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@overweightimposter
[ Hiatus Update ]
Hello!
[ Mmm - alright! I think I'll be taking a hiatus or something from this blog. I'm suddenly getting a lot of drawing inspiration, and I really wanna get back to work on my art skills. Overall, I just feel too distracted to keep my replies top-notch. If I get in the writing mood again, then I might come back and work on my replies! ]
Send Me A ☁ And I'll Write A Scene From My Character's Past
Make sure you say what you want. Happy, Sad, Angry, etc…
Title: Look But Don’t Touch
Pairing: Kyouko x Her Gloves
Words: 184
Author’s Notes: (at the end)
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ロンパシリーズまとめ | 笹川
「 My Life as Middle-Aged Robot 」
Oh, how small and insignificant life is. Have you ever once cared for the dead rabbits or squirrels that get ran over every day? Shed a tear for the one's who die protecting people you don't really care about? Death is so swift to the ones are claimed by it. Almost like getting a shot at the doctors office. A quick prick on your forearm, then it's over before you know it. Confusion fills your head as you wonder why you were even worried about the sharp needle's end. There was nothing to worry about, and you just felt emptier then before - possibly because you just had some blood removed from your arm. But do you know of the split second when you are getting a shot and time stops? A figure appears in that time freeze. The Grim Reaper. He is always watching the living, wishing he could join in the merry play we put on each day. But he isn't as upset as you would think, for he knows life sucks major butt. He just keep up his job because it pays nicely, providing for his family at home. He knows when you will die, he knows when your annoying little brother will die, he even knows when that idiot at school will die. He has it all written down in a large notebook he likes to call Death Note - he's had a weeaboo phase since the beginning of anime.
And it seemed today
he would claim another victim.
The fatal flaw in his movements: the coffee mug full of pipping hot water falls towards the white tiled floor. A shadow-like figure out the corner of his eyes - the Grim Reaper? - a sudden play-back of all of his memories - yep, he was going to die. He wished he had gotten to talk to his daughter more, or spend more time with his students (except the white haired one), or do anything else to make his life worth more. As the burning coffee soaked his pant legs, the coffee mug shattered upon the floor, sending small blue shards flying, he never liked that coffee mug anyway. Once or twice he thought he saw the afterlife, but it was just stupid light being reflected into his eyes from the shards. He was reminded of how much he hated when that happened. He would just be on his phone, texting someone or something, and suddenly the sun would decide 'hey, I'm going to ruin this guys life' and practically blind him for seven minutes, unable to continue what he was doing. He tried blowing up the sun many times, using the power he had acquired, but the Prime Minister was all 'You can't blow up the sun, that's our only source of heat!'. What a jerk, didn't he understand he was doing this for the good of all of humanity? If he was reborn he'd have to remind himself somehow to try to blow up the sun aga—.
His thought were cut off as the searing pain in his legs took over his brain and causing him to pass out. The Grim Reaper, already mad that he was missing the new episode of the popular anime Kill la Kill, took Jin Kirigiri's life before he could wake up again. If he lived through this he would probably just issue a ban on all coffee mugs and coffee, but still end up getting killed the same way. What was this, the sixth time this month he had dropped his coffee on his feet? He'd had his chance to fix the ending to the story, but it was too late, and the Grim Reaper was growing tired of missing anime episodes. Pulling his life force out, he reaped what the Headmaster had sown, and brought the spirit to the Limbo waiting room. Once sure Jin was done freaking out, the Grim Reaper waved goodbye to the angel at the front desk, and descended to his quant home, his wife and two kids waiting for him.
-Ω-
The steady pace she kept, only broken every now and then when stuck behind some slow student, was like a horse. Galloping through endless fields of cleanly cut grass, the smell of flowers and nature surrounding them. Of course, she had never actually been horseback riding, but she can imagine what it would be like. She recalled a movie they once saw where a couple was riding on horses when the husband rudely threw some grass at the wife's face and laughed as she screamed in anger. She recalled how that actually never happened, and she had never seen a movie where a couple was riding horseback - she really was losing it, wasn't she? A quick mental note to check back in with the School's Psychiatrist, and she was back to her horse like gallop.
Terrible news had followed the great news of the Headmaster's death, and had totally ruined her radical day. She was now heading to the cafeteria where she were to announce this butthurting news. How could the Headmaster be so stupid? After all those close calls, why didn't he just leave coffee alone? Or not sign the contract at all? It would ruin his poor daughter's life forever, and he knew it. Did he really dislike how purple her hair was that he would just go and ruin her life, even after he was dead? Talk about daddy problems. Everyone in school knew Kirigiri and her dad weren't exactly close, but still, doing this was pretty stupid. She let out a sad sigh, and, turning her head, caught sight of one of the students. She turned her gallop towards them. If she had to tell everyone in Hope's Peak, might as well get some practice with this person first.
She pulled the student aside and looked away from them, hoping no one could hear them. Or hoping someone was. If this was spread in Hope's Peak as fast as other gossip gets around, she wouldn't have to worry about announcing it. Trying to look cool, she pulled out a cigar and pretended to smoke without actually lighting it.
"I have some weally tewwible news to tell you. Jin Kirigiri... is dead, but..." Taking a deep breath, she looked them in the eyes, feeling fear grip her. "The school had a contract where if he died, they would be awowed to... bwing him back as a wobot."
Happy National Yaoi Day
tumblr pro
[I think my tag's broken - all that's showing up is Jane being stupid with me.]
me: I s2g I'll pick another winner don't test me bruh
jewel: ok here are SOME things i Just thought of,
jewel: Meekins x Gumshoe (Detective Love)
jewel: Apollo x Naegi/Hinata (Brown-Sticking-Up-Hair)
jewel: Kirigiri x Her Gloves (Look, but Don’t Touch)
jewel: Batman x Batman (‘I’m batman’ ‘no way me too’)
jewel: The Dog from Family Guy x Bart Simpson (Adult Cartoons have Perfect Couples too)
jewel: Me x water spilling on my desk (FIR CK NOT AGiaN)
jewel: do tell, governor, which one sounds best?
Even though that he said that it was alright, there was still that small seed of doubt in him that he couldn’t shake away. He felt like he had said something wrong, but then again it was Togami. He was stubborn and he was kind. Hinata liked having him around and felt lucky to be his friend. So he really didn’t have anything to complain about.
He had already been sworn not to mention the testing, so even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tell him in the first place. It was kind of stupid, but then again there wasn’t much he could say that wouldn’t make him sound crazy. "Yeah and the school is doing these crazy testing and surgeries on me to make me into some perfect person ahah isn’t that great?!"
No way in hell.
He was snapped from his thoughts when there was a mention of the underclassman. Hinata perked up a little. “Eh? Naegi? Yeah. I’ve met him a few times. He seems like a good kid.” He responded, although he couldn’t help but to flush slightly when he heard that apparently the younger brunette reminded Togami of him. “You think so? He seems a lot more cheerful and talkative.”
Was he really this awful at casual talking? He had never really done much of it before coming to Hope's Peak - he was much more out of practice then he had thought. Seeing as he always took things a bit too seriously, maybe he needed a calmer outlook? He didn't want to suddenly change how he acted too much, maybe just subtile things would do.
"He is rather optimistic; his happy-go-lucky personality is definitely different from your - er, down-to-earth personality." Hinata had a way with hearing people out, then delivering brutal, but honest, help. With Naegi it was more 'Don't worry! I'm sure you can make it!', which was kind, but didn't provide much help. Either way, if they teamed up, it sure would be a sight to see.
Shifting his weight slightly, he looked over Hinata's shoulder. Not many people were around them; all were busy talking to each other, or waiting for their friends to show up. "I do wonder how Naegi got into Hope's Peak in the first place. Komaeda's luck is much more... effective then his." He paused for a moment, moving his focus back on Hinata's pink-ish face. "Perhaps it was fate that he ended up here?"
「 Astray | Softstrength 」
Skidding to a halt, their own heartbeat pounding in their ears, they quickly glanced around - no where good enough to hide. The loud siren wails were getting more and more distant with each step, along with the chances of getting caught. If they just found somewhere to duck away for a few hours, they might be in the clear. Pulling the black duffer bag higher on their shoulder, they took off once again.
What was this? The fourth - no, fifth time they'd been caught? They'd taken every cautious measure, how does she keep figuring it out? They had underestimated her too many times, but next time she wouldn't be so lucky. Something to shock her, something to confuse her, something to upset her. It was only a matter of time before they'd find her again, and when they did, she better be ready.
They were shaken from their thoughts by an empty house waiting for them across the even emptier road. No lights were on, strange for this time of day. It looked too small to have more then one or two occupants. Perhaps the owners were on vacation? Hopefully they could just spend an hour or so here and then be on their way.
In no time they were on the doorsteps, searching for a key into the house. They checked a small potted plant near the doorway - bingo. What was the point to hiding a key there if everyone else used the same place as well? Fitting the correct key in they turned the doorknob nervously, a small creak emitted from the old door as they did. Slipping in and shutting the door, they pulled a flashlight from their bag and watched it flicker on. As they looked around, they noticed a clicking noise was coming from one of the farther rooms. Slowly walking for the room, they peaked in, another creak came from the noisy doors.
A young girl was on a computer, typing away, apparently unaware of their presence.
[I wonder if I should do that journal thing every now and then? It might help me get more in character when I get too distracted.]
ʜᴏᴡ /ɴᴏᴛ/ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ: ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ ᴘʀᴏsᴇ
Recently, there have been a lot of people asking me how I write, how I do the thing with the words, asking me to give them advice and I thought rather than making a huge list of things you can do to get better at writing, I would combine their requests with a little something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. So, here’s how not to write, or things to avoid if you want to produce good writing. ———— I’ve had this bone to pick with the tumblr rp community for a long while, and since sleep seems to be avoiding me at all costs, I thought I’d put some of the dead time to use, be the devil’s advocate, and pick this damn bone: over-done, blatant-thesaurus-abusing, purple prose. If you’re looking for nice, DO NOT PASS GO; DO NOT COLLECT $200 because in all honesty, I’m 1-800-DONE with a lot of the writing I see being praised on tumblr rp.
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{ brokenᴠᴀɢᴀʙᴏɴᴅ | overweightimposter }
{ Silent drumming pounded the corridors with a trembling cacophony of fragility. The rage of an accumulating tension, boiling the very skin attached to her muscles, to her bones, and the blood that circulated throughout it, rose to heights even Mukuro was not sure she could come down from. An odd vacancy filled the room—as though something was supposed to be there that wasn’t—or perhaps someone. A punching bag, more like, that could endure the ragged punches she would throw. Her sister would have scolded her for forgetting to put on her gloves first, and that she punched like a weakling. A weakling. Mukuro Ikusaba was no fool. She was also not a sinner; so then, why did she feel this much guilt twisting her stomach? A lining of acid pulsed, and bile rose in her throat. So much that she wanted to scream out and pour all her anger onto someone else, but there was no one willing to listen. The only person whose name came to mind was in resting upon the nurses discovering a bruise across her legs, and they did not believe her lie about “running into the nightstand.”’ Or something of the sort. She was never given many details; some amazing agent of the Future Foundation she was.
It’s not as though she wanted to be considered a true agent. But it would sure beat being the sandbag of the entire company and all of its employees. The bitterness she held, the contempt she felt for some of the people here was far stronger than any hope and deeper than any despair she had known or been taught. Only a release would suffice, and the kendoka’s presence was absent from the training gym when she had come to practice. Her arms absentmindedly reached for the very staff she held upon first meeting—the chestnut wooden one that she held at her throat without mercy nor the intent of actually harming her more-so than simply preserving her authority over her. But she learned more about the swordswoman the more she fought her, and soon, it became almost a part of her daily schedule to meet the silver-haired, red-eyed reflection at the gymnasium. Only, she had not been there the past few days Mukuro had gone, and she nearly beat herself over the head for forgetting.
She threw the staff against the floor with a snap, it’s splinters flying across the floor, and a thud echoed in the hallway. To be perfectly honest, she held apathy for whomever had heard the sudden noise, and quickly made her way to a public employee lounge, though empty at the time. Devoid of any human strangers, the soldier wiped the sweat that trickled down her brow on the back of her hand, and approached the first cabinet to her right. Glass in hand, she was filling it to the rim with water, and only watched as the liquid flooded over the rim and drenched her hand, spilling into the basin of the sink as she held the glass tighter and tighter with each disgusting memory. And soon enough, her arm was planted over the edge of the counter, the corner digging into the soft pale of her freckled skin, water surmounting over her digits and disappearing into the void below. It was dark, and she could not see much other than the soft glint of light from the sun behind blind peeking through and reflecting in the current.
Smash!
A sudden snap sent the glass furling out of the water, now stained with crimson red; a stark contrast to the spitting white. Glass shards clung to her hand, penetrated in the skin, and blood flowed from her fingertips and the palm of her hand, carried by the water and down through the basin of the sink. She gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut, as though opening them would force her to see the pain and suffering she’s not only caused herself, but thousands of other people as well. Guilt tore at her insides like a wolf that she had created and could not control anymore. It was developing a mind of its own, and it hungered for blood. Her blood. She would let it eat anything it wanted, so long as it left her alone in the end—and the people she dared to call her friends. Was Pekoyama even that? Was her sister? Who were her friends in these times of despair? It was a joke to even consider herself worthy of anyone else’s time. Who was she kidding? She was a waste of oxygen. Water continued to run between her fingers, slipping between the cracks despite her efforts to hold onto the soothing remedy.
And she never even heard the first footsteps entering the room.
Calming browns mixing with midnight black, a soft buzzing coming from an unseen bug. Rows upon rows of stories written in any language you could think of, all at the tip of your hand. The dim lighting made it hard to see just what you had chosen until you were sitting down underneath a small lamp - a gamble on what you would be spending your time with. A gamble for those who didn't have the large library memorized from smallest book to longest story, from fattest fable to strangest documentary. Sliding their fingers over the spines of a few unread books a portion of dust clung to their fingertips, the rest floating away from their unmoving prison, filling the air around them. Waving away the annoying particles, they pulled out one of the thinner books. Squinting at the tittle was useless - they'd need night vision goggles just to make out what the golden letters on the front said. Honestly, it was surprising they didn't suffer from blindness; they strained their eyes daily, which should have stopped seeing things ages ago. Somehow they still held out, thankfully, and could get away with heavily lensed glasses or painful contacts.
Navigating the empty isles back to their lone chair, the sound of their footsteps more distant then usual, they felt the eerie silence bear down on them. It wasn't abnormal to have no company to read with, they kind of liked it, but the sense of loneliness was almost too much. There even used to be an old clock that would tick away as they avoided the others with make-believe, but it stopped working long ago, permanently showing the time as 1 1 : 3 0 . They had wondered rather or not to repair it, but the clock's ticks would just bring back old memories that they had no need for - and the continued noise could get downright annoying. Turning past another burnt auburn shelf their dark spearmint chair came into view, the table side lamp yet to be turned on. They moved towards their small escape from reality, the feeling of excitement over their new story slowly building. Setting down the book beside the lamp, they moved their hand to the ON button. A small flicker then -
What on earth was that?
A distant shattering sound caused their head to swing upwards. Was that the sound of glass breaking? Did someone hurt themself? The muffled crash had to have come from one of the neighboring rooms. Their legs took over as they sprinted for the library's only exit, completely forgetting what they had been doing. Opening the door, they quickly surveyed the hallway - not a soul to be seen. However, they noticed a lone room that could have been the source of the sound, and, without thinking, barged in at full speed.
The scene before them spoke one word and one word only, pain. The discolored figure of Mukuro Ikusaba, a mixture of fear and anger sketched onto her face, looked more lost then ever. The shattered remains of glass, now reflecting the burning sun rays across the girls body, were surrounding her. The few stray reflections that fell upon her black haircut causing her head to resemble a night sky - twinkling stars splattered over darkness, the night light to those sleeping outside. The colors seeping from her torn skin completed the look of pain. The overwhelming tension in the air caused them to stop completely. They had clearly walked - ran - in on something they were not to see. But the worse part - she didn't even yell at them to leave. She was so caught up in her fears that she didn't even bother to pay attention to the things around her. It was too... familiar.
"It's not your fault."
*hands you my url and a cookie* Here you are, cute fuji and cute mun! ✌(꒡͡ ો ̼̮ ꒡͡✌)
Opinion on;
Character in general: I didn’t think I would like Twogami? At first? This is because I actively disliked Togami in the first game (at first); like even though the original Togami grew and was very necessary for the story and all that jazz I just kept going wow you’re such a dick you are my second least favorite in this cast— But ultimately I liked him. I was expecting Twogami to be more like the initial impression I had of Togami, somehow? That and he visually reminded me of the nazi leader from Hellsing so part of me was expecting him to unleash the I LOVE WAR speech or something. In the end, I absolutely adored Twogami. Regardless of how much was the Imposter and how much was his perception of Togami, he truly did seem like a genuinely sweet, good person - or at least an admirable one. I was really sad upon what happened to him and he’s one of my favorites of the DR2 cast.
How they play them: This person clearly puts a lot of thought into writing the Imposter! Their effort is really admirable and while I hope they don’t turn it into a chore for them, I think such intentions to portray a well-done one is great. I may have goober’d that sentence but hopefully it makes sense.
The Mun: I haven’t talked to them a whole lot yet, but they are incredibly sweet and really focused on portraying characters well. Their openness to interact with characters and just…what we’ve talked about via asks? They just left a really good impression.
Do I:
RP with them: I’m about to! I’ve posted my starter for them and we have one other thread planned and I am very excited for both of them! They’re super nice, too, guys; I screwed up reading a meme properly and they still were willing to work out an rp together!
Want to RP with them: Hell yeah.
What is my;
Overall Opinion: I’m sure there’s other grand Imposter rpers out there and we should follow them all, but I know this one for certain is a great addition to anyone’s dashboard. I hope they have a really fun time playing the character and that they’re around for awhile!