(no subject)
Title: Power (I'm too, too creative.)
Series: 02.
Characters: Ken/Kaiser.
Rating: Oh ho... PG?
Word count: 290. (From an original 411- go me!_
Topic: Binge.
At some point, it consumes him.
Power.
He feels it pulsate through his body with exhilaration, like a small seismic wave. No longer in the shadows of Sam, no longer among the pathetic adolescents that are his school mates, no longer Ken. This was him, this was real, and this was electrifying. It becomes his driving force to awake in the mornings, the idea of seeing the fear and terror imbedded in all those little monsters' eyes. Exhilaration crackles within, static and pure. Everything is black and white to him. There is no grey area, and this is how he likes it. Everything in his control, in his fingertips, ready to be moved and maimed at will. There's those who he'll keep around and those who he will immediately rid of, unless he feels like drawing out the process for his own amusement. Depends on the day.
Hit after hit, blow after blow, it strengthens. He can make or break their happiness. He can dictate whether a Digimon will live or die. He can hit or miss the winning goal. Everyone looks up to him, because he is, of course, the quintessential leader.
And as he falls asleep, he pictures the fear in their eyes, he sees the static and he feels the power. It amps him up and he no longer sleeps, just thinks, imagine, derives joy from their desperate pleas, and he even begins to shake, like it's caffeine running through his veins instead of pure adrenaline. He lives for it.
Soon after, he burns out. And so he sits, drained, and assumes Ken again. And he anticipates for the moment where he can once again fall backward on those electric, euphoric waves and drown.
Patiently, he waits.">
Series: 02.
Characters: Ken/Kaiser.
Rating: Oh ho... PG?
Word count: 290. (From an original 411- go me!_
Topic: Binge.
At some point, it consumes him.
Power.
He feels it pulsate through his body with exhilaration, like a small seismic wave. No longer in the shadows of Sam, no longer among the pathetic adolescents that are his school mates, no longer Ken. This was him, this was real, and this was electrifying. It becomes his driving force to awake in the mornings, the idea of seeing the fear and terror imbedded in all those little monsters' eyes. Exhilaration crackles within, static and pure. Everything is black and white to him. There is no grey area, and this is how he likes it. Everything in his control, in his fingertips, ready to be moved and maimed at will. There's those who he'll keep around and those who he will immediately rid of, unless he feels like drawing out the process for his own amusement. Depends on the day.
Hit after hit, blow after blow, it strengthens. He can make or break their happiness. He can dictate whether a Digimon will live or die. He can hit or miss the winning goal. Everyone looks up to him, because he is, of course, the quintessential leader.
And as he falls asleep, he pictures the fear in their eyes, he sees the static and he feels the power. It amps him up and he no longer sleeps, just thinks, imagine, derives joy from their desperate pleas, and he even begins to shake, like it's caffeine running through his veins instead of pure adrenaline. He lives for it.
Soon after, he burns out. And so he sits, drained, and assumes Ken again. And he anticipates for the moment where he can once again fall backward on those electric, euphoric waves and drown.
Patiently, he waits.">