#abilities.accepted

knowing what other people could do with their powers, yukihiko thought nothing of his own seemingly mundane ability. gifted with psychometry from the day he was born, yukihiko quickly and fluidly adapted to the concept of logic at a tender age. he learned—and seen firsthand—that there was always a reason for something. he never had to ask why.

all it took was a single touch to find out what it was.

having used psychometry ( to an excess ) on his parents to understand why they’d said certain things, he developed a reservation about using psychometry on people after finishing middle school. if not the intimacy of knowing of someone so deeply, the invasiveness of it all discomforted him immensely. for the rest of his teenage years, he exercised psychometry on inanimate objects to satiate simple curiosities—( did he lie about not touching my bag? were these eggs really cage-free? god, who broke the vending machine? ).

for both objects and people, yukihiko is able to read and enter memories from years ago as if he was physically there. these memories come in brief flashes, in which he must concentrate to sift through each one and to enter it. despite being able to enter a memory, he is strictly limited to what the person recalls and does not gain what the person was thinking or feeling.

to the outsider, he is seen remaining still with his eyes closed, brows furrowed in effort. the passage of time in the memories is much quicker than real life: yukihiko can experience a full 24 hour period in someone’s memory in just two minutes.

objects are usually no problem, but he is unable to follow its history down to a molecular level. using psychometry on people, however, takes a physical toll on him. he describes it as the feeling of his head being dunked underwater—the deeper he ventures into someone’s past, the more air leaves his lungs. though yukihiko has come to the conclusion that he may be able to hone this part of his psychometry by learning how to control his breath, he has yet to test it out.

psychometry, however, is mostly still whatever to him. he does not actively talk about his ability to most people, but he does not hide its existence if he is asked about it. it was useful when he worked part-time as an art museum tour guide; sneaking a touch on each piece so that he could provide vivid storytelling for visitors. despite graduating from college with a degree in computer science, yukihiko ultimately ended up overstaying his welcome at the art museum.

after being recruited to work as an investigative assistant, he’s left his gig at the art museum. granted it’s taken him 28 exhausting years, but he’s coming to embrace psychometry through learning its applications and just how valuable it is.

APPEARANCE

yamazaki kento — specifically with a middle part and shaggy, neck-length hair.

It began slowly. A flicker of light that was easy to miss as Sage laughed with the girl he loved. Then again while the two kissed beneath his grandmother's willow tree. It was a soft glow that would vanish as quickly as it arrived. Easy to ignore until one fateful afternoon that began like any other. The two were at his home, taking full advantage of the empty house. They failed to notice the way her fingertips left trails of light along his skin, or the way the soft glow brightened and dimmed in time with his heavy breaths. It wasn't until the light stopped dimming and instead grew steadily brighter that they noticed something was very wrong.

At first, Sage was horrified. As far as he knew no one in his family had any sort of ability, and certainly no one glowed –Or at the very least, no one talked about it. In fact, had it not been for his girlfriend, his relationship with his ability would be far different than it is today. She saw beauty in what he could do, and with her support he grew to accept and eventually control it.

In the beginning he would light up whenever he felt a swell of a emotion and as a result his parents quickly pulled him out of school –afraid of what people would say or do if they knew, but in time he learned control. Although occasionally he still slips up here and there –usually when he is flustered or embarrassed. (If you get him worked up enough a faint glow may accompany his blush.)

Over the years, he's learned control and has tried to test the limitations of his abilities in secret to avoid potentially hurting or blinding someone. While his ability isn't something he advertises, he has used it once in his culinary school years as a drunken party trick. (He cracked his back and glowed like a human glow stick.) Something he may repeat again if you get him to drink enough shots. For the most part, however, he keeps his ability to himself and uses it only in the privacy of his own home. Usually when he's reading at night or in the rare occasion when the power goes out and he needs a bit of light.

As far as limitations, he isn't aware of many. He hasn't allowed himself to see just how blinding his light can be, but does notice that if used too often or for too long it can be quite draining resulting in the need of sleep and/or a good meal. That being said it isn't the coolest or most useful of abilities. He can't do things like control storms or lift cars off of babies so as far as he is concerned it's fairly useless. Save for the occasional blackout or nifty party trick, of course.

( tw. body horror )

mateo's abilities manifested just before high school started. growing pains were eating away at his legs and his ability to do anything but lie in bed and groan in pain. he was a short, chubby little kid but mamá swore he’d shoot up like a beanstalk and lose all his baby fat. she was right, two weeks before his first class in the dead of night, his pains got a hundred times worse; screaming out in pain, he felt like his entire body was stretching and it burned. «cállate, tarado!» he remembered his brother whispering from the other bed and mateo instinctually responded with matching vitriol. the next morning, he had grown. far too much for one night, and horrible, ugly, stretch marks had worked their way from the back of his upper calves to his mid-thighs. mamá had panicked, rushing him to the doctor in spite of their dwindling funds and sobbing when nothing was to be found.

over the years, mateo did grow into his physique. friends asked his secrets, they worked out too — they wore makeup too! somehow, no matter how much they tried to change, their physiology just couldn’t match mateo, who got exactly the result he was looking for after just a few times! at the gym twice? «wow, you are so much stronger lately» a quick contour? «your cheekbones are to die for.» the praise would shift when they saw him next; faded silvery scars wrapping around his biceps like vines; awful red marks stretching from his eye to his temples. doctors explained it away with a poor ability to maintain diets and excess cortisone levels. how do cortisone levels explain his nose healing itself in three nights — from broken and bent to exactly how it was before? how, when he pulled at his skin, it would stretch until he got bored or afraid and then smooth back into place at his mere will? men can grow until twenty-five, but even mateo knew that it wasn’t normal for people to be able to change their body, features, voice, smell. maybe, when he was finally grown the awful, aching pains would stop, and his body would stop stretching and tearing over old marks that had just lost their purply sheen. with age comes stability, right?

it did not, but moving to boston helped him discover that his skills were very useful in making people happy. i mean, what’s a gal to do when your client really wants a busty blonde and you’re a messed up male? change it. some of the clients just got off on the change itself, watching his body warp and twist to their whims like some disturbing doll. it took a few minutes, depending on the intricacies, but that just made it last longer — a positive when you’re paid by the hour. he liked his job. it was fun; it tested his limits; he’d always go back to how he was before, a few extra stretch-marks, a wad of dough sitting comfortably in his back pocket, and a roof over his head. plus, it kept him off the streets (at least in one sense of the word), and his specialist clientele meant he never had to do anything too fucked up. all around, a good deal.

mateo is sure he could stretch his ability further, if he wanted to; he’s not just sure, he knows. he knows because a week after he brought his little kitten home from the shelter, he looked into the mirror and had fucking slitted eyes. it took him forever to change them back, hours upon hours of panic and then dealing with the judgement of the shelter worker when he had to bring her back.

further problems arise on the days he is in too much pain to work, the bone-deep ache spreading throughout his body. the days where his own skin just doesn’t seem to fit his skin right, no matter how hard he changes himself to fit and it just looks wrong. when his own i.d. photo isn’t of him, because he is too embarrassed to have his fucked-up scarface on state-issued documentation.

APPEARANCE

Mateo is a second generation Mexican-American. He has a warm brown skin tone and large, upturned eyes. His entire body is covered in stretch marks at various levels of healing and he has a relaxed, shifting stance — his knees slightly bent so as to avoid pressure on either. He has dark brown eyes and jaw-length wavy brown hair. He has an average nose, very slightly bent to the left. His entire body is dusted with freckles which are heaviest around his chest and shoulders. He is slim and about 5’10”. His arms are slightly toned, but more from malnourishment than effort. He has boney, long fingers, which would be perfect for piano. In his own form, he usually wears loose, long-sleeved clothing — comfortable AND functional.

ADMIN NOTES: i appreciate the unconventional take on shapeshifting !! it reminds me of the more darker portrayals of werewolf changing where it isn’t always quick and painless. i’m also intrigued by the aspect that mateo has less control over their ability than one would expect : that degree of wanting to look like someone else or someone else’s desires dictating their change is a really interesting addition. welcome !!

HEALING OTHERS: the biggest application of his powers, samson can heal others as long as he has physical contact. different factors affect how effective the healing is: every use takes energy from samson himself, and overdoing it can have dire effects. smaller subjects are easier to heal, even the more severe injuries, whereas the larger ones tend to take a greater toll (for example, a plant, cat or baby could be brought back from the brink of death with little to moderate effort, whereas a fully grown adult or an ancient tree would require significantly more energy to heal). larger injuries also take more time, and more time means more energy - over the years samson has gotten to know his limits and what he can reasonably accomplish with his powers while still being able to function, with a few exceptions.

the biggest sign that samson is healing is the golden light that seems to radiate from his palms, veins emanating a soft glow halfway up his forearms. the healing itself differs from person to person, but the most common description is of a warmth that spreads from the wound, accompanied by a violent itching that lasts for a few excruciatingly long seconds. for more serious injuries it feels more uncomfortable; there is an absence of pain but also something not quite right, the expectation of agony that is dragged out for much longer.

on a usual shift samson is wary about advertising his powers; while boston may be more accepting of abilities, there’s a fine line between doing his job and being vilified for it, no matter the good intention. so his intervention is subtle, used in worse case scenarios or ones in which he knows he can get away with it. there’s still a part of him reluctant to embrace who he is fully - a fear only exacerbated by the current climate and past experiences - but recently he’s struck up a deal with the longest night’s owner at the persuasion of his childhood best friend.

a nickname bestowed, ask for “apollo” at the bar and samson’s help is granted, a room out the back let in exchange for helping out with event nights when he’s not on call, his own makeshift infirmary. this way he can help without risking his personal life (once before he’d had to move when word spread from neighbours about his ability after a charitable act and the harassment to ‘ do more ’ threatened both his home life and his job), future ideas to expand just beginning to form.

HEALING HIMSELF: ironic for one who’s become adept at healing others, but samson struggles to consciously heal himself, save for the occasional hangover and papercut. it’s not something many people know about him, as on all fronts his subconscious abilities do enough that he very rarely requires healing. samson can’t remember the last time he was struck down with a cold or fever, and any injuries he does get tend to mend themselves far quicker than the average human. that’s not to say he can’t get ill, but it would take something major to overcome his immune system.

this regeneration of cells also contributes to how he can seemingly run on a lot less sleep than is required. often pulling double shifts or running into overtime, 4 hours of sleep tends to be all he needs on a daily basis, unless he’s consistently over-exerted himself or used a lot of energy on his powers, in which case recovery usually takes at least half a day.

APPEARANCE

JORDAN FISHER: while he’s rarely clean shaven (think jordan’s look in HSMTMTS), samson always takes care of his appearance, never looking unkempt despite his overly busy schedule. when not on duty, he’ll sometimes paint his nails (which often chip thanks to his bar work), and wear jewellery he wouldn’t otherwise be allowed to as a paramedic (most often a small gold nose ring and earrings).

          with proper training and dedication, aerokinesis would allow evelyn to manipulate the air around her, including the wind, to do whatever she pleases. this can include propelling herself in all directions, like upwards, by using short bursts of winds and even being able to cause objects to float. on a more sinister note, being able to manipulate air would mean that evelyn is able to control the airflow of all living things around her.

         however, since she has only somewhat recently discovered her abilities, she still has limited control over it. currently, she can only float smaller-sized items -- like keys and hairpins -- and is able to use just the slightest bit of air to make running just a little easier or make her seem like she is drifting whenever she jumps in the air.

          in the meantime, evelyn intends to keep her ability a secret and practice on her own to avoid being seen as a menace to society, especially since she is aware of how dangerous it can be. nonetheless, as she slowly gets the hang of it, she can sometimes be seen subconsciously floating small items in her hands or catching things more easily before they fall onto the ground. despite this, if you ever ask her about it, you would be met with a puzzled look and a simple shrug of her shoulders.

APPEARANCE

JANG GYU-RI — specifically when she had brown hair with blonde tips

          astral projection, at its core, is the ability to separate one's consciousness, spiritual, or astral form from their material body. in doing so, the persons material body is left, well, defenseless whilst their consciousness is vividly aware of what's going on around them. the astral world allows them to... in a sense, be in two different places at once. the ability has made artemis extremely aware of everything that she does in her day to day life, a lingering fear that even with the slightest touch she may be able to knock someone away from their material form.

          when artemis' ability first manifested itself, it was when she was in the middle of studying for an algebra quiz and god, was she tired. it was nearly 11 pm, and she knew if she stayed up any longer her parents would get on her about it in the morning and so, she went to bed. but, something weird happened as she was falling asleep... she could see her sleeping form but artemis... artemis was awake - she was more alive than she had ever been in her short time that she had lived at that moment, and she loved it.

          of course, when she tried to tell her mom what happened, her mom chalked it up to her having a dream - nothing more, nothing less. this was something that when she was younger, she only practiced in the confines of her room, slowly getting more and more proficient in her skill. as she got better, the time it took for her to project into her astral form lessened and she could even slightly move things in the physical world.

          but her perception of her ability changed drastically one fateful night of her senior year - it was homecoming, she had a football game, a dance, but what had her mom and dad done, well, they grounded her which led to an ugly dispute between the three. when artemis was getting ready to walk away from her mom, all she could feel was pure anger. when a hand was placed upon her shoulder, she shoved whoever it was away from her and that was when she saw her mom's consciousness essentially leap from her physical form. at first, artemis legitimately believed she had killed her mom - this had never happened before... she had never even attempted something like this before but... here they are, her dad watching in confusion as he watches artemis panic. and somehow, in all the panic and confusion, artemis got her mother's consciousness back with her body and... well, it's safe to say she was able to go to homecoming that night.

          the small family never talked about what happened that night - it was something artemis was... embarrassed about and frankly, it's something she has only attempted to do a couple other times in her life. she heavily used her astral form throughout college - studying to become a doctor isn't an easy feat, so allowing her physical body time to rest whilst her consciousness still studied was something she took advantage of (only only her roommates weren't around). she doesn't flaunt the ability, in her eyes its... weird, and she feels like people would only see it as a party trick.

          plus, with the ability there comes numerous limitations. the longer, more extended periods she found herself stuck in her astral form it seemed to be harder to get away from the astral plane, almost as if her body was getting stuck in that realm. not to mention, her body is completely helpless the entire time she is astral projecting. while doing her nightly study sessions in astral form during college, she also noticed there were many side effects that her material body were having - she didn't feel connected to her body as much as she had, and it was almost like her body was beginning to reject her consciousness, but through a prolonged period of her not astral projection for hours at a time, artemis was able to bring back that state of homeostasis.

APPEARANCE

CRYSTAL REED — in gotham !!! the long, dark hair paired with the clothes they had her in... everything about crystal in that show screams artemis to the t.