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What is a Hero?

Of all the things Salim expected to happen that day, one of them was not being bellowed at by a beast of a man that stood a whole foot taller than himself. The already considerably tall youth watched the source of noise; a huge ridiculously costumed sort with antennae lifting away from his temples. Who was this uncle? Why was he shouting at him? And was he born at that gargantuan size?

<EUROS> listened patiently as the large stranger explained his unrequested point of view about heroes.

Something about hero flavors; it might explain why the folk around this area kept talking about them with such fascination. Salim could have been wrong in thinking of the typical form of hero and actually, it may have been a very popular food item in the neighborhood. In which case he would have to make sure he took them home as souvenirs if possible. Further hearing, however, cleared any suspicion that ‘Heroes’ was possibly the name of a local delicacy. It wasn’t - To the East Wind’s disappointment.

As the sudden lecture neared its end, the agent caught a question being asked of him, realising he had to engage with the odd uncle, he lifted his malachite eyes to fix onto shadow cast ones and reflect the blonde with an answer of some sort... with which, in his usual accented voice, he replied:

“The folk here keep mentioning it as if they’re the current most popular celebrities... maybe it is a local phenomenon- but that’s why it came to mind...”

The evidently elder man’s next question made Salim pause in thought. Did he dislike the concept of heroes? Images of hot dusty streets came to mind, stone walls the only thing offering some coolness until the afternoon sun turned them into baking obelisks. A sea of sullen and defeated looks painted the expressions of orphans and vagabonds alike as they lay strewn across the dirt expanse... somehow he recalled looking into the distance, towards the rocky path and even skyward... anywhere... before wishing helplessly and begging for someone to save them and introduce him into a world where death, disease, and war weren’t going to claim his life at any turn - one where he didn’t have to spend every waking moment wondering if he was going to return to his few friends in a single piece. It turned out that in the episodes of mania, he had cried out for help aloud and just as he did, an old man laughed at the naivete. That some magical being could arrive from dust to help them with no expectation of reward or payment was, according to him, one of the few wonderful things a child could even consider believing even in such terrible circumstances. The old man had also added that it was a matter of time before that kind of fanciful thinking or hoping would stop coming to mind soon enough... and he was 100% right.

It just didn’t happen like that. And even when someone... something DID save him from that dire life, it was the furthest thing to heroism. Despite all this, however, he did not dislike the concept of an all-good selfless hero type - in hindsight, it was at one point, the only thing he had wished for; but now having lived a little more, he could gather his own conclusion and so he decided on his answer;

“I don’t hate the concept of heroes... I just hate... the circumstances and the system... that makes someone need one”

Muse Preferences

Please repost, don’t reblog

BOLDED is an obvious or initial preference. Italics is a second-thought or unconscious predilection.

Open curtains | Closed blinds Stray dog | House cat People | Pets Outside | Inside Half-empty | Half-full TV | Radio Sing | Dance Shoes | Sandals Cash | Credit Hike | Drive Casual | Elegant Center | Corner Sword | Shield Airplane | Boat Fizzy | Flat Garnished | Plain Extra salt | Extra pepper Spicy | Mild Record player | Digital media Opaque | Transparent White lies | Complete truth Blunt | Subtle Noisy | Silent Books | Music Familiar | New Youth | Experience Spoon | Fork and knife Knife | Baseball bat Space | Ocean Bow and arrow | Blow dart Love at first sight | Slow burn Freckles | Dimples Long eyelashes | Long fingers Soft lips | Sensitive neck Stubble | Thick hair Slow dance | Intimate conversation Candlelight dinner | Stargazing

Tagged by: @watashi-ga-kita Tagging: @checkmatejoy , @chiiryoshi , @pilawforhire and anyone else who feels like doing it! 

Danger

One... two... three. They both lifted the cupboard as quietly as possible, slowly and carefully moving it out of the way and it was going well too--- until a single shelf from inside seemed to slide against itself and dropped hard to the floor, the sound rattling out through the broken doorway.

Shit.

The footsteps below stopped and suddenly silence seized the building, every breath an overbearing noise before finally, Salim took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and with a nod, he prompted them to drop the wooden container. It hadn’t even touched the ground before there was a thundering of footsteps from below marking the ascent of a troupe of thugs. The agent was already grabbing his accomplice’s arm, pulling him fiercely towards the exit which lead them to a flat roof, his wide eyes scrutinising every corner for a safe escape and they finally locked eyes on one down the fire escape... but it didn’t look like it had passed a health and safety check in decades. It would have to do, however.

“This way!!!”, he motioned the writer towards it, before turning back towards the door and grasping for a makeshift weapon to arm himself with – they were on the group’s turf and they had to be ready for anything, so a very unsturdy broken pipe had to suffice. Turning back towards their only salvation, they lowered themselves onto the tired looking steel frame, moving down the equally exhausted staircase and it would seem their freedom was not too far... until there was a loud “WE GOT US SOME RATS HEADING DOWN”, was hollered loudly over the entire property.  

It didn’t take moments before a few of their pursuers jumped down onto the escape, making the entire frame squeal in protest, a very evident shudder from the weight. As they hurried downwards, there was another thump as another thug made the jump. A dark head of hair whipped backward, hands grasping for support just as he looked up to witness the entire fire escape begin to buckle under the weight of far too many people. It was collapsing, with them ready to be crushed underneath. Salim dropped the makeshift weapon he had found and just as they were turning towards the last two stacks of stairs, grabbed Daiki around the shoulders and prevented them both from losing their footing before tugging him instead towards the railing.

“It’s coming down! We need to jump!!”, Salim’s words demanding in tone, and before the gentle writer even had a chance to retort, the East Wind threw them over the railing, just as the roof crashed against the one below, the momentum adding distance to their drop. Luckily they were closer to the floor than could have been and an agent’s quick movements meant that Salim had shouldered the bulk of the blow, the two of them rolling across the asphalt and finally coming to a stop as the collapsing fire exit erupted into a dust cloud.

Salim moved quick, gritting slightly as the feeling of taking too much weight on one shoulder made him tense before flight or fight kicked in and suddenly, he was pushing Daiki up, hoping the boy wasn’t hurt and camouflaging any sign of distress on his part. They needed to split while their angry house owners were dealing with being caught up in the commotion;

“We need to get out of here...! Are you okay to run?!”