Talk about freezing.
I’m currently chilled to the bone. 5 blankets is just not covering it.
almost home
KIROKAZE
d e v o n
Keni
RMH
styofa doing anything

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if i look back, i am lost

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hello vonnie

Andulka
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
we're not kids anymore.
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@legionofthemultimuse
Talk about freezing.
I’m currently chilled to the bone. 5 blankets is just not covering it.
I love her so much. 8’)
How does she evo anyway? Level up I’m guessing? (Been working through the alola dex bit-by bit)
hey yall i made a pokemon type quiz!! reblog with what type you are! i got rock type!! ;v;
Yeah, this is fitting.
Shadows Never Fade
Keep reading
Rose’s pursuit of her long lost lover proved to be futile after months of searching the dessert for even a trace of his body. She had survived the explosion, so surely the owner of the Red-Eye dragoon spirit would survive with minimal damage. It did not seem to be that way. The darkness dragoon feared that he had shielded her with his body, forcing him to suffer the brunt of the attack. Even Zieg wouldn’t have survived that, so she desperately hoped that that wasn’t the case and that he was still out there, searching for her like she was for him.
What she had convinced herself was a break from her pursuit was actually a mission for information. Lohan, being the biggest commercial town in all of Endiness, attracted loads of people. If she couldn’t find Zieg here, then maybe she could find information about him. That is what she expected.
What she didn’t expect was for her name to be called as she walked across the bridge towards Dabas’ shop. A silence fell over the town just as she stopped, her dragoon stone shimmering on her breastplate. Glancing down, she saw the silver shimmer of the Divine Dragoon spirit, and behind it she knew to be the previous leader of the dragoons.
Rose chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “You never were one for subtlety.” She pointed out, walking over to the edge of the bridge, resting her arms on the handrail. “What’s wrong, Dart? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
In a way, he really felt like he had seen a ghost. (To be fair, he'd seen ghosts before more than once.) Rose had... "Stay there." He managed before practically vaulting up the stairway to the second level where Dabas' shop was. Once he had, he approached Rose, staring into her eyes as if feeling that were he to take his eyes off of her, she'd vanish. Once he was a few feet away, he finally spoke again. "It really is you..." A surge of conflicting emotions welled within him. Joy that his friend was still alive, hope that his father had made it too, and grief, grief of a loss that had plagued all of them ever since she'd 'died'... His throat was tight as he continued to look at his friend, a friend that had acted as a mentor to all of them more than once. Sure, his hope that his father had made it too was probably nothing more than a fool's dream but... He couldn't help it. His hand rose slightly, as if to grasp her shoulder to really verify that she was solid, but it fell back down to his side almost immediately. "Rose..." Her words echoed in his mind, and while they confirmed that she was still alive, just seeing her... It was a confusing cocktail of emotions. But there was one other emotion that was welling up within him. Anger. She'd thrown her life away. She and her father had! "Why?" His voice wavered a little. "Why did you and father just-" The dam to his emotions broke down a little. Part of him wanted to rage, another to weep, one part wanted to slap her for throwing her life away, and another to just grab Rose and pull her into a hug if only to verify that she truly was alive. Of course he knew Rose, and that would have been a very stupid idea. The reminder forced him to calm down a bit, and what he had thought to be her last words echoed in his mind. 'My role is ended. Blaze the way to the future by yourselves. We were never meant to exist in this world. My age ended... In remote antiquity. Farewell Dart, and thank you." His voice dipped but he didn't stop staring at her. "...Damn it Rose, you've had a place with us this entire time. This is your world and time. If anyone deserves life, it's you." And to think he'd once hunted her with an obsessive lust for revenge.
this is qwilfish, a generation 2 pokemon
im just posting this to say, i have never, in my entire life, seen anyone acknowledge its existence.
not only have i never seen fanart of qwilfish, ive absolutely never seen it mentioned in any kind of pokemon discussion, ever
good
I had a friend who honest to god IV bred and trained several Qwilfish. He didn’t tell anyone about them, you found out because he’d suddenly pull out the Qwilfish team against you when you didn’t expect it.
And every single one of them knew Explosion. All of his Qwilfish were IV bred and EV trained for speed and max damage, they all held choice scarf, and his entire gameplan was to trade KOs with exploding Qwilfish. Their names were ‘So’, ‘I’, ‘herd’, ‘u’, and ‘liek’. The man was an avid mudkip fanatic at the time that joke was relevant, so here you are expecting his last pokemon to be a Mudkip or a Swampert, but no. It’s a Snorlax. Who’s name was ‘QWILFISH’ And his plan from that point out was to stall for ages with Rest, Yawn and Giga Impact. Slowly whittle away at your hitpoints while putting you to sleep with him and retaining his massive HP pool with rest and leftovers. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, this was Gen 4, when the R4 was rampant and everyone knew someone with one, so pokemon with moves they shouldn’t know was pretty common. So once you were down to your last pokemon and on your last legs… His Snorlax also knew Explosion. 250 base damage + stab.
That man was a treasure.
I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying, but this sounds epic and I’m reblogging this for my Pokemon-savvy friends.
Actually, Qwilfish is really quite handy competitively, and you don’t even need to blow it up to be good.
I have a friend who made one that can withstand mega Rayquaza.
Yeah this thing. Yes, this thing that’s banned from Ubers by Smogon. (Basically the group that sets the tier system since they’re the longest lasting, and biggest plus the biggest research group.)
His set is a little weird, but it has to be to handle it.
In Black and White, Qwilfish gained intimidate as a hidden ability.
So what he’d do is he’d send his fish out, it’d intimidate Mega Raquaza, then it’d stockpile, allowing it to avoid the 2hko.
Then it’d painsplit.
Stockpile, painsplit, then once it was low enough in the defenses from spamming dragon ascent?
Waterfall.
But, that’s not all. That’s just one guy that I know that uses a gimmicky set.
Qwilfish gets better since it’s actually a really bulky wall with intimidate... Not to mention that it gets spikes. Better yet? Toxic Spikes.
And since it’s a poison type, it can absorb enemy toxic spikes plus deal with fairies decently enough. No, it can’t take endless moonblasts, but it’s more tanky than people realize.
Seriously, don’t hate on this angry ball of spikes!
Send me ‘ϟ‘ and I’ll break some news about our characters using THIS website.
Just Because Tropes can be fun...
Well, I figured I’d drop a character’s tropes. A friend of mine started this and it was fun to do and figured I might share one or two of them.
What You Are According to Your MBTI Type
INTJ: You are the coldest shard of ice, but also the hottest flash of lightning. You are the sofest velvet in a rose petal, and also the sharpest thorns underneath. You’re the terrifying depth to the ocean, and yet you are also the sun twinkling on the waves. You may be the sultriest summer day, but often you choose to be the quiet coldness of a winter morning. You are the calmest logic and also the roil of blood boiling under your skin. Of all these things, INTJ, you are a Paradox.
ENTJ: You are a screaming crowd, the rush of adrenaline pushing you further. The words I will not give up, a business contract with all signatures in place. You are droplets of blood-red ink, and the glint of sunlight off a reflective glass building. You are the gory beauty of a sunset before a storm, the soft certainty of a plant blooming each year. You are a mountain threatening to crumble, and a young tree that refuses to snap in the wind. You, ENTJ, are the confounding fluidity of Strength.
INTP: You are the rapid clicking of a rubix cube under clever fingers, the glint of dark steel, the soft sigh of rain on concrete. You are the flash of unexpected rage, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor as it is pushed hastily back. You are the flipping pages of a textbook, and the squint of eyebrows while reading scrawled writing. It is no wonder that you love asking questions so much, INTP, for you yourself are a Question.
ENTP: You are the flash of an old camera as a photograph is taken. You are the tinest licks of flame in a fireplace, and also the devastating blaze in a forest at the tops of the trees. You are a bright red canvas, washed over with every shade imaginable. You are the blackness of a pupil, going ever deeper in. You are the grafitti I see on street walls as I walk home at night, and the glimmer of icicles on a cold morning. You are the snapping of scissors being suddenly closed, and the sound of ripping fabric as it is pulled apart. You are the irregular motion of fingers tapping against the wooden table. You are both pleasantly warm and dangerously hot, ENTP, because you are Flame incarnate.
INFJ: I see the quiet strength in a mountain side in you, and yet I also see the dangerous temptation of a cliff face. You are the smooth rustling of a stream past rocks, but somewhere you become the roaring power of a waterfall. You are pure white sand and the burning heat on your feet from the sun; I see the softness of vanilla and also the sharpness of peppercorn in you. You are the warmth of the sun on one’s back, and the burning blaze of a desert’s surface. You are power in reserve and power in extremes, you are a dam holding back an entire lake and also the cracks threatening the stone deep beneath the surface. You are mocked as the ‘unicorn’, INFJ, but you prove yourself as something much deeper as the Moment Before a Wave Breaks.
INFP: You are the silken tinkling of water in a cave, and you are the echo of a terrified voice lost somewhere far beyond. You are gentle like a sheet of new paper, yes, but you are the stinging pain of a thousand inflicted papercuts. You are the burst of a flower blooming fast-motion on a camera, and you are the wilted petals underneath. I see the blur of water colours on the white of a desk, and also a room with no visible end or beginning. You are the sudden smile that appears for no reason, and the ugliest frown appearing like a storm. You are early mornings and quiet whispers, but most of all, you are Changes.
ENFJ: You are a mirage; the image of a shallow pool with a thousand feet of water underneath. You are dirt lining the cracks in one’s hands, and the threatening pull of mud under one’s feet. You are the purest feeling of happiness, and you are a maze with level after level. You are a bright blue shirt flipping on a clothesline in the breeze, and you are the flick of a light illuminating a dark room. You go many places and love to see new things, and that is well, for you are an Adventure.
ENFP: You of all others are a perennial favourite. You are the favourite younger sibling in a family, you are the warmth of protection glowing in one’s chest. You are waking up late on a slow day, and you are the beat of a song that plays during work. You are a child skipping rope on the sidewalk, and the wonder of a scientist testing an Element. You are pens scattered on a table in every shade of the rainbow, and the hopeless scrubbing of an eraser over paper. You are notebooks sitting in a shelf unused and half-finished art projects left for a soon-due essay. You, ENFP, are the Glow of Praise.
ISTJ: You are the crisp of white sheets being put on a bed. You are pancakes on a china plate, and black shoes polished to a shine. You are hair in graceful waves, and the graciousness of a smile. You are the furrowing brow of brewing anger, and the sudden splash of cool water on overheated skin. You are the beep of a heart monitor, and the prick of a needle on your finger. I see the quiet, far reaches of the ocean’s surface in you, and the grey shadow of sharks swimming somewhere below. You are not so easily stereotyped as boring, ISTJ; for you are Deep Water, slow to move and full of changes underneath unseen by those on the shore.
ISFJ: You are the glint of a sword being drawn free, and the warm smell of leather. You are the glossiness of a horse’s back, but also the sudden kick of fear. You are tiny smiles and curling fingers; a garden full of colourful flowers. You are the unexpected sting of poison ivy under one’s feet, and the soothing balm of chapstick over cracked, bleeding lips. You are a train rushing forwards, carrying thousands of pounds of cargo. You are the steady thrum of a heartbeat, a yellow ribbon wrapped around a present. You are still water in a vase, and the sudden frustration of broken glass and spilled liquid on the floor. Well are you called a defendor, ISFJ, because you are a Strong Wall, full of the tiny cracks that come with humanity and yet standing strong for all those who need you.
ESTJ: You are the click of an old typewriter’s keys, the soothing hum of a printer completing its task. You are a smile showing teeth, and the biting nip of the cold outside. You are the comfortable feeling of coming home, and a suitcase lying, half-packed, on the floor. You are the beautiful sound of a violin playing, and you are the sobs it so often draws out. You are an army of baked goods resting on a kitchen counter, and the smile on a child’s face. You are the secret desire for untested things, and you are a kind email directed at someone who needs it most. You are always accomplishing things, ESTJ, for you are an accomplishment yourself. Finally, you are spinning in a desk chair unobserved, for you are the Sense of Satisfaction.
ESFJ: You are the flick of long hair over shoulders. You are gift bags resting on the floor at a party, and the sparkling bubbles of champagne. You are the terrifying shriek of a hurricane and hands wrapped around a warm mug. You are striped colours on a wall and the ticking beat of a watch on one’s wrist. A lively tune on the piano, the blur of 3D movies without glasses. You are the feeling of wandering across a busy city at night, and shaking hands gripping each other. You are as delightful to some as you are strange to others, ESFJ: you are an Unexpected Surprise.
ISTP: You are bubbles rising in a beaker, a baseball slamming into a glove. You are the curl of lazy smoke, and the sheen of sunglasses in the daytime. You are the age-old familiarity of denim, and the crisp cleanness of a white t-shirt. You are a smooth voice making love to the microphone in your hand, and the faint rasp of a speaking voice afterwards. You are a comb moving through hair over and over again, and the yawn unrestricted by a covering hand in a classroom. You are narrowed eyes moments before a game, and the passionate sting of a sudden kiss to the mouth. You and your eagerness, ISTP, are the easy impatience of a Rumbling Engine, desperate to move.
ISFP: You are paint rubbed smudged on a nose, and freckles washed over cheeks. A whisper louder than any scream could be, steam rising from a cup of hot chocolate. You are the bright green of grass in the summertime, and the wilting curl as it shies away in the Autumn. You are a picture of two lovers hugging, their faces absolutely at peace. You are the tossing of a ship in a storm, and the glint of a seashell on damp sand. You are the trusting curl of a child’s hand in your own, and the flash of pain when one bites their tongue. You are Rafflesia arnoldii and Wolffia growing together in a field, some strange combination that manages to be beautiful. You, ISFP, are the Beat of a Dragonfly’s Wings, beautiful and fragile and quick to escape.
ESTP: You are a thousand screaming voices in a stadium, and also the shaking earth underneath. You are a building standing proud and tall, full of life and energy and bustling movement. You are a fist holding the ribbon attached to a medal, and the rumbling growl of a motorcycle’s engine. You are the sting of cold air in the lungs on an early morning, and sparks crackling off a bonfire. You are a tree in the woods, being hacked to the ground, and you are a weed growing rampant in an abandoned garden. You are a force to be reckoned with, ESTP, and a formidable one at that, for you are Determination.
ESFP: You are the twirl of a new dress in the mirror, and the shredding of fabric under a foot. You are a newly polished mirror and shards of a broken glass on the floor. You are the pettiness of envy and also the beauty of magnitude, the gloss over pictures in a magazine and the sound of feet moving on a dance floor. You are the excited shout of a new discovery, and the shattering loss of a loved one. I see the allure of a late night, and the glow of string lights in you, and the rapid beat of a lunar moth’s wings. It is easy to see why you have such quickness in everything, ESFP, for you are Movement.
Betwixt Journeys
Keep reading
“Either way, that’s good.” Shana smiled. At least he managed to get some items to help out, regardless of the size. As for them not spending much time together, Shana didn’t mind. Of course a lot of people missed him, herself included, but he was helping out the village after all. This was much different than his journey previously.
“It’s okay, really. We all know you’re going to come back here, we just hope you’ll be okay along the way. We may have faced a lot of trials already but there’s still danger out there.” A chuckle escaped her mouth.
“I’ve been fine, helping as much as I can around here. Everything is pretty much the same. Speaking of which, did you need help with anything?”
Small Blog Update
Switched around some SCM stuff. Most Notably found a better song to put in for Sonia.
Is it just me or....
Did the RP community on tumblr completely shrivel up and die thanks to the newest update?
I tend to use google drive these days anyway, so it’s not a lot of skin off my nose but it’s a strange feeling regardless. I haven’t been a huge fan of tumblr for over a year now, but I do know there are/were some excellent RPers here that used the platform because it worked for them well. Now? Well...
Anyway, am I delusional (once again) or is it a mostly dead RP platform now?
Betwixt Journeys
Keep reading
It’s been so long since her hometown has been busting with energy. Here and there were people that chose to travel here for construction purposes or just to simply visit. With each passing day, Shana stayed in town to aid with such things like giving out food supplies or just small tasks within homes. Rather simple tasks, nothing as strenuous like her childhood friend.
With him traveling outside of town, it gave Shana plenty of time to ponder to herself—life was peaceful now. Without so many questions about her identity lingering in her mind, Shana felt satisfied with her way of living and was grateful that she still had Dart to speak with. Due to everyone going back to their regular lives, it wasn’t often that they could speak or spend time together. She missed those day.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping on the door, smiling as the person’s voice passed through. Shana didn’t hesitate in opening the door. “No, I’m not busy. You’re back already?”
Betwixt Journeys
Ever since the fall of Melbu Frahma, Dart had been busy. First, he’d had promises to keep, notably to his old friend Lavitz, and while he couldn’t share an actual drink with the man, he’d left a tumbler of of liquor for his fallen brother at his desk and he’d had a slow drink, remembering him.
Dart wasn’t one to typically take up liquor, and the harsh flavor of the spirits he’d selected had been a bitter one to swallow.
Of course, that was only the first step, he’d soon returned to Seles where over the next several months acted as transport for the tiny village. It was long and he often spent weeks in solitude as he made his way to Bale, Lohan, or any number of cities and towns throughout the kingdom. Each trip back he carried a large burden of supplies and bandits had quickly learned not to mess with the crimson armored fighter. His loads might have had good value, but he extracted a price far beyond what any of them were willing to pay for even the smallest parcel of cargo.
Of course, it meant only short breaks that he could spend with his childhood friend, and only companion he was able to see on a semi regular basis. Haschel had returned to Rogue, taking Kongol with him. Meru was journeying around the world with her fiance, Miranda was back in Mille Seseau helping her sisters and her adoptive mother alike, and of course… Rose… She wasn’t with them anymore.
Even now he could feel his frustrations with her and his father’s decision. They had had Melbu on the ropes, and now… She was gone, never to see the world she’d saved, the world she’d shed countless tears over, and shed far more blood than he could ever know.
And she had sacrificed herself, instead of them banding together for one last push… In a sense he did understand. 11,000 years of grief was not easily swayed but…
Shaking the thought aside, he lightly rapped on Shana’s door.
“Shana, are you busy?”
He was back, at least for a few more hours and he’d might as well spend a little bit of time with his friend for a change.
Rules: 1) Always post these rules. 2) Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you and give 11 questions for the blogs you tag and, 3) Tag 11 people!
Tagged by isaaccecilbryant
1. Favourite voice actor?
Good question. Actually, Megan Hollingshead. She voiced characters like Lenneth from Valkyrie Profile, Sheena in ToS Dawn of the New World, and a billion other things. She also has a very rich tone when she wants to.
2. Favourite video game?
Oh dear. This question. I love too many Video Games. Valkyrie Profile, Final Fantasy, Mega Man, Ace Combat, Legend of Dragoon... Basically If you name a game I’ve either played it or know of it...
3. Why do cats always land on their feet?
.-. That’s out of the blue. I’d rather not talk about cat biology though. Allergies and all that.
4. IT’S THE CLOUD GIF!!!
Floaty float?
5. Your main in Smash?
Lucina/Marth, Mega Man... I really love a lot of the characters in smash.
6. Coffee or Tea?
Neither really. I actually hate the smell of coffee, and tea is ‘meh’ to me for the most part.
7. What is Time?
A way to measure the short flicker of existence that we know of. A way to give the human mind context around events, and give us a better sense of scale. It never waits and ‘delivers us all to the same end’.
8. What are five positive traits you possess
1: I’m fairly stubborn
2: I have a fire for honor, integrity, and Justice.
3: Physically speaking I was built similar to how people picture Goliath. It’s actually pretty useful (and problematic) at times.
4: I enjoy mental challenges
5: Related to the above, I have quick mind (that was injured but is healing finally...)
9. You have 4 minutes to save the world, what do you do?
I make an epic pose and then go save the day from whatever is threatening it!
10. Who would you want to be stuck in jail with?
Hmm, good question. A best buddy either a certain net friend or an IRL buddy.
11. Yaoi or Yuri?
Actually, I’m not particularly enthused on either. But Yaoi does admittedly make me mentally cringe a little more probably because I am a guy and ow/ew context comes into mind really quick.
11 questions from the one who tagged me:
Favourite movie? Tough call, but for now I’ll go with The Star Wars original trilogy
Favourite genre of book? Fantasy/Sci-Fi
Did you know that chickens can fly? It’s mostly short ranged flight. Definitely one of those things that made me think twice though xD ‘of course chickens can’t... wait I remember something about flight but...’
What about the fact that penguins actually have knees? I actually never thought about it tbh o-o
Your favorite character ever? That’s a mean one D: I like too many charas for too many reasons xx
A muse you took on that you regret? Walthari. Hands down. He’s a psychopath that is completely twisted.
A sport/activity you wish you could do? Wouldn’t mind casting Starcraft games or compete in em.
*BAM* You’ve won the lottery, what do you do first? Get a new PC, mine is 5+ years old now and showing it.
Four people you can’t live without? Primarily net friends. Odds are they know who they are if they see this post xD
What place in the world do you want to visit the most? Rome
A place tied to a precious memory. Places really haven’t gotten tied to precious memories for me. It’s more the events that are. (I know that sounds weird...) But, then again, a lot of places I’ve seen were pretty toxic overall and would otherwise spoil those memories. *Shrugs*
Shadows Never Fade
Over the past few years, Seles had slowly been rebuilt, brick by brick, and stone by stone. It was not an easy task, and the losses of far too many villagers further hampered the recovery.
Worse yet, had even a single villager more fallen... Well, Seles would have probably had to have been abandoned. But, if there was also another truth that could not be changed it was that Dart was stubborn. Even when it seemed impossible, Dart’s resolution bound the few remaining survivors together, and thankfully, progress continued.
However, despite this, Seles was not an island and few of the villagers were able enough to brave the wilderness and face the various monsters.
It was because of this, that Dart often found himself having to leave the village behind, to gain another precious shipment of supplies. In turn, he was forced to learn how to negotiate. (A task he had not enjoyed.)
Dart managed a small smile though as he entered Lohan for what felt to be the hundredth time that year.
“Hey Dart!” A guardsman waved and the swordsman returned the gesture.
“Davis, it’s good to see you.” He returned.
Davis was a good man, cheery, and a bit obnoxious at times, but he had a heart of gold.
“Back for another shipment? I hear the traders from Kazas are bringing some supplies. Might want to check ‘em out before they’re snapped up by Basil or even Lohan.” Dart nodded, managing another small smile.
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
Davis raised his visor, revealing the teen.
“You could buy me a pint.” He suggested hopefully.
“21, and then we’ll talk.” Dart promised.
Shaking his head at Davis’ grumbling, he allowed himself an internal laugh as he headed for the market. It would have been an easy matter for Davis to get a pint from one of the other guardsmen or even his father, but Davis respected the law too much to actually break it.
Lohan had certainly changed.
“Fresh Bread!”
“Precious Gems!”
Passing by several stalls, Dart paused as he sensed something... Truly strange.
No, it wasn’t possible. Stiffening, he spun, his head snapping upward to the raised boardwalks of Lohan. It just couldn’t be! He saw her die!
“ROSE!” Dart’s voice echoed across the stalls, and for a few moments the entire area fell silent, stunned by the shout.
It just wasn’t possible, but even the Divine Dragon’s spirit shimmered, as if greeting their old friend.
Uh... Well then
Minato and the Tiny Detective Episode 1
Minato followed, and Conan had to resist the urge to make any expression of satisfaction. As they trudged to the park, which was near the cafe (and the reason it was chosen as an investigation area in the first place), they soon headed to the sheltered area with a table. The one where the victim was said to frequent. It wasn’t that hard to find, now that they knew about it. Forensics was already all over, stepping around carefully to not blemish the crime-scene, combing it for clues.
While the small boy eyed the grass and pathway somewhat, he made for the table and inspected it himself. It seemed Minato was also keen on searching.
He had definitely made the right call with this guy.
“Tome-san.” Conan spoke up to the leader of the team. “What did you find?” He kept an eye out as well, but decided he might as well check with the boss of these guys first.
On the table, Minato would probably find traces of feet on the chairs nearby, hastily swept off, although the footprint was barely visible. The grass was also disturbed in the area, but nothing seemed knocked over. If it had been, it had probably already been straightened out. The possible scene of the crime could have been manipulated.There were some heavier footsteps leading away and to where the body was found, as well, but those had been trampled on pupose beyond recognition, and only existed in the muddier area. The rest of the ground had been solid enough to not leave much of an imprint at all. He may even find a wedding band which was well hidden on accident, as a chair had been set atop of it.
“Oh, Kudo-san!” The man greeted, then blinked when he noticed they were not in police company only. He realized his mistake, then let out a laugh. “Sorry, Conan-kun, you just sound a lot like-”
“I know.” He said as he waved it off. “And?”
“Looks like the chairs were knocked over at some point based on some imprints. There’s a dusted footprint on one of them, too, so we’re comparing it to the victim’s shoes.” The forensics man said, nodding to the boys. “There’s also traces of rope around here, and some indents on the ground from someone standing on the ground for a while. Waiting, I guess. They don’t match the one on the seat, so I’m guessing…”
“If one of them matches the victim’s, the other’s could be the culprit’s…” Conan paused as he finished the thought. “… right?” His head tilted down as his glasses reflected a shine.
Decisive evidence, maybe. It depended on which matched whom. Still, it could be that this place was the actual crime scene, there might even be more hidden clues.
“Did you find anything, Minato-niichan?” He asked as he looked at the other teen.
Minato frowned thoughtfully as he approached the tables. Thankfully, his eyes were well attuned to detecting minor changes, mostly from his nightly raids of Tartarus.
Letting his hands rest in his pockets, Minato considered the table, the small small ghostly indentations of where the chairs had been, and he closed his eyes for a moment, burning their locations (and where the seats would have been) into his mind.
Then, his eyes caught a strange disturbance. The grass... He was no expert, that much he was certain of, but grass usually stood upright so that it could get the most sunlight it could.
Carefully stepping around the area, he saw the mud, and while he wasn’t able to quite put two and two together he glanced back at Conan.
So far, he had nothing concrete, but between the prior chair locations and the footprints (muddled) as they were and the disturbed grass... Just what happened here?
“A few things.” He admitted.
Approaching the ‘boy’ (whomever Conan was, he certainly didn’t act like a child, despite the attempts...)
“If I’ve read this correctly,the chair locations were...” He closed his eyes, glad for his razor sharp memory.
Pointing to several locations he nodded once finished.
“Why they’ve been moved, that’s still up for debate, but at least we have a starting point for rebuilding the scene.”
However, he frowned thoughtfully at the new information as he formulated the words.
“You said the chairs were knocked over... And the rope...” It wasn’t a high distance, but... Someone could have tied the rope around the victim’s neck, and from there, manually pulled the rope tight. It would definitely explain the struggle marks on the deceased throat, and at the same time... Was low enough to the ground that it would be easier to miss.
“I’d like to offer a possible theory.” He finally stated, reviewing what he’d seen, and added with the information that the other two he spoke.
“The potential killer was standing in a singular spot for a while. Either they were waiting for something, they couldn’t move, or were so horrified they stood frozen on the spot. If it was this secondary option, and assuming, once again, that he or she, was the killer... By using the rope to hold the victim against a chair, or as leverage, he’d be able to keep his or her hands unsullied, and more notably, close to the ground while keeping some distance away from the struggling victim so they couldn’t strike their killer as easily.” He tilted his head forward acknowledging one of the weaknesses of this theory.
“Of course, if this wasn’t premeditated, I highly doubt they’d think to use the chair, and it’d have been just knocked over in the struggle. Either way, the chair would have been forced to move.” Glancing at the top of the table, Minato focused on where the chairs had been.
Were there any scuffs indicating a person throwing themselves over it? It too would knock the chair aside.
However after a moment he sighed.
“Of course, I’m just a hobbyist at best so it’s just as likely that I’ve missed something. Especially as I don’t want to disrupt the crime scene.”