I Think Its The Potential Neurodivergence

I think it’s the potential neurodivergence

Universal Events: 10 Boys, One Crown, One Down

CHAPTER ONE: YOUNGEST 9

Prologue

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Chapter 2

TW(FOR THE ENTIRE BOOK): (Violent) Death, intense gore, depression, slight ableism (SOMETIMES)Keep reading

NNAMDI'S PERSPECTIVE

For as long as I could remember, I'd never gotten a full night's rest. Just because my room was situated above all of my brothers' rooms didn't mean anything was quiet, ever. There was always some sort of activity happening somewhere in the castle, and all eight of my brothers' rooms weren't an exception, far from it. Even if by some chance all fell silent, I wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep for fear of something being wrong.

But on this fateful day, The Fifth Youngest of The Loshi-Loshaj sons, Devlin, had decided that 8AM was the perfect time to crank up the amplifier and see if he could wake up everyone above him in the 10-story building with his electric guitar, scraping his pick up and down the ridged strings before ripping it up and down the strings to the melody of the same songs all of us knew by heart by now because of how much he played them. Once Devlin was locked onto a song he liked and knew how to play it on his guitar, the music wouldn't ever stop. Before where the chorus would have been in the song Devlin was playing—a loud grunge song with chords that seemed to change every three seconds and riffs I couldn't imagine playing, even if he claimed they were easy— I could already hear a chorus of 7 voices spitting different demands, even someone— or multiple someones—stomping aggressively on the floor. I gave up resisting and felt around for my phone on my beside table, knocking a few things onto the ground and swearing before I felt the cold, cracked screen of my phone and grabbed it. I dragged my hand to my face and fumbled with the passcode before texting the group-chat. The clicking sound of my keypad barely audible above the yelling, stomping, and the now halted guitar.

Nnamdi: 'Hey can you guys shut up'

Rio: 'Sorry :('

Devlin: 'K'

Dharma: 'Alr'

Chancey: 'yeah DEVLIN'

Devlin: 'SHUT'

Devlin: 'I will send THE chicken ur way i swearrr'

Chancey: 'Which one lol'

Kaede: 'ooooh'

I silenced my phone before a round of offensive banter began in the group-chat and planted my face back into my pillow with a sigh as the noise in the house ceased to its usual morning bustle. At that point, I was too awake to go back to sleep. I rolled over and rubbed my eyes as I tried to adjust to the sudden burst of light from my phone and the window as I stood up and steadied myself. I could tell no one else was able to fall asleep after what just happened, I could hear everyone else below me stirring and beginning their day as well.

I was never sad or angry at my family, I loved them dearly in fact—down to Sir Burnt Toast—so much so I dreaded a sliver of a thought of their deaths crossing my mind, even if it were of old age after a long, fulfilling life. I was content. Content with my family. I wasn't a smiley person, not a frowning person. Just a content guy with a content face and a big family, and I was ok with that.

Another thing I've never had— and never had a problem with— was a full dining table. Someone— if not multiple or everyone— was missing from a seat, and it was too awkward to sit alone with my dad when he was here, so I usually walked back upstairs to my room with my usual plate of the same food fitting my persnickety tastes. I didn't consider myself a loner despite being the obvious odd one out from the rest of the family. I often find myself wondering if everything would be better if I had even a bit of magic, even if it were something useless. I'd read books about people who didn't have magic, but they were scarce and poorly written by authors with magic. I've long since accepted it, but sometimes it did send a pang of sadness through my heart and a lump rising in my throat like fresh dough ready to be cooked.

Before I could finish my thought, a chicken— formally dubbed Sir Burnt Toast by Devlin, Chancey later convinced him to add the 'Sir' part— pranced down the hallway, her claws making the tiniest clicking sound on the marble floor. She clucked as a greeting before stopping at a trimmed bush in a white pot with teal flower details to investigate and peck at the small leaves next to the exit door to one of the many porches on the main building.

"Morning, sir." I nodded to the chicken as she wandered aimlessly around the corridor, her head twitching in every direction as if she were seeing this hallway for the first time, even though she'd walked down this hallway billions of times.

“Good morning, I guess.” Before I could turn around, I was cut off by Devlin slamming his palm on the back of my head, earning a throaty, exaggerated 'ack!' from me and sending me forward a few steps. He bent down with a hearty chuckle— trying to brush off the guilt of the fact that he sometimes forgot how strong he was and how he might've left me with a hand shaped bruise on the back of my neck— and scooped Sir Burnt Toast up and into his arms, her wings flapped for only a second before she settled into his arms as if to say, 'I know this guy, so I guess it's ok', her head still swiveling to look out of the windows and into the paintings arranged in rows on the walls. “Nerd.” Devlin added under a fake cough into his shoulder. I punched his arm in response, causing Burnt Toast to squawk and dig her nails into Devlin’s arms and chest. He winced and let her down, reaching under the sleeve of his black shirt and rubbing the white and blue marks she'd left from her claws.

"Thanks for the gift this morning. Dragging your pick thingy on your strings was the perfect way to start my morning."

"I can do it tomorrow, just for you." We both snickered at this and pushed each other lightheartedly.

I was the closest to Devlin in my family, even though we had little in common and he picked on me relentlessly. But even so, we stuck by each other like best friends— if we weren’t already.

Me and Devlin did have one thing in common: we weren’t appreciated as much as the rest of my family for our abilities—or rather a lack in abilities— by our brothers and father.

Everyone in the Loshi-Loshaj family has magic that comes in any form one way or another, except for me. One could create acid from everywhere on his body, one could create and manipulate electricity and lightning, and one could even spit fire—which was convenient for all of us, he’s an exquisite chef.

Devlin did have magic, but it’s completely useless and can't be used on command. Virtually all he could do was raise his body temperature enough to vaporize water in under a minute or so, which isn't any fun when it's 80 degrees outside and evaporated sweat stinks up the castle and everywhere else he goes. But at least he had the highest MRPB— Magic Rate Per Breath, the amount of magic let out with each breath which also determines how strong someone's magic is— at 92.32, setting him the highest on the domestic totem pole within our family, and giving him the most likely chance to be crowned next.

"It was quite lovely to wake up to... Whatever you were playing."

"They're called Pearl Jam, weirdo. A normie like you wouldn't get it." Devlin scoffs and tilts his chin up satirically.

"Aren't they, like, all dead by now?"

"They have been, unless they're immortal or something and can live for a gazillion years... Or something."

"Didn't they peak in the 1980's?" I said hesitantly, hoping I wouldn't get lectured for getting this bit of trivia wrong.

"Early 1990s." Devlin corrected without looking up, his wrist craned up so his middle finger could pet the back of Sir Burnt Toast's neck— who he'd picked up while I was trying to remember the melody of the song Devlin was playing this morning.

"Right," I said, "How'd you find out about them? It's been like..." I trailed off and pulled my phone out from my shorts pocket and opened my calculator app, punching in a few numbers. "16,975 years." I whistled and fumbled my phone back into my pocket. "How'd you even find out about those guys?" I asked with a raised brow. "I thought humans went extinct way before then."

"On some ancient website I found while scrolling on Krome looking for something to play. It's called, like, Wikipedia or something. Pearl Jam's music was hard to find on YouTube, but I've got, like, all of their songs on my playlist."

"Wikipedia." I parroted to myself and shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Sounds legit!"

"It's credible, too." Devlin said confidently. "If you were having a heart attack, I'd just ask Wikipedia for help!"

"How do you know that? We have enough money for an ambulance." I laughed at my own comment.

"Because I'm smart, and heavily educated." Devlin boasted. We both knew he was wrong. The Loshi-Loshaj brothers collectively agreed that Obi— The Second Youngest— was the one with the most passion and drive to learn everything he could. We'd often walk in on him— sometimes balanced on a step stool to reach the higher parts of the wall— doing some sort of equation on his whiteboard wall that looked like a foreign language to me. A clutter of science, math, notes about language arts and history here and there littered the wall top to bottom like shiny, colorful wallpaper.

"Says the guy who carries around his pet chicken all the time." I rub Burnt Toast's head with my fingers as the chicken clucks in response as she circles Devlin's feet. "Seriously, what is it with you and Burnt Toast?"

"That's Sir Burnt Toast to you." Devlin bumps my shoulder as the two of us exit the corridor and into the large, towering main castle space that reached high into the sky, with large gaping windows that overlooked the massive grounds of Loshaj Castle; the grass with colorful specks of flowers that Kaede tended to with nimble hands and attentive eyes, the variety of animals that roamed the soft grass Devlin spent the hours with, the huge spiraling tower that was built with Camille and his artistic skills in mind that overlooked every part of the castle— and that could hold the dozens of paintings and drawings he'd spend all night working on— the smooth, paved roads that went all around the castle grounds for Rio— and sometimes the others— to skateboard on, and the biggest library I've ever seen piled high with what could very well be every book in the world on towering bookshelves with sliding ladders attached to them, the kinds you'd see in the movies where the eccentric librarians would zip from one shelf to another without falling, and the open area decorated with everything a professor and mathematician could ever want for Obi.

The castle would never fall short of windows, like the architect had an obsession with stylized frames and panes double my height. But the largest window was a stained-glass window with our family crest on it; a long royal blue snake-like dragon spinning itself into a spiral with outstretched claws and red spikes on its back on a rainbow background of thick vibrant glass that casted a bright filter of blended colors onto the floor. The window ranked above the rest of the windows a few feet above a small yet sharply decorated plateau with a Bifurcated Staircase, that specific structure defined The Loshaj Castle and its pride as its own kingdom, pride was a huge thing in my family. We were held to higher standards than many of the other kingdoms in The Isle of Conagoda because we were the forefront of royalty, practically textbook definition. The royalty of royalties and the crested window of windows,

Everyone— by that I mean me and my brothers— called it something different: Double Pride Window, That One, The Rayquaza Window, Fancy Staircase Window, Giant-Hole-In-The-Wall, and The-Big-Rainbow-One-In-The-Main-Castle. I just called it The Window, and everyone knew what I was talking about.

I squinted and shielded my eyes with my hand as I walked under the radiant rays of the sun prismatically reflecting off of the tile floor and into my eyes until I felt the warmth leave my skin and the offensive lights ease off of my eyes as me and Devlin entered the spacious dining area: The huge kitchen connected to a booth where we'd sometimes sit to do our homework and a huge rectangular table with elegant chairs and an especially large one at the head for my dad. Zikhona was already in the kitchen, hard at work doling out meals for everyone at an almost breakneck pace while Rio sat stretched over the counter, watching with his eyes locked on a pot full of hard-boiled eggs as he waited to tell Zikhona when they were ready. It was small gestures like this that he appreciated, especially when he was as busy as he was now. A lot of pressure was on him to provide for his brothers, especially since he was the oldest of all of us.

Rio noticed us from his peripheral and glanced up for a moment, propping himself up on his elbows.

'Good morning.' He signed briefly with a small smile before turning his attention back to the boiling eggs with the same enthusiasm as before. He used both hands to pull his curly black hair out of his face in an awkward manner before tucking it behind his pointy blue ears.

'Morning.' I signed just before Rio looked back down. "Morning, Zikhona." I yawned and patted his shoulder as I walked by.

"Hey." He replied quickly, his speech stilted by his concentration as Rio alerted him, signing that the eggs were ready. There was the low hum of conversation behind the counter where Obi was reading a book thicker than his own balled fist, Camille was thumbnailing his new painting on some flashcards, Chancey was trying not to melt his fork with his acid magic, and Kaede and Dharma were debating about two of the newer artists that had risen on the charts and were neck-in-neck with each other in terms of popularity. Dharma was strongly defending a rap and pop artist while Kaede was trying to get a word in about pop-rock band. It surprised me— and most likely everyone else— to see every one of my brothers in the room at the same time, different shades of royal blue skin spread around the space.

"What's the occasion?" Dharma interjected with his usual silvery voice when his eyes landed on me and Devlin, his voice projecting through his conversation with Kaede while he was lecturing Dharma about why his defending band's music was revolutionary and was better than that of 'The Queen of Rap.'

"Dunno," Obi piped up, it was hard to hear from where he had his nose buried in his book. "Are we missing a birthday, a holiday? Or..." He trailed off, muttering a "Y'know" under his breath in a taut manner.

"No way!" This set something off in Kaede— as if he weren't already in a bad mood— and cut him off curtly. "Dad isn't even home from Greenleaf City yet, and it takes him forever to tell us who's gonna be crowned. Most of the time, it's a fake-out and he says something like, 'There's a crown for everyone!'" He grew more agitated with every word before resting his chin on the table and crossed his arms in front of him with a low growl. Dharma leaned away from him as Rio rushed over and softly patted his shoulder with caution before drawing his hands back to speak.

'Don't worry. He's just looking after us all! Plus, if you were to become king of Greenleaf, who'd take care of our gardens?' Rio signed, flinging his hands around quickly, growing almost desperate to mend the rift in the conversation with each gesture. Rio's empathy would be the death of him. When Kaede touched on this topic— or got agitated in general— it was best to back off and let him simmer down on his own.

'Whatever, just get out of here.' Kaede signed sharply, making Rio flinch slightly. I could see the harrowing regret forming in his eyes. He brushed it off, scoffing and standing up from his chair, the legs screeching on the floor as he stormed away and towards the hallway. Chancey dropped his half-melted fork on the table and blocked Kaede's path.

"Dude, you can't just walk all over people like that!" He raised his voice slightly, grabbing Kaede's shoulders to try and keep him from walking away

"Whatever." Kaede spat, jerking his elbows around to try and break free from Chancey's grip. Neither of them was willing to let the other go without a fight, even if it were mild and no one got hurt.

"No, you have to apologize for what you said to Rio," He shook Kaede a little. "It's nice!"

"Dude, seriously, let go." There was a pang of hurt in Kaede's voice as he thrashed his arms around even more.

"Are you going to fess up for your behavior?"

"Yeah, now let go!" There was an unusual desperation in his voice and a hiss from Chancey's hands.

"Why are you moving around so much—" Chancey cut himself off. He looked down at his hands and yelped as he tore them away from where his acid magic had been burning through the fabric of Kaede's shirt with a low hiss. A second or so later and it would've started to burn his skin off, but it only left two sizzling holes on his sleeves and pieces of burnt fabric on Chancey's hands. "Oh," he said quietly as the situation sunk in. "Wait—"

"Just shut up!" Kaede snapped and shoved past Chancey, making a beeline for the hallway where me and Devlin entered from. Chancey wanted to call out to him and cram endless apologies into his head, but he knew the damage was done and there wasn't anything they could do to make them stay.

Every time Kaede walked under the rainbow window, the colors would beam down on him, dampening his dark clothes vibrant hues, it'd usually be satirical to see every color of the rainbow turning black cargo pants, band tees, and layered studded belts into a statement piece— if Kaede's sense of fashion wasn't already one.

He rounded the corner, and a few seconds later, he stepped back out to cough up one last insult. "And I bet you all could find someone better at..." He shook his hands around as he tried to find the words he needed to insult—either himself— or the rest of his kin, "Watering and pruning stuff! I don't know!" I could hear the slightest shake in his voice with a rasp over it, feigning arrogance. None of us dared to comment on it.

There was a deafening silence in the room for a long while, not even the usually chatty Dharma had anything to say, he just drummed his fingers on his arm and sighed. Camille managed to ignore the entire exchange and stayed focused on his art thumbnails, but the angrier the exchange got, and the longer silence lasted, the more cryptic and sadder the thumbnails got. After he noticed this, he piled the flashcards together and shoved them in the pocket of his jacket.

"I'm going to see the view from The West Tower." He murmured in his usual, monotone voice before he himself stood up and headed for the French doors next to the kitchen that branched off to one of the many walkways that lead around the castle grounds, making a beeline for the tower where he would usually paint.

"I think The Queen herself just dropped a new song, I can't let the listening experience be delayed or something!" Dharma feigned an innocent contentment with a smile that never reached his eyes as he excused himself and slowly walked towards the hallway Kaede exited from, the rainbow-stained glass complimented his colorful outfits and ultramarine skin.

"I need to tidy the library." Obi walked out the back door and to the large building the furthest away from the castle.

"I need to let the dough rise." Zikhona sputtered and put everything in the fridge. There was no dough in sight.

Rio sped away up an L-shaped staircase to the third floor where his room was without a word or a gesture.

"I need to wash my hands." Chancey rubbed his hands together and headed for the bathroom.

"I need to, uh... Go check on the chicken— horses. The Chicken-Horses..." Devlin stuttered with an inconsistent distance between each word, still in shock at the exchange. Chancey had never actually hurt someone with his magic, even though it was destructive. He had little to no control over it, and we all knew that he'd never intentionally hurt someone with it. He practically ran away.

This left me all alone.

Sometimes it felt impossible to even think that all of us were so closely related and packed into what always felt like a castle that was too small for all of us, and how different we actually were. Sometimes it felt impossible to try and keep everyone together.

I'd never get the crown if dad said that he'd choose "The son of power and righteousness" instead of an equal opportunity for everyone.

Because at the end of the day, we're all at each other's throats.

FULL DRAWING COMING SOON WHEN I GET SOME GOOD LIGHTING‼️‼️

A true horror story😔

As Easter gets closer, please remember and spread the word that lilies are DEADLY for cats. "The entire lily plant is toxic: the stem, leaves, flowers, pollen, and even the water in a vase. Eating just a small amount of a leaf or flower petal, licking a few pollen grains off its fur while grooming, or drinking the water from the vase can cause your cat to develop fatal kidney failure in less than 3 days." Source and more info.

the public has spoken.

Also how tf do you close polls a week is too long and a day is too short I’m clickin the close button and the close button isn’t doin the close button clickin thing

freeze! ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ you’re under arrest for being so lovely. copy this message to 10 other blogs (if you want to~) that you think are beautiful and deserve it. keep the game going and make others feel beautiful 💛

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