Did you know half my lies are told with good intentions?

Definiton: Overacting, hammy performance, playing to the audience. From the French "Cabotin" - a strolling player / charlatan.

[cabotinageking]

(this is entirely @killingsim ‘s fault. i’m going to have to redo my verses just to add this.  the context is- remnant verse? remnant au. this is so cursed and feral im so sorry)

Footsteps echoed across cold concrete. The whirr of machines could be heard under the pulse of pop music. If you listened closely, beyond that, you might hear a giggle echo through the grimy air, light feet dancing over the rooftops, the pop of anything from soda bottles to explosives. 

It meant one thing, and that one thing was good for absolutely nobody. 

DICE were out.

A series of city maps and pipelines were spread over a desk in the center of an empty restaurant- a building that was bustling during the day, during the evening, but in the dead of night was empty- except for the overly dramatic candlelight flickering over the plans made inside, for the clowns crawling over it like trussed-up gargoyles. A spread of delicate desserts laid out on a nearby table, decorated with confectionery glitter. The leader of the group grabbed a strawberry puff and stuffed it in his mouth as he surveyed the maps again, ignoring the muffled noises coming from behind him. 

“You said he took the bait, right?”

A girl who was by no means old enough to be out this late, let alone in the sort of company she was keeping, nodded once, an almost dreamy smile settling on her face. “We probably have a few hours,” she said softly, flicking a curled ponytail over her shoulder- pink butterfly hairclips contrasting with the blood soaked into her straightjacket uniform.

What sort of monster would drag children into a mess like this? 

Kokichi leaned over absent-mindedly to ruffle her hair, a gesture that might have been sweet in any other context- but this was no kindly older brother, just a leader and his adoring followers, crowding closer, eager for approval. “Excellent,” he said, withdrawing his hand to clap, to spin around with a twirl of his cloak that threatened to blow out the elegant candles. “Well, knowing my beloved Saihara-chan, anything could happen! So, group A- positions, now. Waiting at the ready.” Chin tipped to the side, for just a moment, that childish smile flickered into something darker. “You won’t let me down, will you?”

Hastily tripping over themselves to comply, the group scattered over the building; some slipping through windows to climb onto the roof, some darting through the roofbeams, some tucking themselves into nooks and crannies or hanging from the outside walls. DICE was made up of kids and runaways, people easy to induct and difficult to protect- but Kokichi wasn’t just any leader of strays. Once upon a time, he used to run from the police, escape by the skin of his teeth, struggle to keep ten teenagers housed and fed and happy. He used to set up city-wide pranks, guerilla performances, art projects that were still standing even now.

He thought a little bigger, these days.

“Group B, collect the machines. I want the explosives set up with time to spare. Get to it!” He clapped his hands twice, cheery and sweet, and watched the rest of them scurry off to get to business. Left on his own, he paced through the center of the restaurant, humming along to the music he was playing, picking strawberries from a glass bowl and sipping champagne mixed with cheap soft drinks. They don’t tell you this, but supervillains end up with a lot of downtime on their hands when it comes to waiting for their pin-striped heroes to show up. Kokichi usually used this time to plot ahead for future events- Saihara-chan was just so picky about chasing him, so Kokichi liked to give him several leads a day- even if he usually only ended following a few throughout the week, when Kokichi directly interfered in his cases. He complained about the inconvenience a lot, but how else was Kokichi supposed to get his attention when he was always ignoring his other invitations?

Trailing his fingers through the mix of berries, Kokichi finally glanced up when the muffled sounds started to rise above the music. He raised an eyebrow, swinging away from the table to bend at the waist and stare at his guest with all the cheerful invitation he could muster. 

Center-stage, middle of the restaurant, the trapped man seemed to have woken up enough to start to struggle, trying to raise his voice above the tape on his mouth, pull away from the ticking devices strapped to his limbs. Kokichi gave him one of his brightest smiles, tucking his arms behind his back. “Look’s like sleeping beauty’s up and present with us,” he called to the others, walking over to stop right in front of the man. Leaning down, he flicked him on the forehead, letting out a little laugh. “Bet you’re pretty confused, huh? Well, I have good news and bad news.”

Raising a finger, he tilted his head to the side. “The good news is that I’m not your original kidnapper- or even associated with her. In fact, depending on what my beloved detective is currently up to, she might not be a problem for you anymore.” 

The smile on his face sharped, darkness crossing over his eyes. “The bad news is that I’m much, much scarier.”

Immediately, the man began struggling again, tugging at his restraints, trying to make guttural noises in the back of his throat. Kokichi sighed and turned away, his voice similar to a disappointed child’s. “If he doesn’t shut up, someone cut out his tongue,” he complained, twirling a finger through his hair. “He’s ruining the atmosphere.” Sure, he was usually in the mood for screams that died into pathetic whimpering, for the look in someone’s eyes as blood dripped from their ears, for the ways they tried to bargain with him as he played games to win their fingers. But tonight was supposed to be special- he was in such a nice restaurant, and he’d got a really good game planned, and he was hoping it would all be- dare he say- romantic. Just him, and his detective, one of them holding a knife, dancing over a chessboard- maybe if he was lucky, Saihara would win the game and decide to linger anyway…. Maybe he’d make an attempt on Kokichi’s life just for him to slip away at the last moment…. It was going to be perfect. 

Unfortunately, someone trying to whine past their duct-tape gag was going to ruin that atmosphere. Kokichi wanted this hostage to stay delicate and fragile in the center of the room, like a good damsel in distress. If he had to sedate him, that was fine, but he’d prefer he were conscious to watch the dance between villain and hero, to desperately cheer on his perceived savior, before Saihara crossed over to collect him… Hey, there was a reason Kokichi liked him so much.

“Boss?”

Stirring from his daydream, Kokichi reached for a knife and flipped it from hand to hand. “Mm? What is it? A message from my beloved?” He batted his eyelashes.

“It’s from… the Warriors of Hope, boss.” The boy fidgeted in some kind of eager anxiety- he must have been about the same age as Kokichi, but had at least a foot of height on him, which was probably why his posture was so bowed.

Kokichi waved a hand carelessly, turning away to pick at the bowl of strawberries again. “I said I would visit them this weekend. I’ve got important business tonight.” And he did- it was so tricky to get to Saihara’s cases before the detective himself did. Having a live victim here was a rare opportunity, and Kokichi was excited to see what the detective would do for the right to reclaim the man. 

He couldn’t see the boy’s face anymore, too busy gazing dreamily at the berry juice staining his fingers. 

“Monaca specifically requested you tonight.”

The smile slid off his face like butter. Red dripped from his hand. 

“She said you could send some of us, instead, if you wanted.”

Kokichi raised his hand to his mouth and sucked the juice off thoughtfully. It tasted oddly metallic. 

“I guess I miss those little scamps, too. Tell everyone to get back to the base,” he sighed. “It’s no fun if I can’t watch. Just blow the place in the next hour and run some of the videos for Saihara.” He considered his options as he bit at his own skin. Rearranging his face into another signature smile, he twirled around once more and walked over to pat the boy on the shoulder condescendingly. 

“Make sure you stay in touch with me, okay? Just leave everything as it is and go home. But let me know if anything weird happens- who knows if Saihara-chan might finally snap and decide he wants me dead for real.” Kokichi swooned, holding a hand to his forehead and dramatically falling back, forcing the poor boy to lunge forward and catch him before he hit the ground. “I’ll have to come back immediately if he tries anything…. I can’t risk missing my chance for him to finally catch me!” 

The boy stuttered fevered agreements as he set Kokichi back on his feet and fixed his cloak, looking away from him in nervous adoration. That was fine. It gave Kokichi a moment to think ahead.

It wasn’t Saihara he was worried about.

[chiaki-amami]

Danganronpa art!!

[ctrlaltkibo]

I’ve made a server for Dangan roleplayers (and those with DR verses) to hang out and chill. Anyone interested?

[markvomit]

[gt-r-deactivated20200602]

oh you don’t want me? Only because I look unhealthy and speak in riddles?

[dicegremlin]

i wanted these sets for a while and now finally have them 👌👌

dice ids: wiz dice ghost jade and cherry blossom

[cabotinageking]

@ctrlaltkibo​

│⚙️│ Nothing through the floating rumours and words around the school halls gave away the impression that a certain someone was planning something quite mischievous. Not to say Kiibo was totally unaware to such a thing; one of his classmates was notorious for pulling pranks on the student body. A joker, if you really wished to refer to it in the tamest way. The robot never dreaded his appearance, however, for this classmate was still a friend regardless of his actions. Sure, he could never fully trust the words that left his mouth, but he did trust in their bond.

As it was lunch period, most of the students were making their way to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. This was quite unfortunate for a being who couldn’t eat; he had no real reason to be there aside from watching others enjoy their food, and from personal experience he knew that most people did not like to be stared at while they tried to enjoy their lunch. A few students lingered around the building, paying no attention to the robot passing them as he tried to find a relaxing place to sit out the lunch period.

That was his intention, until the sound of a familiar voice called to him from down the hallway.

“Hello, Ouma-kun. My apologies, my hearing was turned down specifically in case you chose to scream at me down a hallway. I am thankful for my forethought in planning ahead,” Kiibo responded, finding himself mirroring Kokichi’s sly grin with a smile of his own. He was clearly enjoying the fact he was able to produce sarcasm better than when he had first started attending the academy. However, the robot did eye the supreme leader in response to his oil comment, showing he didn’t appreciate that…but he’d take it in stride, for the time being. “Well, I am quite pleased you could rely on myself and my skills for your issue. What is it you need help with?”

Kokichi’s bag jangled with the sound of something stuffed full of loose objects as he threw his hands around the robot’s arm and shook it, eyes quickly pooling with tears. “Huh? Were you trying to ignore me, Kiibo?” He sniffled once, which for Kokichi, was the sign of oncoming, overly-obnoxious waterworks. “I c-can’t believe you would do something so cruel, I.....”

And then, swiftly, he cut off and pulled away with another grin and a snicker, the tears disappearing as fast as they came. “Hey, you’re starting to figure out jokes, Kii-boy! I’m so proud... Seeing as I’m the only one with any kind of humor in this whole academy, I think I can take most of the credit for that, right?” He said it so overly-cheerfully that it was almost impossible to take it as anything but sarcastic, but to be honest, Kokichi was a little proud. And yeah, he did think he deserved some credit for teasing his poor classmate so frequently. He was certainly significantly less suspicious of Kiibo now that he was 98% sure he wasn’t some kind of government spy.

“Welllllllll, the sitch is this- next period’s history class was cancelled.” Kokichi planted his hands on his hips and leaned in like a reporter sharing his latest hot story. “Which means that classroom is going to be completely empty from now until last period- it’s locked, obviously, but I can get us in. I plan to redecorate the entire thing.... it’ll all be stuff people can clean off, don’t worry, you big nerd. But I only have one pair of hands and it’s such a biiiiiig classroom.... I won’t be able to do it by myself!”  The supreme leader dropped his grin and swapped in an innocent mask instead, tilting his head and clasping his hands together. “You’ll help me, right? I would ask Iruma-chan but she was too busy trying to outrun the six crocodiles I had my organization set out to hunt her. That’s what’ll happen if you say no, by the way. Crocodile time. Wow! I really want to see a super cool battle between a robot and a mutant crocodile. Would you use your machine-gun arms if it were life or death?”

[agblend13]

🎠🎡🎢🎪🍭🍿🎆

[fishmum]

Local emo drives his disaster friend group to McDonald’s.jpeg

[cabotinageking]

‘ you’ve been like this for how long? ’ // for the sick meme; pregame shu&kokichi. what if i... sent YOU a meme... as a treat maybe? haha jk unless. please god i just want something wholesome

Kokichi, standing in his doorway, sneezed, and followed it up with a glare that might have been intimidating if he weren’t wearing knee-high fluffy socks and had a blanket draped over his shoulders. 

“A few days, it’s fine. My parents will be back soon.” Ish. To be honest, he wasn’t exactly eager to call them home. The house was quiet, he had free roam, and he was missing school- really, if it hadn’t been for the pounding headache, the sore throat, the general weakness and fatigue he was feeling, and the uncontrollable need to sniffle and sneeze- it would have been the ideal situation. He’d already binged through about six seasons of Danganronpa (and slept through most of them.)

“More importantly,” he began, narrowing his eyes and pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “I specifically told you not to come over or you’ll catch it. You can survive without me for a few more days, weirdo.” The insult came out far too affectionately for his liking- he blamed the headache. But he’d be a liar- more than he already was- if he said he hadn’t missed his friend. They’d still been chatting online, just like before they’d even met in person, but it really wasn’t the same. Particularly when you were always cold and the idea of having another person with you was…. really kind of nice.  He reached up to rub at his red nose but continued to attempt the glare, eyes narrowed at the boy just outside his house. “I’m fine, I still have some painkillers left. I’m just going to try and sleep it off.”

[cabotinageking]

mun simulator! (pride edition)

tagged by: @killingsim

tagging: aaaaah anyone who hasn’t done it!!! genuinely if you follow me and you haven’t done this.... pls do it and show me i would lov to see!

[cabotinageking]

@killingsim​

“I-It’s…okay, really. It is a shame I didn’t kill or see my own execution. But at least I got what i’ve always wanted! I got to see all those gruesome deaths in action! See my own face fall into despair… just to get back up! Their method to a detective type was different this time around, but of course, I wasn’t disappointed or anything. Not one bit.” Shuichi pulled himself together, too. The smile that deviously wrapped against his mouth barely hesitated, sweaty palms pulling his device in front of them. Also like a gun, though his threat was accidental. 

“…No, you’re wrong. You used to be my only friend, Ouma-san. The only one who would ever… listen to what I have to say. But neither of us were happy with what we were. We only had one option left.” A pause. 

“But i’m glad you’re still in my life. Even if it’s like this.” 

He liked to think he knew how people worked. He was good at games; even games of chance, and he knew there must have been some reason this lonely figure turned out so twisted. Absent parents was as good an excuse as any- Kokichi had seen it plenty of times before.  He hadn’t seen anyone quite so supportive of it, though- and again, there was that flash of Saihara- a calm sort of reason in the middle of a trial that made sense to everyone but Kokichi. See where your faith in others has led you. 

Persona. The word made Kokichi twitch. He filtered most of them, past anything that might trigger emotions, simply sifting through for meaning and filing them away. Confirmations. New questions. 

He glanced about, skepticism clear on his face. “People with normal lives don’t sign up for killing games,” he said, blankly, as if it were just an assessment. As if it didn’t make his stomach roll. 

It would be stupid to say that the next words gave him hope- so he wouldn’t. Working hard didn’t mean anything. Even if this Saihara put in all the work in the world, the person Kokichi knew wasn’t coming back. “Gonna set up your own agency?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, finger pressed to his cheek. “Saihara Shuichi- murder cases only, please. I’ll find your killer and make sure to put them away.” A dig at him that might have worked if he were someone else- someone who Kokichi watched confess to a gentle Akamatsu his fears of truth and accusation. Kokichi could imagine the furrowed brow- the look Saihara got whenever he put his foot down. He always liked that- fighting with someone with a firm hand. Twisting against each other, truth and lies, darting back before Saihara could surprise him.

(Saihara surprised him a lot. It was what he liked about him so much.)

Kokichi slowly lowered the finger against his lips, but continued to grin as if his heart wasn’t choking him. This wasn’t Saihara, this person with their heavy breath and their bright eyes, but that look- invasive, searching- it fixed him in place, made him wait with anticipation for the analysis of his words, to see what the detective would make of him. He waited- his breath silent, caught in his throat, as the other panted.

And then he was frozen. 

 Standing there, with that stranger-who-isn’t-a-stranger, it became apparent to him that he missed Saihara. This Saihara, the Saihara who isn’t- there was no fascinated patience in those eyes, no desire to look through his lies for the sake of truth. This Saihara looked at him like he was an oddity, something to be appreciated for the lies themselves, not whatever they were hiding. Kokichi had been waiting for him to come out of the game- for some conversation that left both of them unsatisfied, one last chance to …. Be seen? Even he wasn’t sure what he wanted from it. 

But that was never going to happen. Saihara Shuichi disappeared thinking of him as nothing more than a tragic villain who wasn’t smart enough to succeed. 

Anger flared, hot and violent in his chest, fire licking up his ribcage. Kokichi had perfect control of his emotions, though, if nothing else- he rolled with them when necessary, expanded them for his act, never felt things half-way. Sometimes he might suppress them, when they weren’t useful, but right now- what’s the point? “I don’t. Have a talent.” He gritted out- and he meant it in more ways than one. “If you really think I’m some kind of all-powerful super genius-” he cut off for another laugh, the nishishi that came out quiet and low. “-Then I really did fool you. ‘Corner you psychologically?’ If you don’t want me getting in your head, Saihara-chan, then you just have to be smarter.” He tapped his fingers against the side of his head and smiled as if his bones weren’t burning. “I’m the ultimate supreme leader- not the ultimate psychologist. Play it a little smarter, would you?”

He felt vindictive, words biting into this false Saihara, stepping up to face him, lifting his chin. But the next phrases made him cold, frostbite creeping up his arms, numbing his fingertips, hatred like a ball of lead in his stomach. “Shut up,” he said, quietly, viciously, curling up his fingers until his nails bit into the skin of his palms. Praise for that fucking show- the thing he had given everything to try to destroy, every piece of his humanity, every person he loved, every truth that no longer mattered. “Are you really stupid enough to think I care about your opinions on your murder show? You really think-”

It was rare that Ouma Kokichi stopped speaking mid-sentence. But staring at the offered phone, he went quiet for long enough for Saihara to speak. It was a cruel joke. It was horror dancing up his spine like a spider. Kokichi was quiet for a few moments, his face blank. 

“Stop calling me that,” he said, voice uncannily soft. “If you’re glad I’m here, at least act like it. Give me some pretty lies, mister detective.” Give me anything but this.

[zarathustra-would-be-proud]

[spacecadetxo]

[cabotinageking]

@killingsim​

“I already knew you rather well before the game, like you said. Perhaps too well? Considering we were...” His flushed face must’ve told his answer for him. Shuichi wasn’t completely naive, though. He was fully aware of what Ouma might’ve seen.  

“…But we both threw our lives away when we got accepted by the team. We knew what… we were getting into. I don’t think you have to worry about it too much, Ouma-san. No, it’s not like I cared much about my life to begin with…”  

Kokichi had been warned, before he was even in a state worth considering visiting what was left of Saihara, that he was going to be… challenging. He’d expected this. He’d known what he’d find- a rabid fanboy, definitely not a detective, and based on what he’d found when searching through his past possessions… some kind of ally. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to hear, in that voice that was soft and calming and steady even when everything seemed to be falling apart. In a voice that he’d had to try very, very hard, to stop from sinking into his skin and pulling out all his secrets. Every word was just another reminder that it wasn’t Saihara- just some twisted facsimile of him. 

“Now you’ll never ever forget me, for the rest of your life-” he’d said that when he thought he was heading for oblivion, when any attention from Saihara burned, when all he could ask for was remembrance- not even fond. Just any thought of him to linger beyond the caricature he’d forced himself to be.

He wasn’t gone. But Saihara might as well have been. But still- but still- 

“I would have thought it got pretty repetitive after fifty-three seasons,” Kokichi said dryly, walking through the painfully empty house. His footsteps almost echoed on the floor, reminders of how quiet and cold the place was. If he were weaker, he would have cringed at the way not-Saihara talked about his parents. But his expression stayed firm in place, walls still up. 

“You say that like they’re not taking you with them,” he said, tilting his head just a beat to the side. “You’ll need the money, you know.” A pause. “Hey, I’ll tell you a top-secret part of my ‘backstory’ if you want, okay?” Kokichi turned away, staring out over the empty room. He didn’t need to see his companion’s face to know that the offer would be eaten up. His gaze drifted as he spoke, mask dropping for just a moment. “In my backstory, my parents hated me- they gave me away when I was still a toddler, because they got sick of me. Weren’t ready for kids, I guess. That’s why I built my organization- I learned preeeeeetty early on that you can’t trust people just by virtue of familial ties.” Another pause, before he turned back, pulling up a smirk as he moved, fixed on his face before he could even look up. Lifting a finger to his lips- a gesture he didn’t remember the origin of. “But that’s just a lie.” 

Not that it would matter if it was- or if it wasn’t. Every single thing about his past was a lie, and the evidence was staring over at him like he was a cosplay come to life.

He held out the phone insistently, watching Saihara splutter. This was expected. The second charm wasn’t- it threw him off, just for a moment, but it also confirmed everything he’d panicked over all at once. He inhaled, slowly, but kept the smirk on his face- no embarrassed smile, no ducked head, no pulling at bandages or twisting his hair- although, for a moment, it felt like he should. 

Instead, he laughed. He laughed so hard he had to sink back against a table and clutch his stomach, staring up at Saihara with crocodile tears in his eyes. “Wowww, that must be such a disappointment to you! You survived- and you didn’t even kill anyone! Or get killed! And now here you are- do you even remember it at all? Or is it really just a show to you?” Pulling himself together, Kokichi gestured at himself. “And now, here I am. You’ll hurt my feelings, Saihara-chan. You didn’t care about your life at all? Does that include me?” 

He pouted, almost swaying across the room, phone and charm slipping somewhere to be forgotten, until he was standing toe-to-toe with what was left of his detective. “And here I thought we were so close.”

[purbl-princess-deactivated20220]

[badasspinkprincess]

🦄💎