halo of agonies. (ap)

what if i………brought this blog back

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Born from a scientific "experiment" forced on a disrespectful scientist by an angry Meloetta, Louis Kain (formerly Louis Otowa) ended up having it lucky. He was desperate at first, having come into the world from a test tube, with nowhere to go and a strange musical Meloettan ability running out of control through his vains. Fortunately he was taken in by a woman who understood rather than punished (@interpoldirector)--a woman who had spent much of her life dealing with godly and other supernatural beings, and who had always wanted children. The "Classicaloids" were a perfect match for her: they were just like any other kids who needed a caring parent, but unlike other human parents, Kain wasn't scared when they lost control of their powers. From a very young age he loved music, but often found himself losing control of it. Director Kain provided necessary emotional support, and Pokémon provided hands-on help with containment. His first Pokémon, an Empoleon, was not so much his starter as much as hired help--it was brought in because its Steel typing and amazing defenses could resist his Psychic capabilities--but they grew to accept each other as partners rather than mentor and student. Soon he had many of his own Pokémon that he could share his powers with, but even though he was eternally kind and open around them, he could not say the same of humans. He did badly in conservatory--he too often took constructive criticism as an insult. They kicked him out, so he went to Pokémon training school to spite them. The Pokémon training school he went to was extremely competitive and extremely controlling, the second of which Louis resented--he wasn't the type to let others control him--so he went to a rival school in order to spite them. He soon ditched that one in epic style à la Fred and George (because if you think he got along badly with his teachers he got along worse with his fellow students.) Teacherless and happy that way, Louis began to teach himself--the art of war and the art of music. He proved his mettle by sweeping the Lily of the Valley and Lumiose Conferences in quick succession.

You’re a monster when you’re angry.

that was the truth, wasn’t it? someone who could rend human lives to blood and dust in a flash--what else could you call that? what else could you call a man so far past salvation that he could not create a full and beautiful living being, as easily as his fellow classicaloids? what goethe said was true…the devil could never create in GOD’s perfect images, only warped and twisted parodies…what sort of love or life could come from a man, however transcended, whose primary purpose it seemed was to kill?

he wasn’t just a monster when he was angry. he was a monster.

❛ you’re going to fight me because you wish not to put pants on? ❜ 

an idiot, this man was an idiot. for all his musical genius, it seemed as if beethoven was severely lacking in his ability to come to a sound conclusion about anything else — ❛ do you want to make a hit? it isn’t really fair if i’m expecting anything, so — perhaps i’ll allow you a sneak attack. ❜ bach took note of the crimson aura, a huff escaping him as he turned his back to beethoven ( indulging this sort of activity was wrong, but the other required a lesson & a lesson he would get ), a sign that he wasn’t too worried about the situation — he wasn’t too worried for his own sake. beethoven’s? that was another story.

❛ in the end, this is childish & you know it. you are not mozart & this is something more along his lines. stop acting like a petulant child, it’s not becoming of a new god-figure. ❜

         ❝childish, is it?                unbecoming, is it?❞

oh, he wasn’t angry anymore. slowly his frown curls up into a great, grimacing grin, a wild smile reminiscent of the way a beast bared its teeth. 

         ❝now i see what you are. HA! tell me--                  who is the true god? the one who bends and bows              to the customs of beings beneath him? or the one                   who boldly stands against the outcries of inferior sensibilities?              when you say this is not becoming of a new god-figure,                     whose standards do you bend to? Who was it who invented                the pants you hold so dear--and why should we listen?❞

his baton sprang into his hands. he lifted it and pointed it at the middle of bach’s back as the first movement of the eroica symphony began to play--

         ❝We should not. We as gods and artists should do as we PLEASE in a world so far beneath us--perhaps YOU are undeserving of your nature, if you believe we should repress it!!❞