aeon, Era, Origin of Creation is an extremely powerful spell, and one Ifrit has never cast before. He (theoretically) know how to do it AND CAN cast it, but the risks are severe. Altering the flow of time at such a massive scale is prone to cause problems, possibly irreparable. Outside of Azuria, he's never revealed the truth about this spell to anyone.

MYSTIC EYES MAGIC ART

Chronurge Syzygy - This allows Ifrit to peer into the literal temporal flow. His eyes change to a golden hue with the aesthetics of a vintage grandfather clockface etching itself onto his eyes (something something Kurumi. you're welcome, Vergil)

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

MATSURU YAOYOROZU

Matsuru always thought he had a rather quick reaction time. With his quirk, Judgement Gaze, he's able to quickly discern any minute movements with his opponent. Whether it be a quickened heart rate, a short inhale, or the tiniest handshake. Usually, using these observations with his heightened cognitive state, he can make an estimation on what his opponent will do and quickly act on it within fractions of a second. This, of course, has its share of downsides. Namely, he has to be focused on the enemy. If they are a skilled opponent, any subtle movement can be the meaning between life and death.

He always knew he had a quick reaction time. But he also knew believing yourself to be the best at anything is a surefire way to have your hubris be the end of you. He always knew others around him were better, or more skilled, at many things than he was. It was upsetting to him, but it was reality.

Matsuru always held a rivalry towards Yusuke. He disagrees with many things he does, and holds contempt towards him when he comes ahead of him. But, there is one fundamental truth Matsuru learned from their early years of sparring against each other.

Yusuke always had a quicker reaction time. He could read their emotions, something Matsuru could never do. Matsuru always saw this as an undeniable truth, that his "unbearable rival" had the quickest reactions he had ever seen.

Matsuru never saw Clap attack Hebi and Haru. He barely registered Yusuke stepping in to defend the two students. What he did see was his cousin get skewered by a dozen tentacles and fall onto the floor a bloodied body.

He froze for what felt like an eternity. His muscles clamped up, his eyes shaking, his mind screamed at him to run for help but his legs refused to cooperate. Images kept flashing through his mind of that night he encountered Keyaru. The first, and what he hoped to be the last, night he fought against a Nomu.

The mangled corpses of all the poor bystanders flashed through his eyes. Some of their faces were contorted in screams, some in shock, and others into indescribable emotions. That sinister laugh echoed as well, Keyaru’s ominous words ringing.

““Know this, Sherlock… Our little dance won’t end tonight. Soon, when the time comes, we will see eachother again. And when we do, let’s finish our danse macabre!”

Is that what he meant? Another massacre? Is this vengeance? A sick play? Nothing more than the whims of a careless madman acting as God? More and more thoughts and what-if’s kept circulating. And in those few moments where the Observant Hero, Sherlock stood still, he felt truly hopeless.

As he was just about ready to snap, a sudden silence filled his mind. It was loud, soft, peaceful, and pure nothingness at the same time. He could have sworn he felt the presence of another person, or being, near him. He looked around, and he didn’t see anyone. Just a neverending landscape illuminated by the soft blue hue of a snowstorm.
Wait a moment… This mindscape… He’s been here before, and recently. He knows where he is.

Matsuru let himself to giggle a bit. “Snow Resplendence… Is this what you meant, Harpy?” He called out to the empty snowscape, only to be met with his echoes. Last night, he went to visit Rin in her dorm. They were both sucked into this place. One of her… lets just call them *personalities* approached him, spoke to him, warned him. Were it not Ravens making an unexpected appearance (and nearly getting her head lobbed off) to deliver an ominous threat, he would say that his meeting with Harpy was the weirdest thing that happened that night.

Unsatisfied with his lack of answers, he settled with a status quo. He was locked in a dreamscape. Outside of here, his class and peers are being attacked by Nomu’s. Yusuke is down, but certainly not dead… “Wait, didn’t Yusuke tell me something beforehand?”

"I don't have time for your jokes. Please help my friend, Kanako...her mind is stuck inside the Nomu, we've trying to keep it still and it's a battle of attrition on our part, Senpai. Go inside her mind, I'm sure you felt Ladyice's telepathic Quirk too...those apparitions…

“Ok… I have so many questions… You better live through this Yusuke.” Matsuru muttered to himself. So, that presence he felt, it has to be Kanako… Who was Kanako? “Fuuuuck, not now brain.” He said in frustration. “Concentrate, Sherlock. Find that presence, make a tether… AND PULL!”

He felt some sort of link form between him and that presence. WIth a small prayer, Matsuru forces this link to pull his direction. In truth, he doesn’t know if this will bring Kanako back… He’s just hoping.

That mental tug was excruciatingly painful. It felt like someone hooked a rope onto his brain and tugged with all their might. As bad as it was, Matsuru held firm. Yelling out in a mixture of pain, defiance, and determination, he kept pulling at the “connection”. After what felt like an eternity, he felt the other end go slack… He did it.

Panting & recovering from that whole ordeal, Matsuru allowed himself a moment to think. Sitting down on the ethereal blue floor, he rested his hand on his fist and opened his mind. Activating his quirk, his brain started processing information at the rate of a super computer. Within mere moments, he had a plan. “These Nomu’s regenerate at a rapid rate. Their skin is near impenetrable, and they have no obvious weak spots… I have to kill it in one blow, and I will only have one shot.” He thought to himself.

Matsuru’s mind went again to his first encounter with a Nomu, but this time when Rin came to his aid. “When she used her quirk, a strong enough blast of ice seemed to stop its regeneration, if not slow it down… I know what to do.”

As if the dreamscape was responding to his wishes, he found himself returned to reality. Just in time to see Haru smite Clap with a ray of iridescent, radiating sunlight. Averting his eyes, Matsuru knew this would be his chance. He took a deep breath in, drowning out the noise and chaos. Soon, he couldn’t even hear the shrilling scream of Clap. The only thing he heard was his heartbeat, and the memories of his scolding father. The same speech that came to him when he was on the verge of defeat all those nights ago surfaced again.

*thump*

“You are a Yaoyorozu, and that surname is everything to you.”

*thump*

"It is your life, your light, your sacred duty."

*thump*

"Above all, above everything and everyone else, above being a perfect hero. You will make sure to not abscond that name! Am I understood?”

*badump*

“Yeah, fuck you dad.”

Matsuru sprung forward, accelerating himself with a bit of flame manipulation at his feet. As soon as Haru’s display of power ceded, Clap was met with a corrosive-tipped spear lodged into its abdomen. Matsuru, holding onto the shaft, capitalized on Calp’s disorientated state and rushed the Nomu. He hoisted himself from the ground to the Nomu’s head. Matsuru saw up close and personal what Clap looked like. Or, at least, what was left. It’s face was singed and seared from the photon beam.

Matsuru clasped the Nomu’s head in a vice-like grip. Pushing down with all his might. Clap panicked, thrashing like a beached fish in an attempt to get Matsuru off of him. It was a struggle, but he stayed on. “May you be born away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.” He muttered to the Nomu. His words were like bile, laced with venom and spite.

He focused all of his willpower into his two hands. His left, a frigid cold. And his right, a hellfire. He grunted in pain, but he kept the temperature lowering and rising. After a brief moment, a flash and boom knocked Matsuru away, sending him a couple feet back.

He spat out blood, he heard ringing in his ears, he couldn’t feel his hands… But the headless corpse of the Nomu was splayed out five feet from him. Motionless. Lifeless.

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

MATSURU YAOYOROZU

A blank face washed over Matsuru. His eyes, usually filled with inquisition or allure, are deadpan. He’s staring at Spectra with a thousand yard stare. In truth, his mind was elsewhere. The past few days were a whirlwind for him. His mind was a place of turbulence and bridled frustration. He thought he knew enough about Rin other “personalities”, but twice now they’ve forcefully shunted him into a dreamscape to either taunt him or to tell him foreboding news. His thoughts about what that damned Harpy told him were branded in the forefront of his psyche…

"Ah...so you're a 6th Generation too. You won't have my Quirk but I'll let you have something else, you see, you're running out of time. Go to that French Restaurant, Le'Nombril Restau, Kazuki and Hikari are doomed to fail against Nemesis."

He grinded his teeth in anger. He shouldn’t be here. At this damned restaurant. Talking to one of Hawks’ *puppets*. He doesn’t even know why he listened to Harpy’s orders. Last he remembered, Rin and him fought best together. Two pieces of machinery that work in harmonious tandem. She was the engine, he was the gauge. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to leave. To join the fight. But he won’t, he can’t. Matsu sighs and softens his gaze.

‘I need to trust them.’ He thinks to himself. ‘Hawk has a good set of kids he instructs… I think. Either way, trust that Harpy has a decent plan. Trust Kazuki and Hikari. Now is not the time to jump the gun. Wait for the signal.’

"I am intrigued that you have survived an encounter with Ryukazuki Keyaru, tell me more…"

He chuckled at her question. “Keyaru…” Matsuru said in a slow, drawn out sigh.

“He’s not human. He’s a nightmare. A Claudius to Hamlet. The Moriarty to my Sherlock… He is the antithesis of all we hero’s do. In some ways a fold to your organization, Spectra. You all kill for a perverted, fanciful idea,” He didn’t let the venom in his words go unnoticed. “But if you were to use those same tactics against Keyaru and his Eight Bullets? You would find yourself outclassed. If death was an artform, he would be the Van Gogh, the Monet, the Picasso. And you would be a third grader, who thinks fingerpainting is the pinnacle of creativity. “

He picks up the juice and takes a long sip. “But I’m sure you know this already. You want to know about my fight with him”...

**eight months ago**

The torrent of rain and thunder did little to help the miserably cold night. Though that did little to stifle the nightlife of the city. Noises from pedestrians, vehicles, night clubs, and everything else in between echoed through the concrete jungle like a symphony. Minus the horrid weather, it was a peaceful night. If you were a normal person going about your daily life, little would be out of the ordinary.

In one of the back alleys, a businessman holding a black briefcase was darting between corners and jumping over obstacles with an obscene proficiency. He was on the run. His face was largely obscured by a white hat, but it did not take much to see he was running from something, or someone. This businessman kept looking behind him, ahead of him, all around him, trying to make sure the person chasing him was not close. Unfortunately for him, the business man did not notice the large iron ball that was thrown at his torso.

A crack, a yell, and the sound of crashing made some of the pedestrians crossing a rather busy sidewalk stop in their tracks. Out from a dark alleyway, stumbling onto the main street, the businessman’s body hurled onto the ground. He quickly recovered, ruggedly standing up and grabbing his suitcase that fell off the floor. No one could see his face. Was there fear? Dread? Fascination? Pure entropic malignance? The only thing the people could see was the direction the man was facing. It was the alleyway he was shunted out of. The businessman took in a deep breath and sighed. A small figure was emerging from the dark alley. A small rime of frost crested off the sanguine-colored brick and into the open air. An arming sword, now gleaming in the artificial light, refracted some luminance onto the businessman’s face. From the dust and frost the man saw his pursuer. The indigo glow. The Judgement Gaze.

The businessman chuckled, his voice coming out raspy and potent. “I’ll hand it to you, Sherlock. You managed to hit me. Not many say they can.”

Matsuru stepped out of the alleyway. He was pissed. Angry. He wanted to kill this man. No, death wouldn’t be enough. He would display his grotesque corpse all across the Hosu Prefecture as a message for the villains. In this brief moment he allowed himself this vengeful, cathartic thought, Matsuru pondered if this is how the Hawk’s Agency feels when they kill a villain… Best not to pursue this line of thinking any further.

“The chase ends here, Keyaru.” He huffed out. He was panting from the chase, his breath could be seen with the low temperature surrounding his body. Some of the passerbyers started to back up, some ran, some tried calling for help. “Do not try to continue this pursuit. You would find my gaze to be hard to break.”

“Oh, on the contrary, my goodman Sherlock… I think I have just the solution to our little game.” Though Keyaru moved with blinding speed, Matsuru saw everything. Keyaru pulled a pocket knife from his coat, rushing the Observant Hero. A quick parry, jab, and a blast of frost rendered Keyaru back on the ground. Matsuru sighed again, “Stop playing these games, Keyaru. This is the last time I will ask. Surrender yourself, or the next bout will be your last.”

It started as a small cackle, then a chortle, then to a laugh from a nightmare. Keyaru’s laugh exhumed a malefic ardor. Reverberating off the stone facade of the buildings. “Know this, Sherlock… Our little dance won’t end tonight. Soon, when the time comes, we will see eachother again. And when we do, let’s finish our danse macabre!”

Too focused on the fight, Matsuru never noticed the open briefcase until it was too late. In it were seven syringes, with space for eight. One was missing. He quickly looked around and saw a horrifying sight. A random pedestrian has one of the syringes sticking out of her neck. Her eyes were lulled into her skull, her body shaking violently. ‘Shit… he must have thrown it during his attack…’ He thought to himself.

Matsuru tried to move to help the lady, but by that point it was too late. Her body started changing, like a forced evolution. Soon, her screams of pain were overshadowed by the sound of cracking bone and mutating flesh. For one of the few times in his life, Matsuru froze up. All his training left him, he was scared. Terrified. Once this creature stopped mutating, it towered over Matsuru. It still had a humanoid body, but it grew an avian-like mouth with an exposed brain. Matsu stood in awe, fear, and confusement. It was too much for him. It was so much, in fact, that he didn’t even register the Nomu driving a haymaker into his gut.

The world was spinning for him. That one punch sent Matsuru flying through the air, crashing almost five stories up into a random window. He grunted in pain, fleming out some blood. It took him a few minutes to get back up. All the while he could hear screams, crashes, and general terror. But all that occupied his mind was the ringing in his ears. The glow from his eyes faded, the frost aura he had kept up dissipated as well. It was a personal hell for him. He knew he had to move, to rush into the fight, to try to kill this creature or save as many civilians as he could. But he couldn’t move. No matter how much his mind screamed at his body, it refused to cooperate. In that limbo between dreams and reality, where the waking mind falls into dreamful sublimity, he fought with all his might to stay afloat. To stay above the sea of unconsciousness.

“Fight on… move… MOVE DAMMIT!” In his mind's eye, he could hear his father screaming at him. “You cannot stop unless I give you that explicit permission. You will keep on moving, even if your bones snap. Your fight will never end. You are a Yaoyorozu, and that surname is everything to you. It is your life, your light, your sacred duty. Above all, above everything and everyone else, above being a perfect hero. You will make sure to not abscond that name! Am I understood?”

A flush of adrenaline and hatred filled Matsuru’s body. He never liked his father. Hell, he would damn near say he resented him. But for some reason, that speech he gave him has always stuck with him.

In a groan of pain, Matsuru stood up. He stumbled to the window where he saw the scene of a terror attack. Cars have been flipped over, bodies lay strewn aimlessly across the entire street. Keyaru was missing, but Matsuru didn’t care. He only had one thing in mind. To stop the Nomu.

He baited his breath, concentrating on regaining some strength. “What can I do?!” He thought to himself. He doubts using the quirk of his cousin, Momo Yaoyorozu, would do much good. And using Rin’s was too exhausting and taxing to keep up for such a long period of time. Matsuru decided to do something he rarely does. “I don’t fully understand this quirk… but I have to use it.” In one swift move, he jumped from the roof. Falling directly towards the Nomu
“OVER HERE, FUCKFACE!” He yells out. He bites down his teeth as a searing pain starts to slither down his right arm. It was like the blood in his veins were boiling his arm from the inside out. First it was a spark, then a tinder, then a maelstrom of fire and brimstone engulfing the sword. Like a streaking star in the night sky, Matsuru yelled out a roar of defiance as he came crashing down onto the Nomu. That strike reverberated across the battlefield. Crushing the stone under the area of impact and making a soundwave course throughout the entire city.

When the dust cleared, Matsuru and the Nomu were still standing but badly harmed. Matsuru’s sword was completely broken, and his entire right arm was burnt and singed. The Nomu showed signs of significant damage, but still had fight left in it. It barreled towards Matsu, its head pointed down. It intended to gore the hero, like a bull charging at a red flag. Matsuru tried to move, but his body was significantly damaged. In a split second, he formed a shield out of his left arm, hoping it could possibly dampen the blow. He closed his eyes in anticipation.

But the blow never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw the Nomu frozen in place. Matsuru instantly jumped back, activating his Judgement Gaze. After the adrenaline had cooled down, he recognized this frost. He knows this feeling all too well. “Ara, Matsu~ Did you have all this fun without me?”

“About time.. You showed up… Rin.” He said through pants. Rin, dressed in her official hero attire, loomed behind him. A gale of rime and frost emanated from her like a blizzard. Matsuru was about to fall into her arms when he heard a crack. Than a chink. Then a break. The Nomu was breaking out of its ice prison.

“Shit… It’s coming out. Ready yourself, Ladyice!” He yelled out. The two of them adopted a battle stance, positioning themselves to attack the Nomu once it broke out. Though Matsuru was hurt bad, he knew he had to fight. At least until another pro hero comes. Admittedly, the thought that he had Rin by his side gave him confidence. His eyes began to glow brighter as he reached to his chest and pulled a spear out of his body. He will fight, he will win. He has too… He still has an unanswered dance.

**back to realtime**

“... After that, Endeavor and that Spider-whatshisface hero came to save us. The total count was twenty seven dead, seventy five wounded. The Nomu was either killed in a blast or disappeared, we don’t know.” Matsuru gripped his glass tightly, finishing up his story to Spectra. “If it’s true that Kazuki and Hikari are going after one of those… things, then we can’t be sitting idly by. I know that your ‘Harpy’ has a plan, but I can’t in my right mind sit here while my colleagues could be fighting for their lives at this very moment.”

Matsuru takes a deep breath and leans back into his chair. “If there is a Nomu lurking around, than that must mean Keyaru and his Eight Bullets are close…” He goes back to his pensive state, rapping his nails on the glass. Tip, tap, tap…

“He still owes me a final dance.”

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

RIN AND MATSURU

(Post was made by @Verjil and I)

Rin has been stripped of her position. Memories of the unwanted incident had her in tears as she sulked alone in house arrest in the Endeavor Common Room. Matsuru went off to Rin’s down as soon as he could. He stopped by some local shops to pick up some snacks and presents, anything that would help cheer her up. When he got there, he knocked on her dorm door. “Rin, it’s me.” Resonating with the voice amidst the chaotic noises that clouded her judgment, Rin could barely form a sentence. A simple, sound nod signaled the flame inside her dorm, reluctant yet willing for companionship in such a time. "I failed...the voices in my head just won't go away."

Behind his calm face, his gut was wrenching in two. He hated seeing people going through such pain. He hated that he doubts his ability to help her. Yet he stays calm. “Can you let me in Rin? I can help … I brought chocolates, your favorite.” As Rin began to walk with hope, her body just stopped moving. Intrusive thoughts whispered through her, a sensation, predisposition of not to open the door. She wailed with anxiety creeping, the room suddenly dropped in temperature, cold air visibly emitting from the gaps of the door, enough for Matsuru to feel. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"
A chilling blast came through the cracks, blasing Matsuru right in the face, causing him to take a step back. Shocked, but largely unshaken. "Alright..." Matsuru activated his quirk, a purple light filling the corridor. Focusing, he can see through the door. He sees Rin. disheveled, drained, fighting for control of her own body. He's seen her like this before, but it never fails to break his heart. "Rin... I know you don't mean that. I know what you have to live with is hell on earth. But I also know that you once saved me from my own hell." Even though he does his best to keep his composure, he does begin to tear up. "So please, Rin. Let me help you with yours."

It was a psychological nightmare. The voices that rooted in her head were more than just conscience, but independent sentience of two minds against her own will. "NO!”
"Ok... Time for plan B." Matsuru turned his gaze to the door's lock. Using Judgement Gaze, he quickly discerned the lock's shears. Then, using his older cousin Momo’s quirk, he was able to make a copy of the key. He really hated using his quirk like this, but desperate times and whatnot. "Rin, I'm coming in. Please don't kill me."

In the same manner, Matsuru was tapped in the back by what seemed to be an image of Rin that seemed visceral, almost vestigial. Was it a vision? What is a phantom? Was it a premonition? Rin was inside their room but what was that? The distorted image was in anguish as it faded quickly. Even Matsuru’s Judgement Gaze couldn't make heads or tails about what he saw. He kept the image in a mental note, telling himself to look into that apparition later. He unlocked the door and stepped into Rin's dorm.

"Rin is not here." The voice sounded older yet youthful. The other one nodded, "Yeah, she's not here." Said voice sounded childlike. Matsuru sighs and puts the presents and snacks down on her bed. His eyes illuminescent with tempered fury. "And I imagine I have the unfortunate pleasure of speaking with her two hitchhikers?" After a brief moment, his visionfaded into nothingness. Nothing but a white landscape clouded Matsuru's vision, it wasn't physical, rather mental. A mental landscape between her and Rin.

Matsuru takes a moment to examine the area. "So... This is how it will be." He starts moving towards Rin, determined to reach her. His pace was cut off by… an apparition? A memory? He wasn’t sure. A baby was crawling on the floor, attempting to reach its milk. The drink was situated atop a table. "What in the... A child?" Matsuru looks around and grabs the milk for the child. "Who are-." The milk disappeared and the child who smiled at Matsuru suddenly turned into worry. Two toddlers were pulling Matsuru's legs, as if they spawned directly from the ground. With each pull, the grip grew stronger/ It was as if Matsuru was sinking in quicksand.

"Oh, motherf-." He struggles to get himself free, batting away at the children. "Rin... RIN!!" He vainly yells out. In a sudden flash, the air around him drops in temperature. A flash frost engulfs Matsuru and the surrounding area in an outward blast. "Get away from me you damned mongrels!" Matsuru, now using Rin's quirk, shoves the children away. He leaps back, a small snow tempest still circling around him. With that burst of power, the children were shredded into immaterium. But a new set of figures emerged. Matsuru saw three girls, not toddlers but children. The other took the milk away from the said girl and drank it. The two girls were picking on the tormented girl.

After taking a deep breath and dispelling his copied quirk. Matsuru took a moment to center himself. "This is a test... Just like your stories, Matsuru, this is a test." He starts walking forward to the three children. "Hey, you three!"

The image shifted into a different turn, everything began to spiral, even Matsuru’ It felt like his body and soul were being shredded into pieces, twisting and swirling. He saw a house, he saw a couple crying, he saw the tormented child once more. It was vaguely a police crime scene. Then suddenly it all came crashing, an image of a snow mountain and an avalanche. The vision stopped, snapping Matsuru back to reality. Rin has been shaking him from his daydreaming. The apparitions ended. "Darling... Darling...."

His eyes were lulled, still glowing purple with his quirk, but his gaze was completely glossed over. When he finally came too, he saw Rin shaking him awake. It took some time for him to put two and two together. "Oh, hey... Are you feeling bette?" He let out a sheepish chuckle. In truth, he felt like absolute shit. Whatever that vision was, it made him feel like he just went through a rigorous fight. In a flash, Rin's eyes bled blue, appearing to have been stabbed by two ice picks. "Darling..." A reflection of Matsuru appeared to him. "She's mine and you'll never save her." The vision ended for real.

"MOTHERF-" Matsuru awakens in a sudden jolt of adrenaline. "Rin... RIN!" He was back in Rin’s dorm. For real this time. Rin is tucked into her bed, pretending to be asleep. Matsuru rushes to her side, only pausing once he gets to her bedside. Though he is exhausted from the literal mental gymnastics, he conjures what willpower he has left and uses his quirk to examine her. After making sure she is physically ok, he sighs a breath of relief and chuckles to himself. "You know, Rin. I don't need my quirk to see when you're faking your sleep."

The skin behind his neck prickled, his brain yelling out in warning. His quirk, Judement Gaze, saw something was coming. And that something wasn’t good. "Feeling sentimental, Mr. Yaoyorozu?" Ravens appeared out of the blue. The professor, appearing out of nowhere, found herself with a sword pointed to her neck. Matsuru, having created the sword and maneuvered it to whoever was going to show up in a fraction of a second, hesitated only when he saw who appeared. "Ravens... If I was a second slower, I would have taken your head off."

"No, I doubt that would have happened" The mirage of Ravens gestured over to Rin, who was now fully awake. "Turn her over for questioning, I'm sure Chisaki, by the virtue of Madame Todoroki, has told you to turn over suspicious Hawks Interns."

"Rin..." His eyes flared in anger, only to return to a tempered state. "I turned over Hawk's Interns to detention, I did what was asked." He kept his sword at Ravens' neck. "You will not touch her." Ravens sighed, she trusted select people about her identity but to think, such a thing would backfire. "Fine. If one of her answers to the League, don't blame me for your regrets." Ravens disappeared.

Matsuru stayed in the same stance for a little, his mind racing. "League? Regrets?" He didn't know, and that troubled him. Well, more things to push into the 'figure out later' mental folder. Using his quirk one more time, he scanned the general area of Rin's dorm to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Once he was satisfied, he deactivated his quirk and knelt down next to Rin's bed. "Hell of an evening, huh?" She agreed with Matsuru. "I'm under house arrest. I rather not talk about it. Let's go watch the Hero Billboard Top 10 Ranks. I'm hungry too. You got those chocolates?” Matsuru reaches for the chocolates he brought, giving Rin a whole box. "I hope you don't mind the shape... It's all they had." The carton is shaped like a heart. Rin didn't mind about the shape, they watched what they needed to and a commercial break was fireworks.

TWO HOURS LATER

Matsuru groaned in grogginess. It took a moment for him to readjust to his surroundings. At first, everything was unfamiliar to him. Then his recollection hit him like a train. This familiar bed, this weight on his chest, this familiar nip in the air... He could say, with certainty, that he was in Rin's room. And he has a pretty good idea what just happened.

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

Detention... Why did it have to be detention

No matter how academic and studious Matsuru Yaoyorozu might be, he's not like his cousin. She is constantly eager to learn and boasting a rigorous work ethic. In truth, Matsuru hated school. It was so... bureaucratic, yeah that's the word. In his mind, he saw Eirei as a big game of politico. It's not about what you learn or what you do, its about who you know and who knows you. Luckily for Yaomatsu, he didn't have to play their venerate "game of thrones". His blood alone is enough to secure a comfortable position within the hero world after graduation. Not even including his prestige, accolades, and skill. He hated the innate hierarchy of the classes, the pompous teachers, and even the perverted seniority many of his older classmates carry with them. The only reason he was here was because of her. Rin.

Rin Himura. The same woman who constantly teases him to sheer embarrassment in front of others. The same woman who atrociously shot one of her students. The same woman who can turn into a completely different person, one of petulant and plight. The same woman who saved him back in UA. The same woman who showed him the true meaning of being a hero. The one who taught him the loving nature of the argent snow.

The one who he loved dearly.

Even now, walking through the corridors of the campus, hearing the rumors of the classroom incident be spread around so casually, it sickened him. Hearing what Rin said, what she did, what everyone is saying about her. It makes him feel vile, makes him want to do vile acts.

Yet he loves her dearly.

Matsuru grumbled as, behind him, followed a conglomerate of students. Kaiga, Yusuke, and many others (namely from the Hawkes Agency) tallied behind him like ducklings to a mother goose. In truth, much about this did not sit well with Matsuru. It was he that instigated the conflict in 1B, a class he has no real authority over. And because of his actions and implications, others suffered punishment while he did not. Matsuru has read many stories where the protagonist was falsely implicated of crimes. And while they ran, an antagonist chased them down. Whether by order of sickle or scepter, they must capture the protagonist. An innocent man. For a crime they did not commit. Why? Because that was how the story was written.

And in this story, he held both sickle and scepter in his hands like a mad tyrant. In his mind, he was the antagonist.
This did not sit well with him.

And yet, Matsuru did not say much. He marched on with the orders he was given like a good soldier. No matter the doubt in his mind or the pit in his stomach, he put one foot in front of the other and ordered around hero's-in-training like a sergeant to his inferiors.

We were not soldiers.
We were meant to be better.

Analogies, metaphors, and references filled his already clouded mind. The bickering between Kaiga and Yusuke dulled out like a muffle echo in a storm. He sighed to himself in a way only he would hear "I want to see Rin."

He brought the students to detention like the good little soldier he was.

Just Another Hero [Invite-Only]

In many ways, this whole series of events would be classified as a, putting it simply, "fucking disaster".

Even as Matsuru stood to throw his book, his mind was racing with warnings. Don't do it, He'll copy your quirk, and You know this will end poorly blared like alarms in his mind. Yet still he acted. He yelled and threatened one of his juniors. Yes, Yusuke is a dam idiot, someone Matsuru does not hold in high regards. But still, it would not justify the actions he took. Under all his anger and frustration, he felt pity and remorse. He kept his face in an angered state to help mask his feelings of regret. When some of the students of 1B came to reprimand him, he welcomed it. "Listen to them. Calm down and listen to them." Matsuru took a deep breath and begun to deactivate his quirk, the light from his eyes fading to a dim glow.

When he thought all of the tension would pass, his gut tightened into a knot. His eyes, now fully iridescent in an indigo glow, saw some telltale sings from Rin he was all too familiar with. A sudden, distinguished chill nipped at the nape of his neck. Her soft expression sharpening. Her very aura changing. Thanks to his quirk, he was able to identify these changes much quicker than anyone else in 1B would. He knows what these signs mean, she's changing into that thing. He's seen it some times before. Namely when Matsuru almost missed their anniversary due to a last minute assignment being given to him from Endeavor's Agency. In a flash, he lowered his body and rushed forward, out of the cone of attack. He didn't know what would come, he just knew he needed to dodge.

What Matsuru didn't expect was for Rin to pull out a gun, of all things. He saw her point it at Yusuke, now completely engrossed in multiple copies of quirks, and shoot at him from an extremely close range. Now closer to the front of the room, he saw as Yusuke dropped to the floor (most likely unconscious) and the entirety of Class 1B erupt in a flurry of emotion.

He considers himself a learned man. Given his progeny and potential, he was always blessed with the best education and tutors money could buy. Hell, he even entered both UA and Eirei through recommendation. But none of his years of training and numbered encounters in the streets could have prepared him for these series of events. In truth, he froze up. His mind ablaze, cognitively working overtime partly due to his Quirk trying to absorb the multitude of unforseen events that occured. It wasn't until one of the students, Kaiga, yelled for him to follow. Why was he carrying Yusuke? Oh, yes, probably to take him to the nurses office. Why was I supposed to follow? Rin probably asked me too.

He purposefully ignored all the commotion and comments being thrown around. He was already in a heightened state of agitation, the last thing this class needs is another of his outbursts. As he moves to follow Kaiga, he passes by Rin. He leans in and whispers in her ear "Meet me at my dorm after your class, lets talk."

~~=~~

The walk to the nurses office was, for lack of a better term, uneventful. Matsuru, now fully composed and back to his normal observant self. Held a pensive demeanor. Much of his mind was filled with the series of unfortunate events that followed his outburst. His focus was broken once Kaiga broke the silence.

"Um nice weather we're having right"

A chuckle escaped his lips. He allowed himself a small smile. This boy... He's heard much about him, namely through the grapevine from the other first and second years. A fanatic of his former employer and family acquaintance. A kindhearted gentleman with a true sense of camaraderie and brotherhood. A hero with a sense of "street-smarts" and an awareness not learned but earned. If Matsuru had to akin him to sonething, it would be a Hearth. A strength of a flame yet a homeliness little could match. Even now, the poor boy is trying to make small talk. Matsuru found comfort in that.

"My apologies, Kaiga. It was inappropriate of me to act in such a way, much less in front of my Juniors." He looks up to the first year and offers a quaint smile. "I do believe this is out first time speaking in a personal setting. I am Matsuru Yaoyorozu. I have heard much about you, Asagumo-Kun," He would outstretch his hand.