https://picoworkers.com/?a=6afd0d6d

izzy's playlists!
noise dept.
occasionally subtle
One Nice Bug Per Day
Peter Solarz

Kaledo Art
cherry valley forever

blake kathryn

oozey mess
DEAR READER
Claire Keane
ojovivo
RMH
KIROKAZE
Show & Tell
Misplaced Lens Cap
Sweet Seals For You, Always
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Andulka

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Australia

seen from United States
@chromaticallymonochrome
https://picoworkers.com/?a=6afd0d6d
Restless Blame | Dai | Closed for Amelie
Right. Dai had been practically running about, making sure people were getting to the cooled rooms. Teddie’s room was off-limits which made things hard, but it was okay. They had others - presumably all four of the others.
Amelie. Right. She needed a room and she needed someone to take care of her in case something went wrong. His room hardly made sense, but he already had a Pietro and Robin. Neither of those two would desperately need the bed hopefully.
Right. Right. Head on, Dai.
Swiftly finding out where she was, Dai went to tell her about the arrangements.
“Pierlot-chan?”
He spoke softly as he hobbled in, using the wheelchair to help him move. Thankfully he’d thought about taking it so Amelie could use it - he wasn’t sure if there was another around.
“I think we’re going to need to move you. This heat isn’t good and it’s best to move you while it’s still… somewhat manageable.”
It was... All a big blur, really.
A deafening ringing in her ear, followed by a painful piercing sensation on her abdomen — and only a couple seconds later, consciousness faded out of her, and it all became a big blur. A giant mess of screaming and vaguely identifiable faces running towards her as she rocketed towards the ground. No pain, no anger; there wasn’t enough time. As in less than a minute after the bullet broke her skin: It all went dark.
Minutes, hours, days... Hell, it could’ve been weeks for all she’s aware. Bright lights waking her, her eyes adjusting as her head shakes from side to side. She’s lying in a bed; not the most comfortable one at that, but definitely a bed. And as soon as she tries to ascertain her surroundings: The pain hits her. Her whole body is sore, but her stomach hurts like hell. Her hand immediately goes to reach for it and the texture of bandages remind her of her previous time awake. She withdraws a grunt of pain as a voice rings out for nearby, her eyes looking for the source.
“W-Who’s...” Her voice is soft and quiet, the faint french accent already noticeable, most unexpected from the assertive personality on the chatroom. “Ah... H-Hi... Mr. Ko.”
She shimmies up the bed, trying to sit, being stopped by the pain. She notices the sweat on her skin; strange — she feels cold. Her semishut eyes glance around the room.
“W-Where’s... Where’s t-this?”
📚Page 1 || Hiroshi Miura || RE: Prologue (Open!) 📚
Being accept to the most renowned educational institute in the world? Ok. Partaking of a cultural festival in the shoujo-esque way possible? Ok. Receiving messages in that old app you still had in your phone for some reason? Ok. Doing exactly what the person says? Where’s the harm on this? Well, it seems that Hiroshi Miura has miscalculated his actions when he did that because now he is in an amusement park. How did they go straight from the fourth floor of Hope’s Peak Academy to this place? The answer was unknown.
The black-haired male’s neutral expression was still present in his face as he walked through the place. Yes, his classmates were there with him, some he had spoken already and others were completely new faces to him, although the name was to his knowledge. What is happening here though? This is the most important question and the Book Club President wasn’t sure what was the answer for that question.
“Hm… Ok.”
Ok? Was that it? It seems to be so… Hiroshi walks around the avenue, his eyes being fixed to the words on the entrance right before their eyes. Welcome to Oasis. What is Oasis? An amusement park? A band? A safe haven for those who wander around the desert? The more the tall male comes to think about those things, more questions seem to pop up.
“I will get to the bottom of this.”
Again, just another simple statement from the man’s behalf, but meaningful. Would anyone want to talk to him while he looks at those words in the entrance? Again, another question that is in need of an answer.
Static. Her ears were overwhelmed by static. The upbeat, cheery tune, faded — to her, now infinitely distant. Her mind swirled, her eyes quickly scanning from left to right as her body refused to move. She was deeply uncomfortable — a deer, just cornered by a pack of wolves. It took a while until her thoughts made sense again. Her inner voice muttering a million different questions at once. Her stance stiff. The short-lived seconds of silence allowing her to catch a quick breath.
From the barrage of information her adrenaline-filled brain managed to absorb, the white noise in her mind began to coalesce into some useful data: The time of day and the clear passage of time, the individuals around her and their familiarity, the distant vegetation, road deterioration, etc; It wasn’t enough, though: Logic is a near perfect machine, but you still need to fuel it if you’re looking for that perfect end product. She needed more. More data, more fuel. More... Something. Anything.
She flinched, a nearby voice now added to the data pile. “Get to the bottom of this”, she turned back as she hears those words. Her eyes still overflowing with distrust, she turns to the black-haired male now in front of her. A quick glance, top-to-bottom. As worried and guarded as she may be, the man appeared sensible, no immediate threat detected. And those words he uttered weren’t one she’d let slide. She inhales deeply.
“So...” She exhales. “Have you noticed it yet?” Her voice is soft and distant, but incredibly objective. She gives the male a sideways glance.
Danganronpa: Showtime!
⬖ The show’s about to begin. The stage awaits. Are you ready? ⬗
Danganronpa: Showtime! is a submission-based roleplaying group all around creativity and the twists and turns of the entertainment industry. As twenty students of Hope’s Peak Academy are removed from their daily lives, they find themselves captive to - oh, who would’ve guessed? - the one and only, R͏̴͢ķ͘̕͞͡u͟͝͞Ȩ̀͞͡D̸̷̨̡͢À̸͟r̨̢̀͠͠o͏̧̨́͟ ̛͞͠͠s̢̡̛̛͡e̶̛͝҉͟k̢̕͜͝͝C̶̛͠T̛͢a͡҉̡̀͞Ę͡D͜͜͡i̧̧! There’s little time to ask for autographs, however, as their intense journey was about to begin. A journey full of effort, talent, and consequential violence and blood. And as the spotlights turned on for the first time and the crowd began to cheer, something deep inside their minds buzzed - and they immediately knew…
“It’s Showtime!”
Danganronpa: Showtime! includes:
Original and Interactive Story!
Several Endings!
New, Intuitive Mechanics!
Interactive Environments!
Three-Week Schedule!
Discord OOC-chat and pregame!
Submission-based Trials!
⧉ About ⧉ Apps ⧉ Mods ⧉ Rules ⧉ Submitted ⧉ Hopeful’s Chat ⧉
Deadline Drawing Near!
So, this will be the only and last warning! Today, by midnight (GMT-3), we’ll have reached the deadline. So, if you want an extension, this is your last chance! For anyone who doesn’t request it, you have twelve hours remaining: Good luck!
-Mod Chroma
{//} And, we’re back! After finishing up “My Haven”, I decided to jump onto another project, this one more sided towards celtic, “epic-trailer-music”, as some would call it (even though it’s absolutely not); The sound in this one isn’t great, the plugins I managed to find for the string section is pretty average, but it’s the best I can do without putting down a few hundred bucks on professional samples (which I don’t think I’ll be doing anytime soon, unfortunately).
{//} Hope I can finish this one as well ;w;
“I’ll make you a promise, deary: By the time these waters turn red, you’ll wish for the feeling of someone watching over you at night.”
Danganronpa RP Group (Futuristic & Dark Setting) – Apps Opened.
APP |-| ASK |-| SUBMIT |-| ABOUT
Update - FAQ
Updated the about page with a FAQ! Hopefully this should help the folks wanting to app understand some things a bit more effortlessly, and– Oh, God… What happened to your letter?!
tw; blood.
“I’ll make you a promise, deary: By the time these waters turn red, you’ll wish for the feeling of someone watching over you at night.”
Danganronpa RP Group (Futuristic & Dark Setting) – Apps Opened.
APP |-| ASK |-| SUBMIT |-| ABOUT
“I’ll make you a promise, deary: By the time these waters turn red, you’ll wish for the feeling of someone watching over you at night.”
Danganronpa RP Group (Futuristic & Dark Setting) – Apps Opened.
APP |-| ASK |-| SUBMIT |-| ABOUT
“I’ll make you a promise, deary: By the time these waters turn red, you’ll wish for the feeling of someone watching over you at night.”
Danganronpa RP Group (Futuristic & Dark Setting) – Apps Opened.
APP |-| ASK |-| SUBMIT |-| ABOUT
Smooth Criminal | Edgaras | Prologue Start | Open
That response was too quick… The slight sigh only intrigued Spencer more, although he heard nothing, the slight parting of the mouth was enough of a giveaway sign for his studying eyes.
So… This guy had secrets… How utterly captivating.
“Spencer England, Journalist.”
Spencer would not bow. He would only bow to those he respected, and right now that was nobody. What a shame.
“So, one of your parents had eyes the same colour as yours? How far does it go back in your family? Generations? Or was it acquired by your parents? It isn’t a very common colour, I must say. I wonder, how was it developed? Genetic mutation? Experimentation? Bodily reconstruction?”
I am so sorry. He doesn’t know when to stop.
It was about that point in the conversation where the researcher’s expression, yet still physically unchanged, started exerting this eerie nature that people attached to his being. His dead stare phased to accommodate an intense look of disdain; He waited for the other’s words to completely stop reverberating off the shopping’s cavernous halls, he let out a heavy breath, keeping the stare true.
“Journalist, you say. Yeah. Fits you well.”
Breaking the eye-contact, in a snap, he glanced backwards, over his shoulder, to something unknown by the end of the hall. Few seconds later glancing back at the other, exhaling yet another sigh.
“I apologize for my manners, mister England, but I’ll have to leave you to your inquiries for the time being. I have matters to attend.”
He began turning his back to the journalist.
“It’s been a pleasure.”
So was it -- the researcher began walking away, not a single wave of goodbye, not bidding farewells. For his timely disdain, something tells him that they’ll meet again, however. “Until then”.
“I’ll make you a promise, deary: By the time these waters turn red, you’ll wish for the feeling of someone watching over you at night.”
Danganronpa RP Group (Futuristic & Dark Setting) – Apps Opened.
APP |-| ASK |-| SUBMIT |-| ABOUT
Crimson ocean, óh, crimson ocean.
The tiny voices in thy waves entwine their names.
As the louder voices shout out through the flames.
Thy reign slithers upon the grains between their toes.
As with thy help, I feel our blade slash thy foes.
Crimson ocean, óh, crimson ocean.
Thy faultless touch, none other as nonesuch.
My dear, I beg of thee,
Carefree of the ones who claim you as the most frightening sea,
As your one and only heir,
May we please never, never, put an end,
To this beautiful nightmare?
APP |-| ASK |-| SUBMIT |-| ABOUT
Boredom || Mia || Open Starter
“Rather courteous, Mr. Sachiko? I don’t think that /I’m/ the courteous one here.”
If the blonde even noticed it, she didn’t show it in any way. The seamstress herself thought it was a good idea to treat things carefully, specially in a situation like this one. Despite her carefree attitude, it was not hard to tell she was careful around people. Well, most people.
“Did you? I can only imagine… Maybe such a pretty boy should be called Ed-chan. Or Eddy-chan. Eddy-senpai…”
Now she was just teasing him. A soft giggle escape her lips as she returned to her seat, only now sitting in a closer one to the new acquaintance and facing his direction. For a few seconds, her eyes strained as she looked at him, a cryptic expression taking place, but it didn’t take longer than a moment for her to shake it off again.
“Sorry, just teasin’ ya. I’m not callin’ ya Eddy-chan, for now. If we are to become acquaintances, though, I’m afraid Edgaras will be too long of a name to scream, though…”
/Mia/
It wasn’t often for the researcher to find one of “these”. The type that subconsciously insists to use mannerism he continues to fail to understand. The teasing was bearable, he had it infinitely worse, he was numb to name-calling in general -- but the confusion he restrained while wondering why on Earth would someone he just met need to shout his name was... Stressful;
“ Scream? Why’d- ...”
His expression froze, as he stopped midsentence. An “oh” out of epiphany escaped his lips as he remembered the pages of a very specific science journal he read a while back -- it wasn’t his favorite topic and the writing was uninteresting, so, he dropped it midway. But this occasion in particular brought a phrase back from that, from a study by a middling “scientist”, sexologist Debby Herbenick, which read: “In a coordinated experiment, it was found that auditory stimuli during intercourse was shown to have effects beyond of any other-” and it continued on to whatever scientific revolution Edgaras was sure she uncovered; On that point forward, the confusion, but almost morbid curiosity stamped on his face was rather prominent, when juxtaposed to his natural deadpan.
“As it stands, I’d still rather go with Edgaras, pardons if that happens to cause any trouble.”
The response seemed almost as if perused, the measurement of each word carefully calculated. Not enough, perhaps.
Boredom || Mia || Open Starter
“Well, ain’t it nice to have a change of plans sometimes?”
Tilting her head slightly so the seat wouldn’t obstruct her vision of the new acquaintance, the seamstress also took her time to analyze him. With the lightest tint of surprise showing up, a small grin slowly formed on her lips. Mia got up from her seat, and approached Edgaras, taking one of his hands and placing a soft kiss on top of it.
“Mia Sachiko, Seamstress. It’ll be a pleasure to meet you, Ed.” - Mia let go of the other’s hand, taking one or two steps back. - “If you dislike nicknames, warn me. It’s almost unavoidable for me, heh.”
“Rather courteous of you, miss Sachiko.”
Regardless of formalities, there was a very well-defined tint of apprehension to his voice, becoming of the fact that, specially in such dire scenarios, politeness can be awfully suspicious -- even if the other, by itself, doesn’t strike him as dangerous.
“I’m not particularly fond of them, admittedly.” He inhaled slowly. “I’ve heard worse than Ed, however.”
He said, taking a half-step, leaning himself on his left foot, bending his posture backwards slightly.
{//} Update on this. Almost two full minutes, it’s already bigger than most of my projects, which is good! More progress to come on the future. ;3;